Why

I am not going to discuss the hurricane that just rode along the East Coast.  The media did more then enough
hype.  Yes, there were places and people that were hurt and devastated, as I am not taking this lightly.
I am here today to discuss why bad things happen and continue to happen to some superlative human beings.

My friend and sister Barbara  is kind, sweet, just an all around terrific person. 
Barbara is not my sister through blood, but through a spiritual bond of friendship.
As some of us know sisters do not have to be born to the same mother we share. Bad things keep happening to them and their family and I am sick of it!  This weekend Barbara's husband lost his father unexpectedly.    When a family member is sick and ailing going in and out of hospitals, it is no surprise what is waiting around the corner.  Death is never easy, but when it is inevitable, it can be more expected and prepared for.
In some cases, family members pray for the death of their family member, as they will no longer suffer.
This incident blew the family out of the water.

Then on Sunday, due to the hurricane, a tree fell on their home of nearly 20 years.  Where four children, three girls and one boy grew to fine adults.  My girlfriend and her husband grudgingly at the time,moved from Queens to Long Island.  As with all change it can be initially difficult.  At the time the parents felt this was the best decision for their growing family, as the old neighborhood was no longer a place to raise children safely.
As time tells all tales, it was the best choice and they never looked back.
When I heard of this, I wanted to scream and scream and scream.  You do get the picture!!
WHY!!  Why do good people have bad things happen to them. 
I do know the why, but most people do not want to hear, nor would they understand, and I can not blame them.

I do thank God that no one in the home was hurt and yes, that is good news.  First the unexpected death, then the damaged home within 24 hours. 
I ask all that read this, to please say a special prayer to God or who ever you place your hands in for comfort.  Pray for joy and peace to enter this home and never leave.  They have had enough!
Thank you to all that spent the time to pause and say a special prayer for this wonderful family.

Walk With Me by the Water

Walk with me by the water as we reflect yesterday

The path is a bit thinner, as our bodies thicken

Our hands when they touch transparent and cold

But our hearts are alive with life

Walk with me by the water; don’t be frightened by what we see

A couple that is now one

Wrinkles of wisdom artfully sketch our canvas

Reflective memories bring tears

Walk with me by the water with hopes and joy

As we watch our family grow

Children bring grandchildren, waxing and waning just like the moon

Welcoming the etching of life

Walk with me by the water

Walk with me in life

Walk with me for eternity

As we move through all that is heaven

Those Monsters Still Haunt

A bottle of bourbon slipped from fingers

Gurgling audibly escaping through parched lips

Thrown through a glass window only to escape on the other side

The young girl ran from institution of education

It was heard even at old age, school was not for her

Out of breath, but still running, a Victorian home was found

There were sounds that chill the bone

A silhouette of a man that turned hair to pallid grey

A twist of the body found him vanished

At least she was not naked

But the dam phone was gone

Managed to borrow one from the sky

The mother was home, but the front door was always closed

Those sounds came back to haunt her

Explanation on the waking morning remained mysterious

Monsters were still pursuing the old lady

Now the answers were popping as new buds greeted the rain

Silver cord pulled so abruptly causing a tumbling effect

There were beads of sweat that decorated the temple

Give me a second to compose myself

The answer was always there

Taking a deep breath, she sighed

The Twinies

Many full moons ago our fore fathers..  Only kidding.  No seriously, when I was a child our cousins Barbara and Theresa, the twinies,  would visit once a week, or my family would go visit there family.
They were family on my fathers side, in fact, Matty Boy's (my dad) sisters family.

In the sixties, this was common practice.  Family unit still existed unlike present times.  I am an Italian descendant and in Italian families, visiting your relatives once or twice a week was common practice.
Grandma would stir sauce over the stove for hours.  Her meatballs would fall apart. 
I could still taste and smell the intoxicating aroma.  When you woke up on a Sunday morning, the whole neighborhood would reek of gravy (tomato sauce) and roast beef.  As I am writing, I can so easily go back in time and still smell that fabulous fragrance.

This week I was propelled back in time and I am desperately trying to stay there or at least lets meet half way.  The twinies and I got together Tuesday for an all day visit. 
Twice a year we try to make a special get together.  When we come together, all time stands still.
We are transported back in time and are little girls again, but this time with boobies and hormonal disorders.
Oh well, I guess you can't have it all.  Anyway getting back on track, we do not skip a beat.  Forty years ago now belongs to the present and we continue where we left off.

We can talk and do talk for hours on end.  Sometimes we get sentimental and cry, but the crying only brings us smiles.  They are good memories.  They make such a brat out of me when we go out.  Barbara and Theresa spoil me rotten!!  I am so grateful for the many gifts they give me.  Gifts are not only physical, but  are also from the heart and soul and those are the best souvenirs a human being can give!

I stand here today and everyday, a grateful person.  Life at times does not give us cotton candy and ponies,
so embrace the good moments and hold as firmly as you can.  Tuck it away for tomorrow, for when the dark arrives, the light will soon come peeking around the corner.   If we allow yesterday's celebrations to shine forth, life can be just a bit more pleasant.
What I am trying to say is bring the good forward and leave the bad behind.  If we practice this, life will seem a bit easier!

Land of Freedom

It is evening and I am free

Realization of flight is quit me

The home was blue and green, eye candy of the abodes

Curious George had nothing on me for I was the blue ribbon winner

Sailing back, eyes bugging out as childhood cartoon

The home was my fantasy

Colors so vivid making me cry and Tyler the bulldog came to greet

Was I in a cathedral, because there is no end to the ceiling?

