Sign Sign

By
Paul Bass

I had just been handed a note form the principle stating that, if I didn’t stop forgetting to go to school and not doing all my work, she would have no choice but to force me to repeat the 12th grade once more. I was so desperate, I followed her and when i cornered her I began to beg and waller around her feet pleasing, “Please, I have to pass, or my Dad will give the Amway distributorship to someone else!” She merely said, “Please, get out  of the women’s bathroom and take your twenty dollar bill with you!”
I did not know what to say. I was basically stuck. I was stuck to the floor. A janitor had to help get me up. As i left and walked down the halls, I began to think, “How am I going to attend school every day for almost two months? That’s unreasonable! Everyone’s going to the beach next week. How do I go to the beach and school at the same time?”
I went to God. I told Him I was in a bind and I needed a sign. “Lord, Show me a Sign! Some kinda sign! So i can know what to do! I can’t fail 12th grade again! I’m already older than the Phys Ed coach. Just give me a sign. Show me ....Please!

I must have yelled really loud and shook the building because part of the ceiling fell and almost hit me on the head. It’s funny, but at a passing glance, the part that fell, kinda looked like a couple of smoldering stone tablets.
I had to get outa’ there real quick before someone would make me pay for the damage. I already owed six dollars for an overdue Hardy Boys book.
I had to walk through some corn fields to get home. It might have been corn, it might have been lettuce. I can’t tell the difference. As I was walking, I just kept thinking, “How am I going to pass 12th grade? There’s gotta be some special way, a certain legality that can help me be on my way to Harvard. Please God, give me a sing!”
It became a rough walk as my train of thought was broken when I happened upon a broken crate of pencils. It must have fallen from a cargo plane. Then the ground cracked and swallowed me up. I would have never gotten out if I hadn’t stuck all those pencils into the sided of the crevasses and used them to scale my way out.
When I got home, the second I walked in the door, my mom started buggin’ me about homework and book reports and stuff. I basically ignored her. I was too busy figuring out what to do about my dilemma. My dad hit me with some chatter too. I didn’t have time for gibberish.
After dinner, a video, some tv and some Super Nintendo, I went to bed. I had a very strange and vivid dream, that I was walking down a road and I came upon a gate that looked like a giant book. On the other side of the gate was  large house with a couple of kids and a woman frolicking in the yard. They were playing in a pile of leaves that were actually dollar bills.
I couldn’t get to all this, though. I didn’t have a key to the gate. Along came a kid much younger than I, who used a ball -point pen to open the gate. I tired to squeak through, but BAM the book shut. Then a voice came out of the intercom box saying, “You gotta go tot school,. You gotta go to school.”
Then I woke up to my dad standing over me saying, “Wake up. You gotta go to school.”
My first thought when I got ready was, “What am I gonna do about school?” Then I came up with a plan. I figured that I would tell the principal that my uncle is real sick and he’s expected to die any day. Would it be possible that, in the case of his sudden death, I could miss a day to pay my respects?
I kept praying that I’d get an answer from God, an answer in the form of some kinda sign. Just any little sign.

The Smell That Came Back
By Paul Bass

Staring at the smell that
Came back from old leaves.
That came back from youth.
I see it every time I breathe.

Is there some way to filter this out?
Maybe turn a blind nose?
Hardly even possible,
As the Toucan named Sam shows.

Maybe I could skate around a lake
and fly right through a cloud of blooms.
Or I could grow really long nose hair
and make sure it’s properly groomed.

Maybe I could go to Macy’s
And let that lady spritz me.
Or go to a reptile farm
and see if that odor gets me.

I need to stink it out. Shout it out.
Whatever it might tell.
I’m just hating what I saw,
When I smelled what I smell.

Talkin’ To Her
By
Paul Bass

Talkin’ to her is like
goin’ without a hat
Calling on her is like
staring at a bird
Being around her is like
peanut butter on the street

I don’t know why she has that
It’s her power, my pain, her tower.
She uses herself like a gun.
She just points it and I run.
Or duck, or freeze, or put on
a sweater.

I am sure that some of these collections of words confuse anyone who knows me. Many are very old and full of 20's angst. I do feel compelled to post them, nonetheless.

That Girl
By
Paul Bass

I can’t pinpoint it, but that girl gives me a feeling
that I can’t quite pinpoint.
Well I know where it is, but it’s not polite to pinpoint.

She gives me a feeling like when I attended my
father’s bar-mitzvah. Like someone I’m real proud of
stepped out of boyhood and this time it was me.
Some can say that it’s just puppy-love
or infatuation, but I say it’s more than that,
 it’s a rash of some sort.
I care not for ointment, though, I could use something to remember her by.
Although we’ve never touched, I have spent a night under her bed and rummaged
through her socks while she slept.
Every time I see her now, I wish
she was the one for me and I could just
run right up to her and borrow money.
I wish I could just bring her home,
so she can beat up my sister for me,
Sooner or later I’ll get the nerve to spill something
on her blouse. I’ve just got to incite some emotion in her.
It doesn’t matter if it’s hatred or disgust,
It’s invisibility that I can’t handle.
I also can’t handle keys very well. I sure wish I was the one
with the key to her couch.

