This morning
forty years later
I’m walking around humming hey jude
I’m humming it like it was yesterday
You know what I mean

humming right along
it just surprised me, that’s all
those four mop-heads got old
well, two of them got old
and look what happened to you and me

balls

We just got another ball off the Vatican christmas tree. It’s the fourth time we happened by when they were taking down the tree and we got one of the balls.
The balls get weathered, so they just give them away.
Easter must be early because they usually don’t take down the tree until after valentines day.

The first time we got a ball, in 2000, we were going to the post office at the Vatican. It was February and they were taking down the tree that day.
Meri said, “why don’t you go get one of the balls, they’re giving them away.”
"You want a gold one or a silver?" I asked.
"Gold," she said.
"We're a little late, you know."
"Just get one. I'm going in the post office."

I looked at the crowd and thought it was impossible, but started walking over to the tree in the center of the Vatican piazza. Hundreds of people surrounded the tree. Surely we were too late. About half way across the piazza from out of the mass of people an older couple walked toward me. The woman was happily holding a large gleaming sphere in each hand.
They stopped directly in from of me and the lady said, “We got two balls, but can’t pack them both. Which one do you want?” She held out a large gold and a large silver. Surprised and pleased the quest was over as quickly as it had begun, I took the gold one, and she seemed pleased with my choice.

after getting the christmas ball today
we were beyond piazza cavour
sitting down on a bench and
our friend bruce who we haven't seen for a few years
walks up and finds us

it’s another one of those roma coincidences
were you see someone you don’t expect in
another part of the city

nico

 

Nico’s ninety-four, can hardly see me
waves his hands and says
i’m like a big shadow
he’s not very tall

used to be a dancer acrobat
traveled europe with his pretty partner
i’ve seen photos of him holding her
above his head with one hand

he lives alone in the small third floor apartment
where his grandmother lived in the 1860s
where his mother was born
and so was he

about once a month or so
he cooks another pot of vegetable soup
that’s all he eats, and some nuts
that’s all he desires

much younger than a man of his years
he keeps talking - hopping about
overflowing energy, enthusiasm, and joy
with good wishes to all he encounters

roma - italian senate archive/library

 

italy’s senate is on
corso del rinascimento,
meaning street of the renaissance

next door is the senate library – the state archive
with great double doors framed in grey heavy stone
and a pointy roof like a birdhouse
an entranceway eighteen feet tall

from the bus stop directly across the street
I could see a couple of tourists, dark silhouettes
just inside the open doors looking
beyond the sun-lit interior courtyard
over the pillars of the building on the back side
and then above to the decorative white, spired
belltower of the church behind the library

an acquaintance, roberto, had been
the senate librarian
for a lifetime
now retired, another takes his place
while the usefulness of this centuries old building
goes on

coincidences

the other day meri saw some guy from the 19 tram
that morning she saw him at roccos breakfast place
in another part of the city

many times I have seen familiar faces
on the other side of town
on the same day

a few days ago I had the idea to call ambra from the train
she already was at the next stop
waiting to board our train

she got on at the tiburtina stop
we had a nice talk for a half-hour or so
then she was on her way

there are two and a half million people here, but
I’ve noticed, and so have friends, that you see people
when you don't expect to.

roma is like that

sunday in roma

With no particular destination in mind we left home this morning and took a bus a few blocks to Piazza Venezia, the historical center of Roma.

We crossed in front where the well uniformed Carbinieri stand watch at the national monument, then walked around the side.
An art show of works by Paul Gauguin was underway at the Veneziana. There was quite a line.

On the side of the monument we started down the walk on the old crude pavement stones. Years ago we were there when tour group was coming up the hill and heard the guide call instructions to his group. Then a a few moments later a member of the group repeated the call to some stragglers “This is a part of the original Roman road, we have two minutes to get on the bus.”

Near the back side of the building we descended a staircase to the old jail where it is said that both Peter and Paul were prisoners and miraculously escaped. There are no signs to indicate this, and as with much of old Rome, you have to know what and where things are.

Then on the back side of the monument we stood over the old Roman Forum that stretches several hundred yards and two thousand years to the Arch of Constantine and the Colosseum. These Forum ruins are what is left of the Rome of the Ceasars. The worn buildings have been stripped and tumbled for centuries and recycled, in part to provide material to build the current old building of Rome.

Much of old Rome remains in the Forum, and today the tourists were about as plentiful as the residents and merchants on a market day of old. Oddly, the population of Rome is about the same as it was two thousand years ago, two and a half million.

Then we walked up and around to the Campidoglio, saw the statue of Marcus Aurelius on horseback and the square that Michelangelo designed to show it off. Today a wedding was taking place at the popular spot for civil weddings.

Then around and up again to a breathtaking terrace view over rome.

“Where’s the camera?” I asked reaching out for it.
”Didn’t you bring it? You were going to bring it.” She said.
“I thought you were bringing it,” I said.
“I charged the batteries, you were going to bring the camera. That’s the last thing you said,” she reminded.
“I asked if you were going to bring the camera.”
“And, you said you were going to bring it,” she said.

Then down, across the street and through the ghetto. A ceremony was going on as we passed. The president of the Hebrew community was speaking for the day of remembrance. The Nazis of World war II will not be forgotten.

We boarded the tram across the Tiber to Trastevere. We tried two different tables at a crowded Italian restaurant that was filled to overflowing with deaf people this day, so we opted to return another day, left and had Chinese food at our nearby regular Sunday restaurant.

Our friend maria met us, and said next week she’d take us to an old Roman eatery nearby.
We had coffee, talked and then returned home at dark. It was a fine day in Roma.

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