just checking

today we rented a car, were returning it
and were ten feet from the entrance to the car rental place
on a busy street, turn signal on

twenty feet farther a group of police stood
one flagged us to pull ahead, i told meri to just turn
i waved no to the cop, we're turning in here, be sensible
"no , this is police work, drive forward and stop"

meri did what they said.
while the first cop was asking her for documents etc.
i got out of the car and asked another cop, "who's the boss?"
he was the boss

"why stop us, we were turning back there?"
"it's a car check"
"there are plenty of cars for you to check." i pointed
indeed, many others were speeding by

"where are you from?, he asked
not answering his question, i responded, "i'm a citizen of roma"
that stopped him. he didn't expect me to yell at him in italian.
and that citizen of roma stuff always works

"you know this is ridiculous," i said.
"well, this is how things are done in italy," he replied.
i said, "i know."

and that is the whole truth, your honor

the pantheon

marcus agrippa is credited for first building this ancient shrine
destroyed by fire in 80 a.d., built again in 125 a.d.
the oldest standing domed structure in rome
perhaps the best preserved building of its age in the world

erected, destroyed, rebuilt again, it's original purpose unknown
a circular building, a temple dedicated to all the gods
and for the people, who have always come to this place

the interior a perfect circle, the diameter and height are 43 meters
inside, to the center, below the circular vaulted roof opening, called the great eye, the oculus, over 8 meters in diameter
we paused to enjoy and appreciate

meri, looking through that eye to the sky, saw a lone bird fly over
and asked how i was at reading auguri, omens, signs from the heavens
i held her and smiled

a step at a time, i have no insight into what may be
we do the best we can with what we have
slowly it keeps changing, we'll wait and see

outside to the base of a pillar on the sunny side
we sat to watch for a while
with no particular purpose in mind
two small local boys played as children have for ages
on their marble slab home turf of the pantheon

taking in the bright day
amid the quiet well-ordered mirth
still aware for whatever it's worth
that these precious moments are joys
for our brief time on earth

weather roma

on a map for italy's weather there were
eighteen suns over lazio, the region of roma

oh, look at venezia, how many suns
count 'em up, there's almost twenty

i found a four percent chance of precipitation
on a clear day, repeated every hour

the amount of winds, negligible
but mentioned frequently

a chart of projections for the day
updated in two hour increments

complete - not completely
no mention of temperature

figlio di putanna, isn't the amount of clouds
and eighteen suns over roma enough for you?

unless we tell you otherwise
weather will continue as usual

iced over

a door is opened a crack
and on the back
of my neck
a cold wind pushes me
to recollect a day walking, walking
in the snow with my hands in my pockets
with my head low and nose cold
walking in the wind, in the snow
long ago

to or from somewhere
saw some friends
going to the corner store

city-old maples
fat and icy
tap their limbs upon windows
no one can let them in

puddles on the curb
round the corner
on the curve
iced over

run down the street
feet and ice meet
slide on the sheet
iced over
in the wind, in the snow
long ago

house

our house is your home
would you move out please
we just bought it

we made an offer on a house
in the country, an hour out of roma
the house needs attention
it’s all there, but not how we’d do it

what do we want? something else.
how do we want it? easy.
will we know it when we see it?
maybe, but don't bet on it.

globalization will do away with choice
one burger, one car, one house
why should we complain?
it’s less expensive to make it all the same

and why should it stop? with stem cell technology
one dog: part cat, part fish, part chicken
when you’re done playing with it
you can eat it

quick say

down at the vineria, the wine shop
from thirty feet away
i saw the waiter who has seen me several times
sitting, taking coffee with roberto at mid-day

our eyes met, he paused
recognition appeared
i raised my chin and squinted in question
he thought again and peered

he gave a quick shake no
we exchanged a few slight, rapid tilts of head and shoulders
and nods of confirmation
all was well in order

then both shrugged, turned, went about our way
this was a solid bit of communication
absolute and complete in eight seconds
here's what we had to say

i said, "hey, i know you ."
"i know you also," came his first.
"how are you doing, have you seen roberto?"
"i'm fine," he answered, "but, no, i haven't seen robert. he hasn't been around."
"okay," I said, "let him know i was looking for him if you see him."
"Will do," he answered.
"i'll be back, it was good to see you."
" yeah, you to."
"ciao."
"ciao."

