Poems for Preston(or other kids)- by Travis Peck

Measuring up

Would you do me a favor and measure me,

No matter how hard I can not see,

The top of my head keeps moving around,

I keep trying to see but fall on the ground,

Head over heels I flip and I flop,

I wish I could measure from bottom to top,

My arms won’t reach and my tape is to short,

Moms are good help with problems this sort.

Up on my toes

Thank goodness thank goodness,

I’m finally here,

Just tall enough to go way up there!

I’ve dreamed of this moment,

Since life first began,

Now the days finally here, flatfooted I stand.

I’m next in line, I see the sign,

Must be this tall,

To ride on this ride.

I step one more step and just by a nose,

I’m still to short, but wait…

Not up on my toes.

  

Mud Pies with Flies

My mother will love it,

She’s my biggest fan,

She’ll be astounded,

I used her best pan.

It’s like no creation,

That I’ve ever made,

Not the pickled rock soup,

Or the hot lemonade.

Much better than raw chicken,

Cooked in the sun,

Or the melted cheese and worms,

On a hot dog bun.

 

It goes far beyond,

My dog fur surprise,

It’s better than grass pasta,

And pinecone fries.

I’ll have chef status,

At the fair first prize,

When mom eats my signature dish,

Mud pies with flies.

Helen keeps Yellin 

Excuse me Mrs. Clark,

But could you please,

Tell Helen to stop yellin,

She’s making me sneeze.

I know it sounds crazy,

But each time she shouts,

My nose loses control,

And stuff starts flying out.

Helen keeps Yellin,

And it makes my skin crawl,

She just did it again,

Now my skins on the wall.

I do hate to bother you,

I know you are busy,

But Helen keeps yellin,

And it’s making me dizzy.

The room it is spinning,

My brain can not focus,

Helen keeps yellin,

It’s no hocus pocus.

I’m afraid if she doesn’t,

Stop all this distracting,

I won’t be able to control,

How I’m acting.

in love. -by Travis Peck

Listen to this as you read, it was what I was listening to when I wrote this poem.
(Hold Control and click the link. It will open in a new window.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAOFacnZdtU

in love.
by Travis Peck

In darkness we find light,
From our souls burning we ignite.
While the world spins askew,
It created me and you.
Shared experience life in days,
Our heart’s song plays.
Crooked new and solid old,
Memories of silver and gold.
Crashing waves and walls,
Smashing fades and crawls,
Delighted breeze northern chill,
Southern comfort undying will.
Pleasantry in familiar face,
Security through warm embrace,
Sand and stone standing firm,
Educated life we learn.
Intuition woman’s skill,
Acquisition man’s thrill,
One for another in melody and verse,
Means of honor both coerced.
A greater sum than parts,
Two in one beating loud hearts.
Daily distractions,
Minor infractions,
blessed, dressed and messed, in love.

Bikes, Blades and Blood

Adventures with cousin Chad -

1990 – Claremore, OK 00:00 hours (after midnight)

While spending the night at cousin Chad’s house, he suggests riding bikes. I am eight years old and not familiar with hand breaks. He gives me the crappy old bike with brake lines running all about. We make a few laps around the neighborhood and on one of the final laps decided to see how fast we can go down a huge hill. (I’ve been back since; it is roughly a 10% grade.) As I peddled with the fury of a determined nine year old, the front wheel became intertwined with the brake lines, turned abruptly left and slammed both me and the bike to the ground. A bloody mess on the concrete and a Terminator face would be discovered after I regained consciousness. It’s funny how Chad is always involved in carnage.

1993(ish) - Houston, TX Marina/Resort (after midnight) 

Night number one at the Houston hotel, Dad and little sis are asleep we ask mom if we can go skate. I think our pitch included how safe it would be because there are fewer cars. Either we were that good or she was tired of hearing us ask, permission granted. Only moments before our convincing performance Chad had mentioned how he never used his brake and that really it gets in the way more than helping. In-line skates only have one brake and it is usually on the right skate, Chad decided to remove this single safety device to improve performance. We skated down the hall and into the elevator. We took it down to the parking garage basement and took off like we owned the place. Between cars around pillars and up the loading ramps all was good with the world. As we surfaced to the ground floor parking, our next obstacle was the down ramp back into the basement. It must have been after midnight at this point. Who could possibly be pulling out of the garage at this hour? On our first attempt down the ramp a Mercedes came flying around the corner and nearly took us both out. Brakes or no brakes getting hit by a car would have ruined the night.

