Denise
There is something about coming home
to this empty house, yesterday’s
heavy downpours scouring
clean the already
weathered deck
where I sit
wishing for,
wanting,
you.
No Dad To Come Home To
No Dad To Come Home To...
Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
Thank God I’m not working tonight.
I’ve got six of my own,
And a stepdaughter at home,
And a momma keeping things right.
I wonder if they’re at the table
With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
When I get off the highway
And pull in that driveway,
Will they run to the window again?
Daddy’s home, daddy’s home, I can hear you,
Though I’m still eighteen miles away.
This old station wagon’s
Got a muffler that’s dragging,
But everything’s going my way.
Momma put your head on my shoulder;
Let me hold you tight to my heart—
You’ve had a long day at home;
You’ve been working all alone—
Everyone’s doing their part.
She says, “Kaleigh is up in her bedroom.”
But she can’t really figure out why.
I find her upstairs
In an armload of bears,
And she looks at me softly and cries,
Was I sad with no dad to come to?
Did it hurt he was so far away?
Did I sit by the phone
And wait for him to come home
Like Margaret and EJ today?
Little girl, you can cry on my shoulders,
Though I can’t really say how it feels,
But if one thing is real
It’s this love that I feel,
And it’s one thing nobody can steal.
You had Nana; you had Papa; you had Mama—
And your momma was with you all day.
With her Ram pickup truck
And a boatload of luck,
You found me and you asked me to stay.
Now you’ve got your brothers and sisters.
You’ve got a step-dad trying to write songs;
You’ve got a momma who knows
How to make that love grow
Like them summer days coming along.
So, how about tonight we go dancing
Through every store in the mall.
If the kids don’t make scenes,
We’ll have food-court cuisine,
And wind up having a ball—
And if the kids don’t make scenes,
We’ll have food-court cuisine,
And wind up having a ball.
How about tonight we go dancing….
Superman
Superman
There’s a little blonde boy in a superman cape
Racing around the back yard;
Sayin’, “Daddy don’t you know I can fly to the moon;
I’m gonna bring you back some stars.
And after that I’m gonna save the world”
Cause I’m superman today.”
I scoop that boy right into my arms,
And this is what I say:
You don’t need a cape to be a hero
You’ve got all the special powers that you need
Your smile’s enough to save the world from evil
And you’ll always be superman to me
That little blonde boy in the cape again
Says he’s gonna jump off the deck.
I say: “Little man, can’t you just slow on down;
One day you’re going to break your neck?”
He says, “Don’t you know that I can’t get hurt
Because I’m superman today.”
Well I scoop that boy right into my arms
And this is what I say:
You don’t need a cape to be a hero
You’ve got all the special powers that you need
Your smile’s enough to save the world from evil
And you’ll always be superman to me
One day he woke up and didn’t want his cape,
And we knew that something weren’t right
The doctors said, “We just don’t know.
We better keep him here for the night.”
So, I held his hand and stroked his hair
Until somehow he fell off to sleep,
Then I knelt at the window
and prayed to the stars:
God, help me own leap.
I’ve never been much of a prayin’ man;
I’ve never had a faith very clear;
But give me a sign and I’ll step into line;
Just get my boy out of here—
I’ll give you everything any man’s ever got:
I’ll give you every bit of my love—
And a prayer came back to me
In a whisper from above…saying:
You don’t need a cape to be his hero
You’ve got all the special powers that you need
Your smile’s enough to save the world from evil
And you’ll always be superman to me
That little boy woke up in a hospital room
Looking so quiet and sad.
I bring him in his cape and I say “Big boy,
How about a smile for Dad?”
And those wide blue eyes filled up with tears
“I’m not superman today.”
Well, I scooped that boy right into my arms
And this is what I said…
You don’t need a cape to be my hero;
You’ve got all the special powers that you need.
Your smile’s enough to save the world from evil,
And you’ll always be superman to me;
Yeah, you’ll always be superman to me
~Denise Fitzsimmons
Life Ain’t Hard; Its Just a Waterfall
Life Ain't Hard--It's Just a Waterfall
You say, hey,
who are you to say that you’re the one
to go telling me just where I’m coming from.
You can have your cake
but don’t frost me ‘til I’m done.
I can’t be fixed and I can’t afford to stall;
because life ain’t hard it’s just a waterfall.
Sometimes it happens we,
we like to play the one-eyed fool,
so we can act like we don’t know what to do—
but it’s a sad-eyed mask
and it’s never really true;
I’ve seen you backstage at the hall,
trembling before the curtain call,
and you know life ain’t hard; it’s just a waterfall.
and you feel it how
it’s coming at you now
and you feel it how
it’s all around you now—
and you’re loving and you’re feeling
maybe mixed up
maybe stealing
a little time
I’m just amazed
that somehow we keep dealing…
You and me we spin, we drift
we’re daring to be free:
in a mirrored calm time echoes
like a sneeze—
just when you think it’s all a dream:
everything you are has already been,
just when you think you’ve seen it all
a boiling wind comes screaming in a squall
and you say life ain’t hard,
it’s just a waterfall—
yeah, life ain’t hard; it’s just a waterfall—
life ain’t hard; it’s just a waterfall.
Metamorphoses
Metamorphoses
It’s something I‘ve hardly ever thought of:
this simple and rattling old diesel
has always gotten me there and then some;
and so at first I think this sputtering
is just some clog, and easily explained:
some bad fuel maybe, from the new Exxon,
or just shortsightedness on maintenance.
I’ve always driven in the red before,
and these have all been straight highway miles —
(Except for that short trip out to Zoar Gap
to catch the last of the late season trout,
surprised to find them still rising, sipping
my high hackled Humpy’s and Coachman’s
from dark pools in glazed and shimmered twilight.)
But that was nothing and of no account.
I drove Tuesday down to the town meeting,
and argued about the new town landfill
and proposed cutbacks in school athletics,
and then to Sears for a fifteen amp fuse.
At any rate there is no way around it.
I can only smile sheepishly, glad
that I’m really not in any hurry.
Still I feel like a fool out flagging trucks,
gesturing for help I can’t give myself,
hoping that my lines don’t need to be bled,
and I would have to spend that time thinking
of some way to explain this empty tank
to someone who probably knows better:
You know I always thought that maybe
something like this could happen to me —
but not now, not yet.