colossus

after a long bus ride out to laurentina, the suburbs
near the grande raccordo annulare, the great highway ring around roma
we relented and returned on the swift metro line b

under the pyramid,
under the old chariot race site circus maximus
below the old forum to our stop

we walked and escalatored up several flights
to encounter saturday night at fiori imperiale,
mussolini's contribution in the 1930s, a boulevard
that cuts through the forum to the center of roma

the ruins of nero's home, domus aurea on the rise behind us
before, the colosseum

behold - grandiose, invincible master of ages
modern marker of the bygone empire

tall and black against the chill of february sky
that has withstood two millenia
of wind, rain, scorching heat and cold
paraded in and shouted over

blood and prayers, beasts and gladiator
lie dormant in the sands beneath

now buses pass closely by
i saw a jet liner flying toward fiumicino airport
photos are snapped and promises have been made
under the shadow of the giant

and in the twentieth century they dug
a metro line tunnel under everything

today - no problem

we bought tickets for the train
it should have been easy
but train was canceled

things happen
an hour later caught a train
that went part way

stopped, waited for the next train
found a little place to eat
lunch was good, music loud

six people in the place
music enough for forty-five
did they want us to eat or dance

enjoyed the food, ate well
prices reasonable
ears sill ringing

caught our train to the country
a fine day
came back without incident
on the bus

Meri told me the ugly old
man in the silk stockings
was a woman
almost missed our stop

just another day
no problem

most all asleep

when the city sleeps it can't hear me
creeping about in my pajamas
when standing by the window
i listen for it

only the clock moves
in absolute defiance
to the silence of the night

an appliance
and electrical wires
hum on for me
forever a subtext

a lone plane passes over
a car door closes
a voice down the street

fractions of the day
still awake
complete
even the cats are asleep

clerks quirks

why do the grocery store clerks always ask for exact change
when the cashiers at our bread store never do?

also at the grocery store if the amount is three-ninety eight
they keep two cents and start counting back change at four

if my bill comes to nine fifty-six
the cashier will pause
look slowly into the cash drawer
wiggle around in there with her fingers five or ten minutes

talk to another employee for a while
then look up with eyes glazed and dead pan face
and ask if I have fifty-six cents
every time

i notice that if i don't move at the speed of lightening
like an old west gun slinger in the movies
she is already back in the drawer making change
the question to me was just something required by law
means nothing

if this were a movie, the director would yell cut
"ok, jack, step aside. we're bringing in a stunt man to go for the exact change. this guy is really fast, incredible."

by the time i have a few coins out to help
she is handing me change
not counting it out, just putting it on the
special plastic place that was built for change
along with my receipt

the bread store rounds off one or two cents
or loads me up with one and two cent pieces
that i carry home and put in a jar
until it's too heavy to lift

i’ve never seen an italian coin wrapper
i think they use buckets and scales
where are the oxen pulling wagons on the street
and big guys riding shot gun

ever since that guy invented the
drop ceilings that are sold all over the world
everyone is looking for another thing that can make a billion bucks and be used everywhere
that's what those change holders are at checkout counters

i expect to see those grocery clerks in their spare time
on the corner asking for change
just to keep in practice

via cappellari

 

our little apartment building dates from 1500
the arch was erected about 1300
my source is an architectural historian
from john cabot here in roma

on the wall under the arch
is a sign on the wall inscribed in Latin on a marble slab
dated 1733

it says not to discard refuse under the arch
offenders risk monetary fine
and corporeal punishment

the city of Roma now puts
our refuse cans under the arch

abramo & zakaria

abramo is one of the waiters
he's served us several times
back by the wood oven is zakaria the older egyptian cook
i asked his name a year or two ago
complimenting him for the pizza he makes so well

