not by the clock
nor sun’s final ray
the arch of the moon,
or shadows of what others say
will i change pace
for what I write
tumbling, veering, loose in space
off to places beyond sight
freely setting it’s own course
running when and where it might,
a sleek dark horse takes me where i go
with no remorse, I sleep well at night
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
dreamed i was
i dreamed i was someone else, you see
i said my name
and it wasn’t the same
when i looked she was where she ought to be
it never before happened to me
cause i was in the right place
it must have been a case
of mistaken identity
i said my name
and it wasn’t the same
when i looked she was where she ought to be
it never before happened to me
cause i was in the right place
it must have been a case
of mistaken identity
Thursday, February 12, 2009
intention
friend Tom called to mention
i didn’t post a poem that day
well, he’d missed mine, i’d say
and every day was my intention
it had been a year then i forgot,
simply, other things were going on
i wasn’t playing the sleeping pawn
a prognosticator i am not
i missed a day without remorse
now i’ll hop back on track
and write a stack
of poems, you see, i will, of course
i didn’t post a poem that day
well, he’d missed mine, i’d say
and every day was my intention
it had been a year then i forgot,
simply, other things were going on
i wasn’t playing the sleeping pawn
a prognosticator i am not
i missed a day without remorse
now i’ll hop back on track
and write a stack
of poems, you see, i will, of course
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Walker - one wholey knight
Walker Texas ranger in Italian
with the volume down
no messing around
the man’s a stallion
the show starts with a mess of guys
getting beat up by the ranger
and other helpers, no stranger
than the fact that no one dies
the old man sneezes
they take him to hospital
where he wears his hat, sitting tall
in bed, i mean, Jesus,
he stays there until he mends
walker beats up more of the bad
fellows, and i’m glad
i don’t watch until the program ends
i know the final score
Walker beats up everyone bad
and of this i’m glad
i’ve seen the show before
with the volume down
no messing around
the man’s a stallion
the show starts with a mess of guys
getting beat up by the ranger
and other helpers, no stranger
than the fact that no one dies
the old man sneezes
they take him to hospital
where he wears his hat, sitting tall
in bed, i mean, Jesus,
he stays there until he mends
walker beats up more of the bad
fellows, and i’m glad
i don’t watch until the program ends
i know the final score
Walker beats up everyone bad
and of this i’m glad
i’ve seen the show before
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
how can i best explain
how can i best explain
the trees and trails
the woods with clean water hills
that i knew in my youth
oh, somewhere there is a partial picture
that shows a wooded area
but it doesn’t taste of seasons
it doesn’t show the turtles in fall
the thin ice of winter
pollywogs in spring
or sasafrass roots in summer
when we were ten we listened to the frogs
in the forgotten pond
we dug forts and swung on vines
walked over the creek on the trunk of fallen giants
our highway was an overgrown remnant of
the old street-car bed
we knew it well, we read its signs
a garter snake, a portion of broken tie
the occasional bend
i may never mention it again
but hope some day to take you there
the trees and trails
the woods with clean water hills
that i knew in my youth
oh, somewhere there is a partial picture
that shows a wooded area
but it doesn’t taste of seasons
it doesn’t show the turtles in fall
the thin ice of winter
pollywogs in spring
or sasafrass roots in summer
when we were ten we listened to the frogs
in the forgotten pond
we dug forts and swung on vines
walked over the creek on the trunk of fallen giants
our highway was an overgrown remnant of
the old street-car bed
we knew it well, we read its signs
a garter snake, a portion of broken tie
the occasional bend
i may never mention it again
but hope some day to take you there
Monday, February 09, 2009
teach the children
if my kid’s kids lived next door door
instead of next moon moon
i’d stop in and say hi or they would
i’d teach them to do and quietly enjoy
to notice birds watching them
even the cat who sometimes isn’t really sleeping
keeps an eye on them
i’d try, i would, but example is the only way
for kids do as their parents
mine are destined
to continue the line
of doing lucky well
they have grown middle aged now
with families of their own
and live far away
my teaching is over
instead of next moon moon
i’d stop in and say hi or they would
i’d teach them to do and quietly enjoy
to notice birds watching them
even the cat who sometimes isn’t really sleeping
keeps an eye on them
i’d try, i would, but example is the only way
for kids do as their parents
mine are destined
to continue the line
of doing lucky well
they have grown middle aged now
with families of their own
and live far away
my teaching is over
Sunday, February 08, 2009
click, click
i'll put it here for you
once in a while we’ll click
you and i click. . . click,
click, rolling the same track
there is no order
no turning back on the blog
keep sifting drifting through
find something in the fog written for you
too bad it’s not leather bound
so you could hear the click of turning pages
and feel the weight of thick
paper on your fingers as you leaf
until then, brief poems will continue
to fall like drips from a faucet
into a pan – dap – dip –dap
scroll on down the hall amici, you can
once in a while we’ll click
you and i click. . . click,
click, rolling the same track
there is no order
no turning back on the blog
keep sifting drifting through
find something in the fog written for you
too bad it’s not leather bound
so you could hear the click of turning pages
and feel the weight of thick
paper on your fingers as you leaf
