LOVE What is love, and endless search - our whole life long. And with this love; demands a quest to master - it right or wrong. Love, something we cannot buy, though zealous souls often try. What is love, a craving desire to belong. Love, the world’s greatest, - oldest torch song. And in this love, we find bliss, fulfillment, lust, pain and sorrow. Yet, there’s still a thin line - between love and hate, shattering tomorrow. What is love, a molding, shaping, creativity of something to last forever. Yet, the reality is that - it’s often temporary, filled with resentment, broken dreams and - suppression amongst one another. This thing called love, must we pay dues and - owe up to it? God knows until were content, we’ll kill and die for it. No one can outwit or - surpass father time. Is there happiness without love? Is there destiny without love? Married we need not be - if our vows portray greed, power, possession, these - be mere shadows of iniquity. 80
Those truly, deeply in love - are experiencing simply, the essence of our creed. The powers that be can’t rectify the injustice or - absence of divine love amidst brutality of war. Life isn’t meant to imprison - us with solitude. Is love meant only for the - lucky or the good? What is love, we see it in a baby’s precious little eyes. We hear it in so many - people’s laughter, that we laugh ‘til we cry. We feel it when our - ailing seniors die. What is love? Will we ever know! So many questions, so little answers. Yet, only love can help us - grow happier together forever. I humbly submit, my priceless antidote. Written is this anecdote - ‘Message in the bottle’ to you … “Stars, moon, sunshine, sand, ocean, music, peace - and love is unconditional.” DEFEAT You came close to passing the S.A.T.s with a 4.0 average, 81
except you’re down - by five points. She was prettier and - got the managerial job you long deserved. You’ve been in love - with him for years, lived right around - the corner from him, but, he never noticed you. Your hometown can’t win - a Superbowl, or Stanley cup, and that full-figured body - you wanted in your teens, fills out in the wrong - places now that you’re older. Are you feeling a sense of defeat? It’s O.K. keep trying harder - to succeed, I am. HE HAS MY NUMBER I listen attentively as he pours out - his heart about how he still loves her, but is tired of - the chaos and uncertainty of their relationship. He misses and loves - his daughter. She looks just like him. We have much in common. I could be good to him. He could appreciate me. But, he loves her, - yet needs me. I smile unselfishly. He needs a pleasant - 82
soft and warm smile. I continue listening - to his gut feelings ‘bout how he loves. The bar is closing now. I trepidate and look away. We feel each others energy. Our spirits have spoken out loud. Will he be with me; yet think of her, - See her face? We don’t leave together. But, in the future - if and when he’s free, he has my number. JUNE 12TH, 1999 ( BUFFALO, NY ) It’s June 12th, 1999, mid-summer - Buffalo, NY. It’s hotter than hell, and there’s pandemonium - in the city. People are busier - than a group of witches in the cellar cooking up - a new brew. Incidentally, the only - thing brewing are the gallons of beer in - people’s tummy as they celebrate the success - of the Sabres entry into the Stanley Cup Playoffs. It is the third of - four games during this season’s hysteria and - one momentum fills the air, 83
Go Sabres go! Win the Stanley Cup - is what they all cheer. THE GREENHOUSE 5/90 ( ST. THOMAS, USVI - IN MEMORY OF ROB ) Like a beautiful poem that flows from your mind, and your heart naturally - without force; these are sincere words and feelings of respect - and love I felt towards you Rob the first time we met. The obstacles that were present cannot obliterate - the memories I have of the warmth in - your eyes or your gentle ways. Soothing and inspiring - were they all the while you were near. It made me feel whole again. You and your band - were homeward bound, and I was in transition - of making changes in my life. But, each time you - looked into my eyes, I felt like I was - falling in love again, for the first time. Like beautiful poetry - and beautiful music, Rob, you left me feeling - rejuvenated, alive and determined to go onward. 84
FAMILY (II) Why does it always seem as if we’re constantly reminiscing about the - good times of the past, about small, simple things - in life that made us happy continually. About the joys, sorrows, laughter, tears of just being surrounded by - loved ones, friends and family. Things priceless and - unconquerable yesterday, though today they’re - things mundane in this now ever ongoing processed - world of machinery, technology. Things that are of some - importance, endurance, but lacking the strength, durability and confidence - that only loved ones, friends, and family can offer; when you, the greatest - piece of machinery on earth breaks down. My experiences are proof - that the family that prays together, still stays together. DREAM PHENOMENA Dreams magnificent, dreams great and small. Only God knows the phenomena and power of their mysteries - one and all. So we go to sleep, blanketing our dreams - in the silence of that heavenly peace. And when we awake - 85
to analyze those dreams; accepting and surrendering, unto the sacred knowledge hidden deeply that God - blessed us with through the journeys in our sleep. And we’ll signify the mysteries - of those dreams that will later reflect, in our children’s lives. NAIVETE You heard about being in love, but you’re not sure - what it is, what it means. You only know that you desire - to love someone so deeply, as you try to mastermind - a plan to make it last forever. Yet, you fear deep inside, that forever is somewhat - a myth, an illusion. But filled with - anxiety and beauty, you set both feet forward, it’s do or die. You expect the best, but fear the worst. Yet, open-mindedly you - trust wholeheartedly, and respect that time will - develop and deliver a special love to you - shield and anchored, with strength and - cultivated with purity, honesty and endured by divinity - With age ‘til death. 86