both have biblical names
here in italy it used to be the law
you had to name your child after a saint
my god, now they are putting chips in people

roma is tough, they endure with patience
what desires have they for the twilight called tomorrow
we greet them, chat little, must not slow them down
they work long hours not getting wealthy

i respect these friendly fellows of another world
here colliding asteroids in city space, bump and go
we eat and go, countless tourists hardly see them
they are but a necessary convenience

zakaria said hi to me the other day at the hardware store
i didn't recognize him out place, without his cooking whites
his little hat. his pizzas are the best you know
why are egyptian cooks often the best for italian pizza

abramo is youthful, slight and quick
he will bend in the winds of time, see many changes
possessed with good spirit and force
god bless his energy

we don't look over, around or through these two
they, as we, are seeking acceptance

mickey rooney

we didn't buy tickets right away
we heard he was going to be at
the state theater in sandusky, ohio

big deal, who cares, he's old
then we read it was his birthday
and we started talking about it

the night of the performance
we were pumped
went there and bought
last-minute, top balcony back, the last seats

and we knew it would happen
just as we said, the last thing in the performance
they wheeled out cake and the music began
we stood, leaned back our head, smiled

and loudly joined with everyone in the theater
and it bounced off the ceiling
filled up each row and ran down the street
that's why we went, and what we got

how many times in your life do you
get to do that?
we always will remember the night
we sang happy birthday mickey rooney

porta blu

Alberto leads the game
He’s the core, The master who created the space
sets the rules and the pace at
his school for art

press the button, enter the place
all those seeking to climb to new lights in abstraction
gather amid music and fine company to treasure black chalk lines
or brush a bit of paint as they work
styled just right
under white light
below the streets of roma

an artist’s life is lived in experiment, chance and betterment
it only appears as chaos
until one gets the hang of it
and learns to cope with what you’ve got

time-out comes with tea and cookies
a diversion for the learned still learning new ways
among contented faces

then back to work
forgetting time until it calls
to wrap the lion heart of the artist in silence deep
where it aches to get back out
the next time
here under the street
at Porta Blu

coincidence saves time

i didn’t make it snow
he could have told me no
didn’t drive it very far
when i wrecked my brother’s car

i need someone to blame
the car will never be the same
it was easy what I did
i braked on ice and slid

it could have been a garbage can
but no, I slid into his insurance man
not just the man, he was in his car
you know how coincidences are

meri's idea

print it on clothes, on your car and on your cat
“The world needs more”

line ‘em up and fill it to overflow
look below and get the rest of it

no need counting anything
just take it all, keep loading

when you’re pumping gas – don’t stop
don’t save anything, use it all
why do you think there are super-stores?

fill me, thrill me, bill me later
high speed loop de loop
counterfeit the brand names
withdraw it all

several credit cards will help
jam it, damn it
limits are made to be broken
what are records for?

market analysis

holy catfish the markets diving
and won’t come up for air
all your trouble is like a bubble
when it pops sit back and stare

no need to hurry if you want to worry
you’ve got the time to spare
but hold that frown, cause it’s going down
every stinking where

some history

first the sumerians began to write
then envelopes with glue came about after they found
a dead horse stuck to the sidewalk

then the post office made stamps
more horses turned up missing

when mail started getting lost
they blamed it on the pony express
and raised the price of stamps

they tried morse code, radio, town criers, tv and computers
not in that order
but letters and envelopes wouldn’t go away
hallmark was happy
and the price of stamps went up

bulk rates for advertisers were invented
and immediately the rates went down
dit-dit-dit,dah-dah-dah.dit-dit-dit

when you wash socks

when you wash socks
be sure to count them
pair them up
do not count them in the dirty laundry
it is not advised

but you damn well better line up your ducks
excuse me, socks, when you take them out of the dryer
and try not to stare at the dryer spinning

you heard about crazy kids climbing into dryers
and getting spun nuts – well I want to warn you
the same thing is true
about staring at spinning dryers
it can spin you nuts, bro!

so the moral of this is to pair up your socks
immediately after taking them out of the dryer.
Or else

meri drove

It rained and thundered on and off in the early morning. First we’d call it off, then it’d quit raining and it was on again. We had rented a car on line, just for the day, and finally decided to take a bus to the Termini and get our car.

