the blog has

the blog has become a wall to confront
some is italy and some is me
i wake up swimming in it
sea to si'

which poetic voice to use
something old or something new
what do you want?
what to do?

a friend wants to know a good place to eat
and all of roma pops up in front of me
i’ll come up with an answer when I see him
but for now it’s business as usual

meri and i went to lunch at Pasquali’s
sat the common table for the locals,
the citizens of roma, the head count.
how good can lunch at a family hole in the wall be?

saturday and the cook knows us
red pasta and a half liter of red
as good as it gets
then an electric bus home

presto, that's italian
that sounds like it means

i entered

i entered the windowless garage;
then gave attention to a sun-fraction
that gleamed on my eye as i stood
stolen from a somewhere frozen january dream

falling attentive to the intense stream
that poured into this darkened space,
my mind made mention to air dust
rising liquid white-tinted in the beam

from an up-high hole in the wall
came the length of light shooting,
blowing across my winter illusion
smokey air that swirled like snows

i took a prism from lying around
to hold the glass in the white falling
this caught-broken beam, interrupter of dream,
sans sound, played a colorful serenade scene.

since man's

since man’s meager time on earth
a period quite concise
we’ve sought to find our collective worth
and never are precise

it seems that none who’ve suffered birth
have been able to entice
knowledge to enter at full girth
or, to take one’s own advice

cell phones

leaping to a fast first
the italians took off with cell phones
use and abuse
they were hooked
everyone had one

and used them all the time
everywhere they’d go
in restaurants, stores, on the buses, in their cars
wandering in trances on foot up and down the street

crowding in groups of three or five or six
they’re all on the phone
or stopping one at a time on the sidewalk
waving hands and explaining something
it looked crazy, a mania

and for all the talking
all the talking
everyone talking
you’d think the world would change

and perhaps it has
italians have achieved the highest cell phone rates
in europe

realizing it
as suddenly as it began
they are now talking less

the buffalo

some rainy, foggy, chilly midweek
when secretaries call in sick
and postmen wear goulashes
go to the zoo and take in what’s left

splash along the water-covered concrete
past occasional trees bent, looking away
from the wind’s lick

see the muddy, mucky, peanut-shelled patch
where there stands the buffalo
knee-deep, with dirty, unkempt, matted hair
his eyelids closing out the drizzle
shoulders that held up america

clothed the indians in a montana mountain snow
fed starving wagoneers not quite to the promised land
mark of the plains
symbol of an era

it is fitting that he be visited
for his eyelids are closing now, america

lost him in the sun

he wrote the songs
played and sang them
with incredible american spirit

I’m grateful for
brief contact and
hold longstanding admiration
for all this great artist of our time has given

thank you, john stewart

i had the good fortune to speak briefly with john in ’65
at the north hollywood’s palomino in ’77
and the in the early 90’s in mill valley
where i didn’t know, but she told me,
it was buffy’s mom I gave a ride home in my ‘52 chevy truck

john, it was influential to have heard
your songs calling out to me

the lonesome picker has died
long live his memory
where the chilly winds don't blow
for every daydream believer

to home

with motorinos parked on both sides

and a lot of people, young and old, about on the narrow street

i began walking the few blocks home

i didn't hear the car come up behind me

or turn to look

as it sped past inches away

at Corso Del Rinacimento near the Senate

cabs, buses and four or five motorcyles

rocketed by as I crossed near the crosswalk

through the confusion

looking straight ahead

noise, movement

life in the city

everyone has their space

and uses every inch of it

another train

again to Orte, an hour north of roma

this time to look at a house the church is selling

two apartments, one each floor

and a basement, 500 meters squared

not your typical home

ancient, interesting, particular

the basement goes down three levels

with a dozen winding caves, wine press, a well and tunnels

all dug by hand into the rock

dating back 2600 years

by the etruscans

when there was lire

some times i want to write and sometimes i just want to add something nice to look at. i was going through photos and found this. i painted this before the euro, but i don't have the picture in front of me and i can't tell you when - about '98. it's oil on canvas. about 24x24.

at sea

at sea we sleep

with the rocking

tilting lapping waters

the hum of recirculated air

the turn of the screws

a ship-moving vibration

that dulls all senses

and becomes dream

are you now, or have you ever

one of the great things about night

is that it gets dark

think about it.

it even cools down at night

it’s like a time out

let’s keep it that way

back in ’02 vienna, austria was the first place in the world

to pass a law about light pollution.

the people who passed the law must have bitched as much as i do.

have you seen a photo of earth from space?

it’s lit up like a christmas tree

don’t get me wrong, I like free light. It’s great to have your house lit up and not have to pay for it.

but not with a street light shining in at all hours

who wants to be able to read the small print in the phone book in bed with the lights off?

so I wake up early - four or so

bad guys should do that

then sit quietly alone

they’d cause less trouble

and quit going to meetings where there are flags, banners or emblems

and don’t take any oaths

i like to sit in the dark.

when a light is on do the cops drive by

and wonder what’s going on in there?