Now an understanding came to my brain

Marvelous seashells with a vortex of lines

Bleached white gave a sanitized look lending esthetics to the home

I gasped at the sight, but just then….

   Did she see me? 

      The woman who owns the home

As I flew out towards the door, she smiled

Saying salutations to a small bull dog

Flying back to my land raining like every eve

Memories

Traveling, can’t find my way, the great metropolitan

Heads upon billows as twins dine with lady of harbor

Train brings fright, loneliness, faces of the unappealing

Does any one know I have to travel alone

Lost in a place don’t want to be

Looking up at the sky, the angels they help find

Asking man, woman, speaking in monotone they sleep among ashes

Longing for mother and her doe

Playing part in a horror tale, her acting days are through

Want to go home, and limbo is my new

Cascade of tears form beautiful lace patterns

Cold slaps of concrete pave the way for her

Prayers are heard held tight bringing comfort to dark

Some find tranquility, feeling temperatures of asphalt remain

Cherubs scatter pearls comforting ocean

Rest will welcome tired

Who stood before, eternally protect sleeping angels

Vestiges of souls mothers will embrace

Tales of the Race

The check is in the mail

So I can’t go out for the sale

I’ve waited all week

For someone to say

The check is in the mail

A woman is late

With her period to date

Months go by

Boy does she cry

The oven is baking

Cause there is something mak’in

Wake up and smell the bacon

That ain’t no pig in the oven

You are the sun

You are the moon

I can’t go on

Without you I will die

Around the corner comes a skirt

Silk stockings and stiletto shoes

I need her

I want her

Now where was I

I need her

I want her

Promises not to fib any more

Heard this time in and time out

Don’t fill my ears with torture

Cause I finally done with the rat race

So I sit in my corner

As I act like a mourner

Waiting for time to end

Cause I’m done with the human race

Why I Write Poetry

• I can not answer for other poets, but I can tell you why I write poetry.
My gift started late in life. One day I was watching a commercial and the word IT was shown in different ways. All of a sudden, out of know where, words, or should I say a poem was going off in my head. I ran to get a piece of paper and wrote as fast as the words came. The next day for two weeks, poems were literally exploding in my head.
I could not keep up with it. In fact I asked that they stop for a while. I was getting a headache! Who I was talking to did not matter. I felt like I was going insane!

At this point in time I wrote 50 poems in two weeks. I have never read nor wrote poetry in my life. Was not the least bit interested at the time.
I was confused at why this was happening, but as time went by, I understood the why.
Poetry is a gift given to me to not only share with the world, but to dislodge old, crusty, stuck poison within.
My poetry is based on life's experience, dreams, and visions. Each time a poem is written, I reflect on its subject with a deep understanding that goes into my core.
The problem may still exist, but now I have an understanding, and because of the understanding, I can now deal with it and get rid of my old luggage.

I now have a love that goes deep for poetry. There is a gratitude for this great gift. Yes, I would love to become an author of poetry, but right now I am enjoying life with a great understanding far beyond most. I also wish not to forget the lovely people I have met through poetry.

Trembling in the Wind

When you think the trees are dead, they surprise us once again

When the ocean meets the shore a new world greets

When the children’s laughter dies, does life still carry on

When suffocation replaces the life we knew, do we turn blue

When we throw poison in the wind expect to be poisoned slowly

When all is dark, she sits trembling in the wind

If she is given another chance, will it be her last

If a mother gives her love, will love give to her

If heaven reveals its beauty, do we depart prematurely

If the owl loses its way, do we lose ours

If most agree it’s fabulous, why do most agree it is

She sways high up in the boughs trembling in the wind

Then the day arrives and all is fine

Then she sleeps so soundly

Then her family cries

Then her family dies

Then she is carried away trailing their billowy splendor

Then we are left here trembling in the wind

Morning Conversation

Silence of morning played, but as usual activity of familiar nature launched its play

Mention of disaster droned on as  hair on arms stood at attention

A surprised individual was in shock as he announced question

She could not recall any dream or vision that matched this day’s disaster

As the sun positioned itself higher and higher, there was a comfort level
Recollection of the past evening conquered original thought

Then a memory of her sister brought something into light

There was a terrible site of bricks and mortar that lay dead in the streets

The next block was no block it all seem the same

She waited for a bus that never was

She realized there was no way out

There was not a soul out except her and her sister

Then a thought of fright came to her sense of blight

Was this the original question that I so quickly brushed off like a flea?

Was this vision something completely different?

Will there show another face?

Tonight starts beginning of something new

Will the stars shine bright; please tell me
Every night she plays the same game

Death, destruction, birth, and disfigurement

Why was this given to her?

Some questions cannot be answered

Here we go again praying for something good

There was a slight smell of floral

Drifting deeper and deeper in the land that she adores

It was morning again

Through the venetian blinds glints of sun
Tiny particles riding down the rays

Could not recall the nights magic

Throwing off the blankets she smiled

Morning was like all the rest, mindless and calm

Silence repeated the morning causing meditative state of mind

A thought of the evening came to psyche

This time she decided to stomp the eerie crawly creature

The best decision she made in a very long time

Morning and the rest of the day was glorious

If this could be every day
Beautiful wrapping paper only to look at
She decided very quickly that beauty is better when we have freedom to explore