Ultimately our mission was to find the fitness center located at the top of a steep hill. Sidewalks lined the drives and we stayed mostly on the road until we found the facility and the apex of this rather large somewhat intimidating slope. As we turned back down heading for the hotel Chad took off first. He started gaining speed almost immediately. I could hear the click clack of every section of sidewalk he crossed over as I followed behind him, riding my brake. It played out like this, cars were coming up the hill on our left and to the right a two foot tall row of upright logs blocking the marina waters twenty feet below. Chad (a brilliant mathematician and engineer) had only made a few miscalculations but they proved vital. As he hit top speed with no exit plan, the sidewalk ended with no ramp. Only a curb followed by a gap and another curb. His feeble attempt to jump off the curb worked, until he landed. His skates came out from under him and I stood in horror. We were going to be in so much trouble.

He quickly popped back up and we assessed the damage. It suffered a few nicks and scrapes and one spot in particular looked like a small rock might have been lodged under the skin. I asked if he was going to put the brake back on his skate, he hit me in the arm and said yes. I gracefully skated back as he dragged one leg behind slightly. We entered the room and announced to my mother what had happened. As it turns out the small rock under the skin was about the size of a kernel of popcorn but it was indeed stuck in his knee. Mom removed the rock and began looking for some rubbing alcohol to clean out the wound. Dad and Hayley continued to sleep. Mom couldn’t find any rubbing alcohol but did have ear drops. (Ear drops are basically pure alcohol.) Chad held his knee up sitting on the edge of the bathtub. When mom squeezed the bottle a small stream of liquid shot into the open wound and Chad screamed out worse than we he wrecked. Everyone was now awake. I never saw Chad on skates after that, I wonder if he still has them?

We've got a lot of years left, what trouble might we get into next? Warrior Dash was a good start, maybe I need to get some rollerblades for the summer?

Warrior Dash Tulsa 2011 Cousin Chad

24" vertical - Head Injuries are Hilarious

As of late my son has been dunking on his mini hoop hanging on the door in his room. His long arms and his abnormal height for an eight year old give him the ability to get fancy with his dunks. He goes full speed 99% of the time. I think as a boy you challenge yourself and others in physical competitions on nearly a daily basis. Arm wrestling, foot races, pull-up contests anything that can prove you are bigger better or badder. Preston has let me know on multiple occasions that he is the second fastest kid in his grade. As it turns out, he only knows he is slower than his best friend. Same difference.

Growing up you don’t always need somebody else around to see how awesome you are. In fact, I can remember jumping to touch the top of the door casing every single time I went from the kitchen to the den.

Let me preface this next little bit with a confession; I consider myself athletic. That’s right I said it! And those of you who know me can vouch for me later. I play/played multiple sports and despite a debilitating handicap of having two parents that played in the band, I overcame the odds. Football, basketball, shotput and discus, a few short distance races, a couple warrior dashes, racquetball, jousting, speed checkers, fast pitch wiffle ball, horse leaping, chariot racing, cow chip throw, frying pan toss. Moving on...

With all the athletic ability in the world there are still certain things you can’t do. Even at age 19.

It was a lovely evening at my parent’s house hanging out with my girlfriend, Jessica. Everyone was away from the house (wink). That is not what this story is about, minds out of the gutter people. She had to go home and it was time for me to kick back and enjoy some television.

Summertime meant it was very hot in Oklahoma and extra circulation to the sunroom was needed. We had a simple box fan sitting on the single carpet covered concrete step between the living room and the sunroom. The sunroom was built on to the house by the previous owners and their choice of door was sliding glass patio style.

I don’t know if I was just stoked about life in general but I reverted to being eight years old. I decided to run to the kitchen for something. Returning, running as fast as you can in a fifteen foot sprint, I made a decision, a poor decision. I knew the fan was there and I knew I had the ability to jump and clear it no problem. I knew I could jump much higher and in fact as my feet left the ground my confidence was peaking. What I did not account for was the simple math of the situation.

