Sunday, June 17, 2012

a walk to piazza Navona

a walk to piazza Navona
sun is shining on the carnival crowd
regulars and newbies free long  last;
rush about without sense or purpose

without the very cold and rain
snow too we’ve seen
quite enough,  for this is Roma
imperial city of old
worn and tattered
repair the holes in the street again
though not until they’re too large to walk around
oh, the sky is clear blue and bright this time

buy  a piece of this place for a lot of loot,
then rent it out
parents will pay so their children can
drink and party the nights away

and we’ll come back again
be it in sun and rain or moon
to see  the fountains and work of countless artisans
from and for ages beyond measure

three m's and me in city life

dear reader i want to help you.
there are three m’s in this story
my m,  friend maria and chinese maria3
there.  you’re ready.   simple as can be.

seated  in  our Chinese restaurant
m. can immerse to a point
she tells me as I wonder
what point is that?

maria arrived moving slowly
we greet as she sits gingerly
having fallen in the shower last week
and whacked well  her ribs for real.

maria 3 came to hear
about the mishap, pen in hand,
and to take our orders, no mystery there,
for us it is the usual.

at this point i mentioned the man
who lives on folded cardboard boxes
down in front of the pharmacy
on busy Corso  Vittorio

saw him watering  the tiny plants
springing up in the cracks on the sidewalk.
this is the city, where you tend your garden
 where  you find it.  

we talk, ate and depart.
then gather on  the outside.
to the man selling umbrellas
we show him ours,  as all notice rain had passed.
that’s 3 m’s, lunch and me
and briefly raining weather
no confusion,  call it a Sunday
wrapped and packed together

i've painted so many

i’ve painted so many
Ohio wants boats and light houses
Roma likes loose abstraction
while i’ve maintained post impressionism

leaning away in style
cause i am free and growing
reaching with my brushes
seeking to find

consistent in my stretch
for another thing
even i never knew
and may not get to

a summer festival banner weekend

a summer festival  banner weekend
for small farmer apple town Ohio
when curious regular folk and their cousins neighbors
turn out, see ‘em,  lining up and down the way.

have a meal, spin the wheel,
try a share of homemade pie , amid the chattering.
an sample some of yesterday,  here today.
and be sure to view  old tractors on parade,

rolling clean and well buffed like everyone.
she pours me a bit of homemade  lemonade.
go ahead sun, shine, while kids crank that ice cream ready,
and, life, we’ve  got it made. oh, yes,  we’ve got it made.

doing something well takes time

to do well may be easy
but always takes time

do a thousand times
with care and attention

that ’ll learn ya
and might get some mention

art is

first you get the turkey,
 take him for a long walk, shake his hand,
wack  his head off, cook him at three- fifty
or  thereabouts,  bones an’ all
a long, long time.

leave ‘em dry  outside  on the picnic table in the sun,
many suns and moons.
 take notes or will I have to repeat myself?
then  come back in like twelve years
make sure it’s like twelve years, think dozen.

take any bones you find or pieces thereof
and stack it or ‘em.  the process is
kinda like  how you  bake a cake from scratch
only if you pile it nice you call it art.   
pretty slick.  got it?
don ‘t try to eat anything, it’ll make you sick;
art is for looking and to have feelings about.

suffer and benefit

is the name
of my would-be book of poems
not leaves, Walt,
not leave of anything  –  no way.

mine leaves  the hard part
your too is two and to
learn what  is next
do it (i don’t get it)

so there is pain,
what’s new about that?
now let me see
where was I . . . at?

oh, yeah,  been there.
perfect fit,  benefit.
all  life is tinkering:
a work in progress.