until then, brief poems will continue
to fall like drips from a faucet
into a pan – dap – dip –dap
scroll on down the hall amici, you can
Friday, February 06, 2009
all roads lead to Rome, more or less
a partial sun sparkle through bright clouds
is fine for a drive out of the city
until time to return becomes a curious
many hilled meander, for all roads
lead to Rome, or so it appears
according to all road signs
believing the signs can get you lost,
run you in circles, nick your patience,
rob you of hope, reroute you once
or twice through the nearby states of
confusion and despair before you
finally bumble-roam home into Rome
is fine for a drive out of the city
until time to return becomes a curious
many hilled meander, for all roads
lead to Rome, or so it appears
according to all road signs
believing the signs can get you lost,
run you in circles, nick your patience,
rob you of hope, reroute you once
or twice through the nearby states of
confusion and despair before you
finally bumble-roam home into Rome
Thursday, February 05, 2009
got gas, the cook-with kind
went to the bombola man
he sells gas, the cook-with kind
from his store on the corner,
an old, old man and his wife
that’s their life, serving this community
how much do I need?
I begin to put my hand to indicate the level of the tank
he says thirty euro and I tell him yes
does the doorbell work? cause the guys rings it
then I’ll run down to let him in
no problem, i know I’ll hear the motorino
and be at the door before he is,
gas me up baby, we want it now
got to make coffee,
need some hot chow
gas me up baby, do it now, do it now
he sells gas, the cook-with kind
from his store on the corner,
an old, old man and his wife
that’s their life, serving this community
how much do I need?
I begin to put my hand to indicate the level of the tank
he says thirty euro and I tell him yes
does the doorbell work? cause the guys rings it
then I’ll run down to let him in
no problem, i know I’ll hear the motorino
and be at the door before he is,
gas me up baby, we want it now
got to make coffee,
need some hot chow
gas me up baby, do it now, do it now
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
1502 and now
the document for this building where we live
shows that in 1502 the first two floors were erected,
three floors above were added later
early morning can be silent
here in the center of Rome
whose blocks and alleyways have known the ages
robust characters that laughed and cried,
lived and died here are forgotten,
covered in the dust to which they have returned
of them i feel not a trace
though i stand in their stead,
walk in their space,
have taken as mine their place
of joys and sorrows,
yesterday's tomorrows
there are no echoes of lingering bygone voices
in these halls of musty deeds, worn life pages
that have long passed along these walls
rubbed thoroughly into the mists of gone ages,
into that silence of the night
I will follow
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
good blue
absoblulutely skyness
all over the place
depths in waves
on my arms, my face,
blue and beyond I’d say
that sort of day we had
not so cold, not so bad
you’d like it, I know you’d do
and I mean it, really,
very blue
all over the place
depths in waves
on my arms, my face,
blue and beyond I’d say
that sort of day we had
not so cold, not so bad
you’d like it, I know you’d do
and I mean it, really,
very blue
Monday, February 02, 2009
Daws Butler
Daws was a friend of mine
one fun, wacky, hard working, intelligent guy
loving creativity and exuding it
in every way, at all times, for everyone
truly one of the best
recently i was lacking in something,
feeling cast distant from my desire to play music,
write poetry, write other things, do art,
unable to burst forth with things
then i thought of Daws, my mentor, my friend
That’s what it is, i miss the guy
the good spark, absolutely, one of the best,
talented and giving, loving life,
never one to criticize, always quick to encourage,
he issued all the license to have fun,
he was an inspiration for creativity and humor,
humor, go ahead, say it again, be redundant,
Daws would, then make a face or do a funny voice
it was wonderful having spent time with him,
Daws knew what side his toast was buttered on
and if he’d put an elbow in it, he’d look sad
say, “oh, yuck!” in such an exaggerated way
just to get you to laugh
one fun, wacky, hard working, intelligent guy
loving creativity and exuding it
in every way, at all times, for everyone
truly one of the best
recently i was lacking in something,
feeling cast distant from my desire to play music,
write poetry, write other things, do art,
unable to burst forth with things
then i thought of Daws, my mentor, my friend
That’s what it is, i miss the guy
the good spark, absolutely, one of the best,
talented and giving, loving life,
never one to criticize, always quick to encourage,
he issued all the license to have fun,
he was an inspiration for creativity and humor,
humor, go ahead, say it again, be redundant,
Daws would, then make a face or do a funny voice
it was wonderful having spent time with him,
Daws knew what side his toast was buttered on
and if he’d put an elbow in it, he’d look sad
say, “oh, yuck!” in such an exaggerated way
just to get you to laugh
Sunday, February 01, 2009
sorted photos
been a while since I’ve seen the
old times, the different places,
if everyone has taken a thousand pix,
let’s call them that, pix,
and we are going on seven billion people,
that comes to . . . uh, let me see, let me see
exactly more images than we have to save
rev ‘em up
open the flood gates of our drawers
and cardboard boxes on closet floors and free them,
let that stack of birthday faces and holiday places tumble
build houses out of them
course now they’re on digital files, a load of
air ball pie, pre-evaporated and doesn’t exist anyway,
so why did I spend Saturday night sorting
when i could have been cavorting?
old times, the different places,
if everyone has taken a thousand pix,
let’s call them that, pix,
and we are going on seven billion people,
that comes to . . . uh, let me see, let me see
exactly more images than we have to save
rev ‘em up
open the flood gates of our drawers
and cardboard boxes on closet floors and free them,
let that stack of birthday faces and holiday places tumble
build houses out of them
course now they’re on digital files, a load of
air ball pie, pre-evaporated and doesn’t exist anyway,
so why did I spend Saturday night sorting
when i could have been cavorting?
Saturday, January 31, 2009
drove out
drove out of the center of Roma,
a big deal to vacate our precious street parking spot,
then arrived in a stone city with kitties,
topped with a castle on a hill,
Palombara Sabina,
it only took an hour
to drive six hundred years into the past
following an hour walk around
we stopped at a restaurant on the way home
with two dozen hunters inside in camouflage suits
we wondered if it was safe to go in
as we got out of the car in the parking lot
three more hunters were getting out of their tank,
i mean “car”, they also wore head to toe camouflage
and didn’t smile
we asked them if the restaurant was open,
maybe they were having a secret meeting,
they said sure, and to go right in,
i said “we don’t have any costumes.”
they laughed instead of shooting us
yes we ate well,
the best lasagna of the ages
drove safely back to Rome
and found a parking space
a minute walk from home
tonight we sipped amaro
and talked about tomorrow
a big deal to vacate our precious street parking spot,
then arrived in a stone city with kitties,
topped with a castle on a hill,
Palombara Sabina,
it only took an hour
to drive six hundred years into the past
following an hour walk around
we stopped at a restaurant on the way home
with two dozen hunters inside in camouflage suits
we wondered if it was safe to go in
as we got out of the car in the parking lot
three more hunters were getting out of their tank,
i mean “car”, they also wore head to toe camouflage
and didn’t smile
we asked them if the restaurant was open,
maybe they were having a secret meeting,
they said sure, and to go right in,
i said “we don’t have any costumes.”
they laughed instead of shooting us
yes we ate well,
the best lasagna of the ages
drove safely back to Rome
and found a parking space
a minute walk from home
tonight we sipped amaro
and talked about tomorrow
Friday, January 30, 2009
in line
two of my friends lost their moms this month
one, and then the other,
mine went a few years ago,
all the dads have been gone a while
my wife called the parents a buffer,
without them
we’ve all stepped up,
and we’re at the head of the line
on the phone Les mentioned school
how our town was, who we were
we knew it all so well,
and how way back then
is only a mind’s blink away
in first grade I was sent to stand in the hall
for pulling her pigtails in class
way, way back then, in that other time
we weren’t aware how young we were
during the summers of fun, the apples of fall,
crisp winters, happy buoyant beginnings of spring
the teachers, classmates, dances
the whole thing whizzing by
in the tempo of a Souza march
every bit of life rang rain water sparkling clear
with ups and downs, and most often, fine times
as pages turn somehow
and here we stand
look at us, we are
those same kids we remember,
older now,
next in line
one, and then the other,
mine went a few years ago,
all the dads have been gone a while
my wife called the parents a buffer,
without them
we’ve all stepped up,
and we’re at the head of the line
on the phone Les mentioned school
how our town was, who we were
we knew it all so well,
and how way back then
is only a mind’s blink away
in first grade I was sent to stand in the hall
for pulling her pigtails in class
way, way back then, in that other time
we weren’t aware how young we were
during the summers of fun, the apples of fall,
crisp winters, happy buoyant beginnings of spring
the teachers, classmates, dances
the whole thing whizzing by
in the tempo of a Souza march
every bit of life rang rain water sparkling clear
with ups and downs, and most often, fine times
as pages turn somehow
and here we stand
look at us, we are
those same kids we remember,
older now,
next in line
Thursday, January 29, 2009
time for
reading and writing
all I have time for
what am I slighting?