A simple math problem: A 6’ tall man-child is attempting to jump over a 20” box fan, his vertical leap is in the 17”-24” range. If the fan is sitting on the ground in a 6’8” door, how hard will he hit the ground when his head strikes the metal sliding door track?

As I easily cleared the fan with my feet, my head smacked so hard into the metal track it threw me to the ground. I landed with my tailbone on the concrete step and the small of my back on top of the fan. My 256lbs crushed the fan like a smart car that’s been hit by a semi-truck. If you have ever fallen on ice that is how fast it happened. Before I could figure out what had gone wrong, I immediately sprung to my feet and reached for my head which felt warm and wet. Blood was gushing so fast it filled my hands before I could make it to the bathroom. I was in the middle of a calm freak out at this point. I called Jessica and asked her to come back. I also called an ex-coach that lived across the street.

I told Jessica on the phone I had hurt myself pretty bad and in true loving fashion she was there at my side in no time.

When Coach Pierce showed up I pulled back the towel and I guess it gapped open because he flinched slightly and said “Yep, you’re going to need stitches.”

Jessica drove me to the hospital. By the time I got back in the ER my little sister and mom had shown up; little sis and Jess waited in the waiting room and mom came back with me. As they stuck needles in my head to numb the pain (hurt like a mother trucker) and sewed me up with blue stitches, sis and future wife were talking, unbeknownst to me.

One of them, “Wouldn’t it be funny if they wrapped his head like in the movies?”
The other one, “That would be hilarious!”

As I rounded the corner from the back room, my mummy wrapped head piece sent them rolling. It was funny later.

Again, no amount of athletic ability could have prepared me for the lack of commonsense. As with most non-life threatening accidents it was painful and funny. I guess I proved that math and physics are just as important as athleticism. It is only a matter of time that my son will do something stupid like this and after making sure he is okay, I will belly laugh, just like my parents and their parents and their parent’s parents before them.

Thanks for reading! Please share on Facebook and beyond!

The pics on this post are not mine, I borrowed them from Google images. Thanks.

A little rap for your Thursday

This is a rap beat I found online and some lyrics that came to mind while listening to it.

Hope you enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L018YchvnZA&feature=related

In the night time we see the way we are

And the life we choose....

Can we see the light,

Can it be tonight,

Is there something you are hiding inside,

In my words I heard you and looking to hide,

Just reach to the right,

I’m by your side and this time,

I will be your all and anything that you need will be just fine.

I can bring you peace,

You can piece my heart

I can bring you love

You be the start,

Of this life changer,

Schedule rearranger,
Breaking hearts out of cages.

Like I feel when I’m on stages

Wrapped in human spirit,

Can you hear it,

The words that make you smile
The worlds stop turning a while,

And underneath you see me reaching for the dream

A place up on top
The place where dreams stop
And reality comes crashing down

As the money and jewels surround

In the darkest of places I see smiling faces
With their hands in the air
And the weight of the world like it wasn’t there

Escape the day to day

Be on the way

And keep it going for me….

I can bring you peace

You can piece my heart

I can bring you love

You can be the start.

Night Escape - by Travis Peck

Night Escape

by Travis Peck

Inside feeling like the outside looks,

No way to leave this prison of crooks,

Placed between the granite walls,

In my last good pair of coveralls.

Greased wheels creaking,

And the oils all gone,

We need to turn around,
So we can reach back home

This isn’t the time or the place,

For your witnesses disgrace,

My polite attitude,

And my worsening mood.

I need the uplift,

Before the dayshift,

And the night quits,

Breaking beams on my head.

When the water flows dark

And though time for bed,

My legs keep running,

As the gun fires coming.

Until the heart wound heals,

And the wild bird squeals,

Whistles and tweets,

My time keeps moving in time with my feet.

As fast as I can run,

As the midnight comes,

And under pressure building tight,

Fires blaze in my hearts delight.

Create a mystery for the highest on high,

My savior seems to just pass me by.

