Life is a quick sneeze, (Hii Ku!) bless you

Ruminate on life.

value in health, kids,

and loving wife.

Work to support

family, only one goal

warm childhood soul

Love, silky red mist

clothe my weary heart.

 Life anew with kiss.

Time becomes soft

moments are fragile, gray,

memories are lost.

High above Earth,

life looks so very simple,

death is birth

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert



I wounded my Pony, helping my girls

Rocks rattled and clacked under a big black plastic square attached to a mobile basketball hoop that I was dragging.  February in Colorado offers varied weather on a whim.  Today, there was no need for coats, and the air was still.  My oldest daughter joined her first basketball team this year.  She and her third grade buddies seem to be enjoying it.  They are 1-1.  At the last game you would have thought it was a NBA playoff.  8-9 final score, it was one of the best games I have ever been to.  Yeah, I am that dad.  I have a voice loud as thunder, I am 6’4″ (194 cm) tall, and love my daughters with a vibrant energy.  I love them so much, daily, it makes my heart tremble.

Since I do shift work, I get weekends and weekdays mixed up.  I say things like, “This is my Saturday,” even though for the rest of the world it is Monday.  I made the mistake of telling my middle daughter that we would hit the local gym to shoot some hoops on Monday night, because I thought it was Saturday.  I drive into Denver on Monday’s for college.  My middle daughter wants to play basketball too, and she was heart broken.  She was about to cry and I saw her face crumple and her lips tremble.

I sat her down, and told her I was sorry, and that I would set up our hoop at home, in the garage so that they could shoot around even if its cold outside.  When I drug the basketball stand from the back yard to the garage, it didn’t fit by a matter of inches (many cm’s).  So I decided I would put it out at the end of the driveway.  I had pulled my beautiful black pony (Mustang) out of the garage and I had it parked on the street.  I drug the basketball goal out of the garage, and set it at the base of our sloped driveway, to survey some rocks I would have to move to anchor the goal.  In that moment, the mountain air picked up, and the mast of the top heavy basketball goal, began to tremble.

Many years of my adult life has been spent working in industry.  Safety is drilled into my brain.  The statement of “If it falls, don’t try and catch it!”  This applies to “T” heads on industrial printers, carts of glass sheets, motors on hoists, and super sacs on forklifts.  The basketball goal began to fall right behind me.  Like a mighty tree, whose roots has let loose their tight grip of the earth.  I saw it out of the corner of my eye.  It was headed right for my mustang.  All I could do was, say, “No, no…”  It hit my hood in a crash, and slid off the front of the car.  My fists began to tremble.


I went into the house, feeling angry and stupid.  I knew, I just knew, if I made a big deal about this, I would sour my girls hearts about anything and everything basketball.  I love my girls more, much more than my car.  I went to find my wife, she helps a lot in these moments.  When I found her, I said, “Guess what the basketball goal fell on?”  She quickly responded, “Are you ok!?!”  I said, “No, not me, it fell on my car.”  More fear gripped her face, as if to imply, ‘if it hits my husband, he can take a hit.  If it hit his car, there is going to be trouble’.  She quickly said, “Oh no!”  I said, “Don’t worry, I really want the girls to have fun ‘Hoopin’ it up’.  Everything will be ok.  Her warm smile began to tremble.

When my girls got home from school, they dropped their backpacks and ran outside to start shooting around in the street.  New girls sized basketballs, one with pink stripes and the other with blue stripes.  A new net, and an anchored basketball hoop.  I looked at the scarred hood of my sports car.  I felt like Mad Max, with a chewed up black V8 interceptor.  I was the conquering daddy.  The wasteland of disappointment and anger, was conquered.  I watched my girls laughing and shooting baskets, my dark mood lost its hold of my heart.  The trembling of the day, was gone.


Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

Mother’s Aesthetic

Watch your step, as your bare feet attempt to navigate the chocolate milk stained carpet.  Some post apocalyptic toy war has left many casualties on the living room floor.  A cat licks spilled milk off of the kids table, while another bats off bills and loose papers from the kitchen island.  There are thousands of invisible sandbags strapped to a mothers shoulders every moment of every day.

The girls hair is wild, full of knots, and all of the precious minutes to get ready for school have been eaten by the clock that hangs slightly crooked on the wall.  A little boy who has only existed for 2 years, decides of take off his diaper.  He now spreads sludge over everything he touches, like a crashing meteor fouling anything beautiful in its path.  The dog jumps in to help clean up the situation.  Somehow, someway, mothers find a way to fight back the tide,  to win the battle of moments.

Laundry, dishes, bills, cleaning, phone calls, appointments, broken cars, all attack mothers, who have sacrificed so much for kids, and hubby.  Amidst the weary domestic war of life, in the aftermath of family, the scene somehow holds an appealing aesthetic value.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert