Saturday, April 04, 2009

by train to the sea

before leaving Monterosso Al Mare
i am already aching for the beauty
paining for what
i can not take with me
the voice of the sea
the breath of humidity
it is my life
my heart of hearts

II.

an hour later on the train
with five hours to go until Rome
i was beyond my longing
lost like yesterday
those far away days

over the water
over the Med
my sweet

resolved to get over
and get on with life
i let love slide

it was not coming back to me

III.

we clack the track
we’re in the first car
behind the great engine
powermeister of the rails

she asks if it is smoother in the last car
the one way behind
or do they get whip lash?
i don’t know
i think the ride is all in the
suspension of the car we’re in
something hanging over the steel wheels
kept us floating above sparks

IV.

some time later we stopped
still not there
i did nothing
for many minutes
then it occurred to me we weren’t moving
i thought to go out
for a smoke

i made it as far as outside our compartment
a know–it-all looking guy with dark darting eyes
who obviously thought well of himself
looked as if he worked there
was standing in the isle
he had the time
he had the exact time
said we had five minutes before the train started again
five minutes
he spoke with authority
i asked if he worked for the train

i went out, down three steps,
and began to lite a cig
the doors closed before i puffed
the train was moving
i barely got back on the train
my shirt caught in the closing doors
good thing it had a rubber seal
or i would have lost a piece of it
i put the cig out on the step
saved it for later
the know-it-all guy
was nowhere to be seen


.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

a pause

My wife’s sister is here in Rome for a visit. I will pause in this daily writing as we journey north to spend a few days near the sea.


.

wind chime

varied length tubes
left over plumbing copper
thumb flop strung in the wind
rolling drum bongs
ding songs bling

or mum sometime
that’s fine, until the line
they are hung on zings tight
bouncing in the wind
the string goes ting

unfolding hollow tones
chime resounding clings
so light clinging rings
follow plings and gongs
the song sung sounds long



.

wood chimes

above walkway bricks
wooden chime sticks
bound with cord
dangle and click
as they nick
neatly tick
or tock when blunt ends
meet slick wind flicks
trick track nicks
crick sticks in the wind



.

Monday, March 30, 2009

perspective

if you gave someone
one dollar every second
in twelve days you can give
a million bills

at the rate of placing a dollar
in someone's hand every second
to give a billion dollars
would take you thirty years




.............................

Sunday, March 29, 2009

here's to all

here is to all
the uncles and aunts
cousins, sisters and brothers
fathers and mothers
men and women of strength
and pride and layers of familial love
never worn tired of happiness
who burst into the day
dressed so well
all in their Sunday best
scarves, bright colors, hats and ties
with a handshake, warm embrace
old jokes and nicknames
to stand side by side, so tall
smiling proud laughing

we gathered together
seeing which children were taller
which old folks were slower
gave gifts for the occasion
and undying love
as dogs barked skipped in circles, nipping
while the children chased each other
all played coats off games outside until it rained
or became too dark to see
so we kept losing the ball

then inside to sit at a well set table with candles
share a fragrant delicious meal
the mothers had prepared in love
grandma made her special desert
then all partied and drank with my folks
the old friends who stopped by
and laughed together
my God how they laughed
there’d be music
dad played his violin
and they sang a well known favorite song of old times
in harmonies, how they tried
always some little cousin kid ran through,
tripped, fell, again and again until he cried

then at the end
when day was complete
in cool dark as
outside lights were turned on
and tiredness moaned
everyone frantic to gather their things
went outside for hugs and kisses again
to warm up the cars
already in anticipation of the next holiday
already longing for the next time
when we would do it all over again
and to wave goodbye

Saturday, March 28, 2009

a bank worth a lot of jingo poem

the 1893 Villa Banca Italia on Via Nationale opened its doors to the public for the first time, one day only, today must have been a thousand in line not lira just patient people maybe nuthouse patient candidates way too quiet and orderly didn’t throw a fit after an hour and a half in line before we took a step ninety-eight point six per cent Italians unreasonably orderly and quiet if you ask me especially because one at a time, two line jumpers got in by us both short guys over sixty one started with the ploy of talking to M., saying he had to use the bathroom, remember and use that as an icebreaker at your next social gathering of course i chimed in and had to tell him where he could go to find one after five minutes i realized he had established to those behind us that he was talking with us, must be with us the second line jumper, another pro with a ploy slipped in and began peering ahead intently, like he'd been doing it for a week, and stayed that way, not looking around, hardy breathing, an infractor actor playing statue, after ten minutes he was in we strategically stayed ahead of both of them and let the people behind deal with them those people acted like they didn’t notice Italians being polite? no way! they were being non confrontational okay, okay, so we went into the villa walked around a while and saw where the rich people had a fine bank palace, a lot of marble, big stairs and held meetings over a table maybe fifteen steps long the longest table i have ever seen in my life what did i do on the second floor? i had to peek through some front window curtains and look down on the street we came from then we left, end of poem

Friday, March 27, 2009

spring to chaos

spring to chaos
stuffed with energy
here to the brim, back again
carried by people
in sighing light wind
laughing bright colors
leaping over piazzas
honking from buses
blue shadow and makeup
wine served with pizza
the short-skirted on mini-stilts
tap-tap clicking down old alleys in heels
checkered cloth and waiters
bells chime the hour
to the cobblestone sun
coffee at outside tables
amid smiling faces
talk a lot

Thursday, March 26, 2009

off line

off line and fried
am always tied
to the black machine
packed with electrodes
that touch me together
with the world, it’s my life
like a fish on a string
i feel the sting
of that flash‘n’glow stop and go
bring me to life, Herr Frankenstein

been down maybe an hour
no way to tell
didn’t lose power
it’s a looking glass black hole
with road signs to hell
i really can’t wait
for now i am toast

Aces Wild

Okay, Annie, Julie, Tom, Sweet Talking Guy, you’re all in the game, aces wild. Now before we look at our cards I want to tell you thanks for the comments. You have all been helpful and I’ll try to mend my ways.

This is a highly personalized note to each and every one of you. Let’s do dinner! That’s a private joke I’ll let you in on.

One time M. and I had to vacate an apartment after only a few months tenancy because I got fired for the first and only time in my life from the last regular job I ever had. The owners of our apartment were being gracious and had us over for a glass of wine. As we were leaving they said that they’d invite us over for dinner sometime and asked if we liked fish. That was the capper, asking if we liked fish.

Of course that was the last time we ever saw or heard from them. To this day, every now and then, after someone makes a promise or invitation they are not likely to keep, M. privately says to me, “You like fish, don’t you?”

Okay, you can look at your cards now, and I’ll try to do better in my responding to your comments, but don’t bet on it. Now, one question, who dealt this mess?

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

sweeper

a street sweeper with a long wood handled straw broom
the kind witches flew on, no kidding
was down below cleaning last night’s reverie
doing half a job she was,
all the way up the alley

i did better sweeping my dad’s bar when i was eleven
without city wages or a hat and badge
and a uniform with a wide iridescent orange stripe
up the middle and over the back
so no one runs her over

sweeping cobblestones isn't easy
i'll say that for her,
a lot of cracks, you know
yet it is something to do

so she’ll go through the motions,
put in her time
make her wages
knowing her father won’t come by
to check how well she did the job

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Weather Everywhere You Look, Up and Down

everyone is talking
about rainy days these days everyday
it is raining all over the world this year
or so it seems, so they say, my uncle said

because i heard neither the planet nor God
is making any new water
maybe a dash of global warming
is increasing the humidity

so it appears there is more wet about
at the same time, don’t you know?
didn’t mean to get ultra scientific
hope i didn’t like lose you

what i am saying is: maybe the amount of water
is the same, but because there is more rain
it’s not drying up as quickly and it looks like more
i'm not selling umbrellas or anything

Monday, March 23, 2009

keep moving

moving slowly, making plans
the slate is clean
haven’t had a slate for years
that’s how to keep one clean
easier than the car with city parking
scratches, road dust
kids doing whatever they do
running in like dog packs in the night
slate is the flat rock that breaks off
and falls in the river we used to swim
strewn with plastic bag pieces now

working out details when we get to 'em
for what comes next
be prepared like the boy scouts used to
don’t know what they do now
maybe they lost money to operate too
we never had money and we did okay
volunteers and mom and dad helping
and I roll tumbled ahead into whatever
not knowing and nothing to compare it to
just going ahead, sometimes with the crowd
sometimes with my own stupid ideas
at least working came easy
even getting up early in the morning
cause it seemed the right thing to do
and I had learned how to do that
my family taught me well
it was work and sleep and eat
and right straight ahead
and still is
time's no limit
it’s all we have
best use it well

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Marathon Sunday

woke early in silence
slept deep all night
jeeze it’s quiet when the neighbors
two floors up don’t party 'til dawn
a regular Sunday start, eyes open
shower, coffee, getting ready

a morning walk and heard helicopters
checked our car in a legal parking place
no one damaged it, the side mirror still taped on
two streets over by the river we saw them
something i read in the paper two weeks ago
then of course forgot to remember

over all, how quickly a year passes
here it is again, Rome marathon
with fifteen thousand running
legions more on the side cheering encouragement
convincing spring to open up for real
while morning was cool, no one seemed to mind

certainly not those running, throwing their shirts on the street
she rejected a few than picked up a good one
from the Dunlin Marathon 2006
five minutes at home for the finish by the Coliseum on TV
then off for Chinese food, spring rolls and shrimp
saw Alex and his band jamming for coins in the piazza
still a regular Sunday in Roma

Saturday, March 21, 2009

so the fish

so the fish takes a summer job at the plant
the foreman asks who could drive a fork lift
the fish says he could because the foreman
didn’t ask who can, but who could

the fish thinks he could
so he steps forward, gets in the fork lift
and uses his mouth to turn the key
he has no feet to reach the pedals

drives out and away, jumps into the nearby river
swims down stream and never looks back
because he has no neck and can’t turn his head
to look behind even if he wanted to

he told this story to his children
and eons later ancestors evolved
grew fingers and hands and feet
and wrote this story down

Friday, March 20, 2009

bookmarks

don’t have to remember anything
can bookmark by the number
i have a few new bookmarks
and plenty already there

to organize alphabetically
sort them out, files, folders, labels
many i have never seen before
don’t know how they got there

seemed a good idea when i clicked them
then never went back except now
to clean up my bookmarks
by eliminating at least a hundred never used

if i miss them when they’re gone
can always add more
i’ll make a note to do it
if i don’t get to it today

Thursday, March 19, 2009

birds

birds on a wire
won’t fly higher
because they start from a better position

like people, it’s how well they can do
not what advantage they have
that determines how high they go

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

march bites

march bites the unwary
mouth open snapping
on low turning, moving sky cotton wisps
where winging fast birds
rise from napping
appear shot from a sling
dip low then soar far

keep jacket on, cap in hand
ready to zip up and button down
for after an hour’s pleasant sun
darker grey colors of change hover
ready to toss the covers from secret hiding
and leap, riding gusts on quick padded feet
so the next patter you hear
may be cold, hard rain drops splatter near

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

rushing waters

from a hotel room by the quick river
we see and hear white ripples
rush dancing over smalls falls
in non-stop fluid symphony
all day, all the night it goes on, and on
like eternal traffic sound
without pause or change
the same liquid white noise
over and over and over
packed splashing full in moving file
never with thought or pause,
while traffic ebbs and flows
and people are behind it
rushing fast mountain river water,
is a senseless spiral bound book
with no words on the pages
it keeps turning, turning
flipping ever forward
with no beginning or end
for ages, liquid ages

Sunday, March 15, 2009

born a fish

it’s new and i like it
born a fish
not so bad, i don’t care
food floats by all the time
don’t have to wash or decide what to wear

home life is odd
never sleep in the same bed
and today i got rushed over a falls
i know why they call ‘em that
but i didn’t get hurt

keep swimming
they say i have to watch out for fishermen
whatever that means and such
we swim in schools
but i haven’t learned much