“jack, there’s six guys in military fatigues and flack jackets in your laboratory taking all the lids off your paint cans.”

i heard that old people got up at night

but I’ve always done it

trouble sleeping?

no trouble at all

i like getting up when it’s quiet

even the dogs are asleep

the good thing about kitties is that they don’t bark

ever

and you don’t have to follow them around

with a plastic bag

we have a neighbor dog that gets up to pee

at two in the morning and then barks once to be let in

that’s cute

unless I’m sleeping with the window open

one bark and I’m up

light pollution and dog pollution

I like animals that are vegetarians

And totally biodegradable

headache, neuritus, neuralgia?

Where have all the flowers gone?

sunday in trastevere

giacomo canceled and couldn't meet us for coffee
he lives just up the street on san francisco ripa but
it started raining and he can't carry an umbrella
on crutches
someone opened a car door in front of his
motorcycle a month ago
he broke a leg

to get out of the rain
instead of going into the restaurant
we waited inside santa maria in trestevere
for our friend maria
then had chinese food
when she arrived
and passed a good time

http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/rome-santa-maria-in-trastevere.htm

orte

we rode an hour north by train to grey, stone Orte

built high atop a hill in 1300 and still intact

on quiet turning, odd angled streets the gentle bus man

told us of a restaurant just off the main piazza

each step revealed a scene to paint or photograph

the eating spot was quiet, provincial and well appointed

in a tired, sophisticated country way

we each had different tasty local pastas with red wine

after, coffee at a traditional bar, filled with locals

then took refuge in a somber old shelter built in a wall

and awaited ten minutes for the local bus

then caught a train in the rain back to roma

aquaforte engraving

another plate engraving or etching
this is my sixth year of doing them

this one, called "the builders",
was done on a zinc plate about five by seven inches

if you make an error it shows
you can't erase

a wax coating is applied, then scratched off the plate
then dipped in a 75% solution of nitric acid, cleaned,
inked and printed on paper that has been soaked
in water

it is a slow process of planning, preparation and execution
one at a time is printed

click on the photo to enlarge

a snowy day

here is a tiny a village in the alps near bessans, france.
click on the photo to enlarge. the alps are beautiful.

tram ride

Four young italians on tram 8

were laughing and taking photos

of the back of a mans head

riding on the tram.

(not just the head –

the whole man was riding on the tram)

The elderly balding man

had a five cent piece

stuck on the back of his head.

toward home

turning toward home

i walk collar up, huddled in random, quiet thought

amid the turmoil of cobblestoned old roma

tempered by the ages

of michelangelo, bernini,

shelly, keats,

and fellini

“oh, marcello” laments sophia

these weary streets are covered by now silent footsteps

put down through the ages

between some dusted grey buildings

nearly black, unattended

or vulgared in dashes by modern signage

how swiftly leaps time

day and night swing over

venders, thieves, beggars

in alleys

swarmed with map-clad tourists

while around thunder large buses and sirens

and all passersby suck exhaust

above are broken shutters, some missing

weather worn graffiti scratched in stone

potted plants on high-railed private terraces face the sky so as to look away from it all

core of me

the dentist says my tooth has a crack in

So its going to happen

extraction

another tooth is goin’ away

i’ve lost a few already

like someone who loses a limb and still has feelings in it

could this tooth be the core of me

maybe they’re all wrong and my brains are in it

the very core of me

yank it and I’ll be gone

wait and see

the last to know

okay
so i have a bit of disability
but i thought it impaired only my disposition
(i never read the instructions)

with confidence, courage and meri
we went to a week long ski place in the alps of bessans, france

it was more like Curly, Larry and Meri
(i was Curly)

and it was not actually a "week long" ski place
because it was still there when we left

should i start over?

okay
so we went to this place where
i dug, ground and pushed my face into the snow and ice
more than necessary

but it was fun, of a sort

my friend Max, one of the ski instructors
took me out of the beginners class in the first minute
and put me into the "absolute beginners" class

so i'll tell you -
those frenchies ski a lot.
we saw this kid about five doing a down hill
then fall flat backwards
AND THEN HE BENT UPWARD AND KEPT GOING!
he was down about one second

i saw a friend fall and got up in about three seconds

when i fell
i laid there a while and thought about things
like - what time is lunch?
where was i? the place looked familiar
in a white and snowy sort of way

i had long wooden stick-things tied onto my feet
how could i position them to stand up?

it took about five minutes to get up, everytime
sometimes i had help
sometimes i took the help down with me

wanna help?

i don't know if they will let me come back
i think i am on a list somewhere

engraving

An engraving looks like a pen and ink drawing, but from start to finsh the metal pate etching is an involved process. Part of the art is to make it look simple.