And so now we see,

The light to be free,

And the place we always wanted to be.



The Oklahoma City bombing / Children's influences

April 19th 1995 – I was only twelve years old that day my home state was rocked by a domestic terrorist act, the largest in US history. My only connection with the bombing was living in the same state. No family members or friends were lost. I was in the sixth grade at Central Upper Elementary. We watched the news briefly but were shielded from most of the coverage. I don’t remember having fear, only joking about a yellow Ryder truck parked out front of our school a few days later. Making it a joke made it easier.

We knew life was lost and yet our days continued without delay. The world didn’t as they say, come to a halt. We didn’t question our life goals or reflect on how we could become better people, it was just elementary school. Not until September 11, 2001 as freshmen in college would my generation assess the world in a new light. I haven’t heard much more about the bombing other than the occasional visit to the memorial and the class trip to hang items on the makeshift chain link barricade shortly after the event. It was not until yesterday when I learned more about the story behind the bombing.

I just finished watching a special on the Oklahoma City bombing. It was focused mostly on the man behind the attack, Timothy McVeigh. All I could think as I watched the story unfold was ‘how did a little innocent child become a man possessed?’ Sure they told his back story of being bullied as a child and the perfect fit he was for military service, but surely there must be a perfect storm of mental problems that would lead a young man to terrorize his fellow Americans.

After a long afternoon of learning some not so pleasant details about the kids in our neighborhood, I guess my brain just connected the two issues. At some point our children are on their own in both public and private situations and it is up to them how they will respond. It scares the hell out of me to think that a perfectly “normal” child with above average intelligence can become so jaded or skewed in their views.

I hate the idea that a human can have thoughts so negative.

They pointed out that McVeigh not only shown sympathy for the Waco Branch Davidians but in fact was at the sight during a portion of the standoff. He said it was a travesty that the government would kill these innocent gun loving people. His motivations for the Oklahoma City bombing were more than only that event but his “logic” couldn’t be more off base.

Children need a fair shake. Not only does it help to have a peaceful upbringing but a stable support system. We are influenced by so many factors in the early years it is hard to know what will stick. It is a funny feeling; I am torn between hoping my son will be a more powerful positive influence and keeping him away from the “bad” kids. What if his levelheaded approach keeps the others out of trouble? What if the peer pressure is too much and he submits?

I like to think that individuals like McVeigh are few and far between. However, I think everyone is capable of extreme thoughts and actions but most choose to contain them and never act upon them. We all fight our demons and in the end hopefully control them. Dealing with these issues can take many forms. Writing, working out, running, baking, eating, reading, building, creating and destroying. Through religion and faith we often find peace, but in some cases even the ideas behind scripture can be twisted into words of hate. It is up to us to keep our children on the right path by teaching good and bad, right and wrong.

They also mentioned that McVeigh did not have a family to speak of, no real connections with his parents or grandparents and had no wife or children. The loneliness and individualism helps breed a position of disconnection from society and in his case a total lack of respect for life. Only we can show our son how important family and life are and the connection between happiness and self-control.

You don’t have to be a robot, but you don’t have to be extreme to be noticed or loved. There are ways to get a point across without harming others and in words we find power beyond our means. Making good decisions or right decisions are not always easy. I don’t fear for our son becoming a monster, but a victim of a monster. We can’t protect him forever but for now that is my only true function.

I would be naive to think that something like the OKC bombing will not happen in his lifetime. As the world becomes more global and technology continues to surpass our wildest imaginations and our population expands, the acts of aggression or retaliation will likely increase. I hope for a bright future. I hope my son is among the leaders helping drive positive messages and acts. I hope for many great things for him and will work diligently toward making those hopes reality.

The OKC bombing was a tragedy that could have possibly been prevented with a guiding hand. What if the other men involved would have had the guts to step up and stop it? What if McVeigh would have found help? ‘What if’ doesn’t get those 168 lives back, but it does help us see how human connections drive society in both the positive and the negative. I don’t know if the boys in our neighborhood are beyond help but I don’t see how reaching out to them could hurt. Some kids just need somebody to look up to and others just need a good friend, maybe we can provide both.