A Son’s Love

A son’s love is God’s way of saying, I’m on your team.

A son’s love urges you to become a famous children’s author but funnier than Weird Al.

A son’s love is an unexpected hug from behind when you’re on the ground cleaning up after him.

A son’s love spoils you rotten because your tolerance for petty, passive aggressive behavior from lesser Alpha males becomes significantly less.

A son’s love makes you feel like a winner inside because you know he believes in your enormous upside.

A son’s love allows you to relive your childhood through more mature lens and start reteaching yourself the proper way to hold a pen.

A son’s love is a natural transfer of extreme joy. Assuming you’re raising your boys on more than just soy.

A son’s love is a 2nd chance at respectable redemption because abstaining from all hard booze at home for them does wonders for your complexion.

A son’s love never ceases to amaze like endless repeating viewings of Richard Linklater’s Dazed.

A son’s love makes you incredibly proud, especially when they deliver such A plus nicknames in your honor like “Always Loud.”

A son’s love makes you feel luckier than Lou Gehrig on earth. Batting behind Babe Ruth every playoff-birth.

A son’s love means I’ll silence the next guy who tells my son to shut up in a scoff because his head will be knocked right off.

The End
By,
Michael Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

 

When The Children Laugh

I should’ve called this poem “When My Children Laugh” because a stay at home comedian doesn’t get out much really.

And I don’t have as much experience making other kids laugh despite my propensity to deliver funny silly.

This Stay At Comedian used to live for adult laughter yet when the children laugh it touches you deeper forever after.

When my kids laugh, it grips my heart and pops it out of my chest like the voodoo doctor from Temple of Doom. Ok not my analogous best.

All 3 kids of mine have beautiful laughs of their own. Each one beaming with expansive, fun filled color like a new age hipster made Snow Cone.

My 4 year son now quotes me. Funnier dad, happier baby. Now that’s supposed to be funny Carol from LinkedIn, not maybe.

When the children laugh at your inspired ad-libbery, the comedy gods smile down the way they do at hysterical resistors who still support Hillary.

When the children laugh, it means they’re not jaded inside or in trouble of developing a rough hide.

I don’t want my kids to develop thick skin so fast. Because no age of innocence lasts.

I still listen to Hair Metal ballads of old because I long to touch the old with laughter. I refuse to fold.

Despite a mother who insists I dump my son off to daycare. So I can become a Garbage Man. Slinging shit for a living is some family plan.

No, shooting for shit isn’t my life motto. My 3 kids look up to me like I’m a comedy giant who hit the lotto.

I refuse to leave my 3 kids behind for a desk job in the city. Never writing my book the Stay At Home Comedian would be a pity.

This Stay At Comedian is bound for literary glory. F the stand up comedy roadshow. I’m here to stay. To do the writing I want, when I want in any which way.

My new friend resolution was to befriend an editor who can change my life for the better. I better get cracking on banging out those query letters.

Fight hard to stay at home writing in your happiness kids bubble. Where specs of grey in your beard are perceived as a comedic sage man stubble.

This White Lion lightens up when the children laugh. I must make a living off laughs because I suck at math.

By,

Michael Kornbluth

In My Kids Lifeless Room

Without brother and sister in it. It feels bare.

Stripped of all imaginary play talk to fill the air.

Matilda not playing honey in there with Arthur feels incomplete.

Like their beds normally made or the room remaining neat.

Cloud chair jumping is put on hold.

Without them, the room is static, empty and old.

No more Arthur saying. Dad, get out of my room.

I’m grown up now, so zoom.

Matilda isn’t around to feel up dad’s beard before she goes to sleep.

Like Kurt Russell’s hair, her emotive, oohing and ahhing to this runs quite deep.

I see Arthur in his bed without a worry wrinkle in sight.

Looking extra angelic as I tuck him in already asleep at night.

Matilda, now known as 10 in 3 years will soon outgrow her bunk.

Or break it from scaling her ladder with such forceful funk.

My lifeless kids room longs to reunite.

With my 2 precious children. Who give it such beautiful light.

By,

Micahel Kornbluth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Kids Love Back

Because you let them turn your bed into a 24/7 open milk bar. Which cures any potential abandonment issue scars.

Because you show interest in their stories and don’t space out on them every two seconds like a super stoned Dory.

Because you come up with funny nicknames in their honor like Eight Foot 2, Rock Star Ready and Art Show USA. Which they never heard Dr. Seuss say.

Because you never bitch or moan about them taking away from your precious time. Unless my wife’s been working 4 days straight and I haven’t had time to get into a zone banging out free verse lines.

Because you play with them come rain or shine. Thinking to yourself, I can’t believe their real or mine.

Because you reward their good behavior with fancy treats whenever they’ve been fuss free and don’t wiggle once in their seats.

Because you draw deal boards which make their imaginations run wild like a wide eyed, dream on, I can do anything consumed child.

Because you make them feel like the most important center of your universe instead of the reverse.

Because when you say I love you it doesn’t feel manufactured hoarse like your forcing the issue to avoid a divorce.

Because you make an Open Sesame Humus Bagel Sandwich with muenster to give their lunch options for camp more zest. Knowing do it dad refuses to settle for second best.

By,

Michael Kornbluth