Fine. We showed up at the Termini and they had no knowledge of our reservation. No trace, no how, no car, no way, no shit!

At the next counter, three inches away a polite girl for another company had a car and a good price. We were on our way. Meri drove us around Sabina.
More about Sabina at another time.

When we got the car back, we went down to the office, Meri used the bathroom while I had to go back up to the fourth floor of the parking lot and drop off the car keys, put them in a slot in a box. I thought it was a good trick just finding the box and figuring out that was where the keys are dropped.

When I came back down, I nodded toward the bathroom and the guy behind the glass slipped me a metal door handle with a square block on it that fit where the door handle goes. I have taken a few door handles apart so I knew what the thing he gave me was for. How do others do it?

Later, on the way out, I asked the guy behind the glass if tourists had difficulties. Yes, with the door handle, but finding a gas station and getting the car back to the rental place also. He said the Italians have trouble. Even the people that work there have trouble getting to work. Nothing is easy for anybody, ever.

“Yeah, but Roma is bella,” I told him. We laughed.

writing

writing’s a bit
like digging a pit
you have to know
how deep to go

and what do you do
when that work is through?
You cover that lover
and start on another

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

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.

the true cross

constantio teotedesco of romania/transylvania

was applying guma laca to an old piece of furniture

and making it shine like a collector’s garage-kept ’57 buick

this other guy was making in-laid wooden clothes hangers

and i asked why

he said he was doing it for the fun of it

cause no one buys them

i asked his name

and he said Cruccia

the italian word for clothes hanger

i asked if he was joking

he thought i wanted the name of the thing he was making

and i finally got his real name, eugenio

i wasn’t sure if he was kidding

because it sounds like the italian word for genius

but is eugene

it’s tough being a foreigner

passing through, among friends

in a little workshop in roma

a plate engraving (incisione)

half a haze
half a sun
the early morning fisherman

secret love

i love clocks

they keep on ticking

and isn’t it amazing

time doesn’t exist

oh, time is here, we made it so

and you’d better not be late

cause that’s bad,

I know, I know

despite universal laws and regulations

I like clocks anyway

every time, anytime

cause they keep ticking and ticking

wealth revealed

today i went through my sock drawer

the strays and stragglers were gathered

my wife put them together

she is good to me

of course, i could have done the deed

but she is so much more skilled.

it is her lot in life

to be thorough until, at last, there is completion

i now have seventeen pair of clean socks

and more in the dirty clothes

you may as well know me now as i am

the john paul getty of socks

laboratorio

the painting is of my lab in ohio.
from my lab, looking out.
that's our 12 year old geo in the reflection
50 miles to the gallon
good ole geoie

below your will find the objects from the bessans photo blown up. if i could run picassa any better they'd be big as a house, but i couldn't transfer them larger. take it from me, they don't look like smudges on the camera lens. they are three cornered things put together to form different shapes.
smudge my butt, that's what i meant to say to my contact with expert credentials.

back to the painting. it's acrylic on canvas.
i'm putting together a web site. let's say several of us are.
not to sell art or poetry, but to put it out there, cause i think it is time for the world to enjoy things, to appreciate the beauty in the world.

i live in rome most of the year
even here the new age has overrun the beauty of the ages
i have hope the wheel keeps turning
and like a wave there are highs and lows

give all to love
patiently trod
smile when you can
do the best you can

sun goes up
sun goes down
the good times
will come around

so now a guy calls - just now
he found my name in the rome phone book
because he found a telecomando, or a device to open a gate
it had my last name and the first three numbers of my voip phone on it

but it is a device to open a gate and i don't have a gate
and my last name is the only one like it, of the six million names in roma
he found me, but it wasn't my thing he found
my last name is Sender and it could mean the device was a sender

the numbers?
incomplete, but they almost meant something to me

like the story of roma
incomplete
and i'm not sure what it means to me
maybe that's why i'm still here

Bessans, France click on pic for larger view

Bessans, France

I was going through digital photos from two or three years ago and emailed this one to a

friend. "This is good, Walter. Most interesting. Enlarge the photo and look carefully. Do tell me,

you were there, what are those two things in the sky?" I wrote.