where is the fun?
still I can’t get it all done
it seems either, or
one after the other
from sun to sun
all I have time for
what am I slighting?
where is the fun?
still I can’t get it all done
it seems either, or
one after the other
from sun to sun
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
roll on until you coast
I have to think about this. What I am doing here? Wait, It’s not what you think. I know I’m writing brief things each day. I am talking about the how as much as the what.
A different site is one option, because it’s hard to think of longer poems on more than one page of the computer. Then you have to scroll down. No one in their right mind wants to get into a lot of scrolling. Based on the unpublished comments to this blog however, i have a few readers ripe for an all night scrollathon.
So, I need pieces of paper with poems printed on – what normal people call a book. On the blog you have to read the two or three parts of a story backwards. That is a problem that needs resolution from the techies of this cyberworld.
Or I could use a guy standing on a hill reciting my poems - some other guy, not me. How about Peter O’toole in his youth? He can do it cause a blog is like a dream, isn’t it? I just dream it up and it comes about? Or what?
sailing to the coast
on a silver ghost
buckle up in motion
they pour that magic potion
movies on a jet plane
the hero’s
singing in the rain
now, it’s a primo flight
gonna fly all night
when she brought my tray
i heard her walk away and say
life is but a dream
a matter of time
now you've made the scene
so you may as well unwind
go ahead and dine
on crackers, avocados, cheese and California wine
A different site is one option, because it’s hard to think of longer poems on more than one page of the computer. Then you have to scroll down. No one in their right mind wants to get into a lot of scrolling. Based on the unpublished comments to this blog however, i have a few readers ripe for an all night scrollathon.
So, I need pieces of paper with poems printed on – what normal people call a book. On the blog you have to read the two or three parts of a story backwards. That is a problem that needs resolution from the techies of this cyberworld.
Or I could use a guy standing on a hill reciting my poems - some other guy, not me. How about Peter O’toole in his youth? He can do it cause a blog is like a dream, isn’t it? I just dream it up and it comes about? Or what?
sailing to the coast
on a silver ghost
buckle up in motion
they pour that magic potion
movies on a jet plane
the hero’s
singing in the rain
now, it’s a primo flight
gonna fly all night
when she brought my tray
i heard her walk away and say
life is but a dream
a matter of time
now you've made the scene
so you may as well unwind
go ahead and dine
on crackers, avocados, cheese and California wine
Monday, January 26, 2009
for the better
Obama is changing the world for the better
it is inevitable, for as you know,
in all organizations
things trickle down from the top
Obama is atop a worldly big one
good for him and good
for the rest of us
the good will trickle down
it is inevitable, for as you know,
in all organizations
things trickle down from the top
Obama is atop a worldly big one
good for him and good
for the rest of us
the good will trickle down
Sunday, January 25, 2009
dark eight
dark, eight in the rain
on a goodies run in the glare
Saturday night, doin’ it right
lamp light here and there
carefully of course, not to fall again
yesterday, a stairs slip may have broken my hand
saved the pizzas though
i’ll have an x-ray if the hand stays swollen
oh, yes, the rain run tonight,
saw a hunched dripping guy
walking by, said hi, Giancarlo
the optometrist round the corner
been to him over the years,
makes me feel the local I am
wandering Roma alleys in the dark
out on a lark cause we gave in,
she had a sore throat,
so i put on my coat and did the need
with good thought and speed
brought home the chocolate
on a goodies run in the glare
Saturday night, doin’ it right
lamp light here and there
carefully of course, not to fall again
yesterday, a stairs slip may have broken my hand
saved the pizzas though
i’ll have an x-ray if the hand stays swollen
oh, yes, the rain run tonight,
saw a hunched dripping guy
walking by, said hi, Giancarlo
the optometrist round the corner
been to him over the years,
makes me feel the local I am
wandering Roma alleys in the dark
out on a lark cause we gave in,
she had a sore throat,
so i put on my coat and did the need
with good thought and speed
brought home the chocolate
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