The Leap
By
Paul Bass

I once say a boy jump off a rock into the sky.
Up there was a branch that he caught and pulled
himself up.
I never thought this young man could reach this
branch in the sky.
I too, desired to reach the sky, but I had no
branch on which to land.
In fact, I could see nothing to grab.
But I knew if I jumped high enough, I’d catch something.
I reached both hands to the wide open sky,
Cocked my knees,
and shot off like a cannon round.
I rose and rose, yet saw nothing.
My momentum slowed and I stopped.
Just at the downward point, I felt a tight grasp
on each of my wrists.
Two large hands locked onto me and took me up.
I reached the sky.
There were alot of people hanging on branches up there.
I went further.
I passed the branches of the upwardly dangling.
I just so happened to pass the sky.
I passed space and was set down in a place called,
“There”.
I had looked,
but I leaped anyway.

Tommy-Bob
By
Paul Bass

Tommy-Bob was a little guy.
He wasn’t a performance artist
who likes to cut his own flesh on stage.
He went to church every
week and de didn’t
belong to a 12 Step beer drinker’s club.
He didn’t go to a strip joint
the night before his wedding.
He doesn’t have a pierced tongue
and his kids get disciplined
when they speak disrespectfully
to their mom.

He hasn’t had his dad put away
even though he’s really old.
He doesn’t dress up like Santa
and hand out condoms.
What an extremist.
What’s wrong with that man?

Stay with Me God

By

Paul Bass

Feelin’ chunky

Feelin’ Fat

Feelin’ like my singin’s really getting’ flat.

I need to hear God

I need His touch

I need to tell Him that I need Him Much.

A Valentine Poem Written Just For You
From A Guy Who Is Afraid To Commit

By
Paul Bass

Here it goes.
It’s a valentine poem that I’m writing just for you __________.
It’s a poem to show you how I really feel.
It’s a poem to say what needs to be said.
It’s a ‘straight from the soul’ poem that’s real.
And it’s one that wants to be read.
It’s not about tricks, no.
It’s not about sports. Oh.
And it’s not about food, so...
I am writing it about you, though.
I hope you like it. It’s packed full of heart.
And it should happen to hit you like a lawn jart.
Here it is.
You know that it’s true.
I love...

Spending time with you.
The end.

Apple of Death

By

Paul Bass

There are 8 things I’ll never forget

Actually there are 9.

Asking Jesus to save my soul.

Saving2 drowning boys.

My first Kiss

The day Reagan was shot

Striking out to lose the championship

Driving off to college

Tearing a ligament in my knee

My wedding night

And September 11, 2001

I could get my mind

Scrubbed clean

And forget my own name

And my dogs face

But never forget these nine

I think of that Tuesday

What I saw, what I still see

As the building started to fall

My mind tried to push it back up

Amid the tears that flood

The dust, the blood

What we saw, we still see

Fire and smoke

My mind kept begging

For the last minutes back

When the sun was bright

And the noises usual

We hear of an enemy

He hides in the shadow

Doesn’t care who he kills

And he will kill until

We are all killed

Or he is killed

They say we are targets

Because of our faith

A Christian nation

That’s news to many

In a country that

Turned from God

The irony is

We’re knocked down

But we’re on our knees

You have planted

What you tried to destroy

A people that prays together

A people brand new

Banished from the big garden

A country brand new

Just remember

You bit the Apple.

Happy Seat

By

Paul Bass

You work

Like Liquid Tide on a soily shirt.

Like rubbing a frog on an oily wart.

Like a tall glass of water for a long

Case of hiccups.

Like a gallon of gas to put in the old

Pick-up.

You work and.

I’m glad you were invented.

Like using starch to unwrinkled some shirts.

Like a bottle of the pink stuff when you’ve

Got the squirts.

Like those little bait trays to a house full

Of ants,

Like a tall glass of Metamucel when you try,

But just can’t.

I’m glad you were invented, but.

I don’t understand it.

Like people calling QVC to share their

Excitement.

Like spending 10 or 15 minutes trying to find

A rhyme for excitement.

Like a couple of girls pulling over to ask

Him the brand name of his pants.

Like recording a bunch of boring stuff done

By guys in robes and calling it CHANT.

I don’t understand it. But

It is a total delight

Like that uncomfortable stare.

Like the way we both fit in a

One person chair.

Like seeing a dark shadow and realizing

It’s yours.

Like sittin’ ‘round licking on

Each other’s sores.

Just a total delight.