He replied, "Birds."

Then I saw a third thing in the sky and a possible fourth, above and to the right of the one on

the left. The entire file contained about a hundred photos, both indoors and out. I checked

them all again. This was the only one with smudges that caught my attention.


After a short while my friend wrote again, "Winter. Where do these pictures come from?"

I wrote back, "I think you took it. It was on a cd you sent me from your trip to Bessans,"

Then I knew he had accidentally photographed swamp gas.

metal plate engraving of via dei cappellari

the return of blackie

Beginning in the spring we have a lot of birds in our yard. My wife likes to keep the bird bath clean for them. The cardinals have their own bath they prefer to use, while the other birds use the community bath. There are robins, sparrows, doves, starlings, cardinals and blackbirds. We bought peanuts for ourselves and threw a few to the birds because it seemed the friendly thing to do.

While other birds didn’t pay much attention, one black bird in particular loved the peanuts. After just a few days it was apparent that the free peanuts got to be a habit for this black bird. He’d come around everyday at the same place for a tasty peanut. Only a short while later we had named him Blackie, our favorite bird.

It would have been nice to have a colorful cardinal, or even a blue jay as a favorite, but the other birds remained aloof. The best we could attract was our new feathered pal, the solo blackbird

That summer a lot of birds came and went through our yard, but only Blackie was a regular that we could identify. The robins had children and hung around teaching them to dig for worms, and the doves walked around in pairs. But, Blackie made a noise to attract our attention. We talked to him and he would fly in for his peanut.

In the fall, most birds migrate south for the winter. Only the illusive cardinals stay year round.

One day The following summer, when my wife was working on the side of the house she heard a black bird squawk. She looked up and said, “Blackie, is that you?” It was. She went around to the other side of the house where we used to feed him and he followed, and took up his usual position at a particular spot on our fence and waited for his peanut.

My wife and I were happy to see the old wanderer and enjoyed the surprise visit for a second year. Through out the summer Blackie was a regular, and became friendlier and calmer with our presence.

The third summer he returned again. Now he would fly to our back porch and I’d sit in a chair and put a peanut on the small table and he’d hop onto it and take his peanut. Now we had a pet.

By the end of that summer he was taking peanuts from my hand, still a wild bird, but happy to play the routine of entertaining us for his peanut.

Most every morning Blackie would be there. We’d look out and see him on the fence, and as soon as we came out with the peanuts he’d fly over and take one.

Many blackbirds were living in a wild an area a mile south of our home. Each morning they’d fly over and head to the farmers corn field where they’d feast for the day, then return in the evening.

The following year the farmers had complained and the city burned the wild area where the birds rousted. No longer did we have flocks of black birds passing over head. Blackie had moved on with his friends.

May rushed by with no sign of him, we wondered if he died, relocated with the others, or went off to make a family. Then in June he returned, and this time he brought a younger bird with him. We called it Blackie Junior. This was the fourth year in a row for Blackie on our fence. The same spot, the same routine of squawking and waiting for his peanut. Unbelievable, four years in a row we had Blackie as a guest. We only saw him a few days that year. His son never a taste for a peanut.

The fifth year there were even fewer birds around. May and June passed without a sign of him. Then at the end of July, when we had all but given up hope, he returned.

It was a quick stop. He must have been living farther away, but he made his appearance, did the squawks and the peanut grabbing routine, then flew back to the fence. I swear he looked back at us before he flew off, and that was it for Blackie’s visits.

We still look for him, or son of Blackie, but now he is only a pleasant memory, yet we still keep our peanuts ready just in case.

windy day
gulls coming in
off the lake
blowing in
gliding high
and sideways

The world is for the young

If you can read this

You’re not young