And so you grow old, your love is sage, - but you continue to search for reality. BUFFALO WEATHER Mid-January, it’s winter. I’m freezing - my fanny off. It’s hypothermia - all the way. Mid-June, it’s summer. I’m sweating - my fanny off. I incinerate - all the way. The winters are - long, cold. The summers are - short, hot. There’s no happy medium. You can never - get used to it. That’s Buffalo weather. PERSONALITY Some say my eyes, smile, and well being are my - best features. And I’ve come to - terms with myself, so, this is true. ‘Cause it’s obvious - I don’t have big boobies, 87
or big fanny or legs. I simply gain weight - in the wrong places. But, at forty-two; - it’s too late for self centered vanity. And I refuse to purchase - synthetic bodily parts. Quite frankly, I can’t afford them. Yet, every woman contributes - to the world her special touch of perfection. But some women have all the simplicities - yet, their characters suck. I truly believe personality rules. WORRISOME There’s an old wizened man who lives up the hill. He peers through his favorite - window on the side of the house. He’s very frail, very poor, very long bearded and gray. But, he’s kind, generous, appreciates his life - and is happy. There’s a young less intellectual man who lives down the hill. He sneers through his favorite - window from the front of the house. He’s ambitious to set - sail for sure. He’s very rich, very short-fused by simple daily trivialities. He’s nice but, coy, sometimes selfish, full of misery and not always - appreciative of his life. Because he worries. 88
SHADES OF YOU The years have taken flight life's golden era of youth has conquered - my dreams, my soul but not my spirit entirely And as my world shifts from day to night some of you still coexist in my heart forever - your names unimportant, but know I remember you sincerely And I see you all through my eyes, much wiser now Everything you have taught me shines through your eyes somehow - the loves, the hates, the fears, the truths, the sins, the lies, I take a bow But I believe it's all meaningful in a magical way It helps me to survive each and everyday I can't change my fate, but these few words I will say... Shades of you - in the sunlight from the heavens above in the stars and moonlight as lovers gaze upon in the tall, green wavering blades of grass in the morning dew on butterfly wings and beautiful flower gardens I trespass Shades of you - in the uncertainty of a baby's cry in the weeping willow tree that seems to smile in the rain, snow, through the rustling winds that call - out to the seafarers; beware storm ahead at nightfall Shades of you - in all of mother nature's creatures big and small in every traverse, in a world unchanging - 'cept some physical progress here and there, yet staggering towards peace Shades of you – I'm happy to live to share this with you all and set the verse while not waging - your world, my world, this world's past, present, or future... against anything, anyone, rich, poor, the famed, defamed, living or deceased. Shades of you - I thank you for finally letting me be me, and you simply learning to just be you. 89
REAR VIEW MIRROR Once again I’ve had a pleasant - evening with him. The music and mood was just right. Our eyes locked, the silence emotional; but, did he understand - anything I said all night. Will there be a next time? And he drops me - off at the house, then hesitates. He beeps the horn I look back swiftly - at him scurrying off, and can see his - anticipation through the rear view mirror … contemplating on returning to devour me. 90
I LISTEN I turn on the radio and listen to hear whether his song - is played and becomes a hit. I listen to become - mesmerized by his music and whether his lyrics contain - my name refrained. As he once conveyed - a picture of him and I together. But it was a thought delayed - like when a bad storm is evident. Yes, his career wasn’t definite - though he’s out there adjusting. His music means everything to him. He must win - so I listen for his songs, so I can sing along hoping - his love’s still strong. Hoping he’ll call out my name. Hoping his songs remain - the same and not only in vain for financial gain. OFTEN TIME Often time I’m - misunderstood when I speak. Often time I - don’t have time, to write a million words to account for words - heard without clarity. I hate redundancy, yet this is no parody. Listen carefully, I repeat! 91
Don’t deride - what my heart feels inside. I’ll only reiterate until my message is complete - and people will remember me for being forthright. THE OTHER WOMAN You can spot him first from afar, you can be desperately - lonely for sure. You can long for him, fall in love with him, want him, need him - and mean it until he’s yours. But as long as - you’re the other woman, not the one he saw first, the one he dreamt of - and lusted for and, put high on a pedestal - like some dazzling superstar, consider yourself an outsider - with great intentions, and expectations. Though I have to mention - you’re still a sucker, holding on to infatuation - ‘cause he belongs to her. You don’t care, never cared - but, he’ll go back to her, track her down like a hound. Never leave her - ‘til he’s finally done with her. ‘Til she means nothing - more to him but a memory. And you the other woman - remain in his mind a fantasy, and doesn’t stand a chance - 92
of picking up the pieces of his love until it’s definitely - over between them two. THE TWO WORLDS ( 1991 ) Reddish hair, freckled face, chubby and Canadian. But I was more interested in finishing my book - than conversing with him. I looked up and - there they were, him and his friend, carefully strolling by. I don’t remember his name, but I knew there - was something interesting ‘bout this guy and - not ‘cause he wasn’t shy, not ‘cause he was younger than I, but ‘cause he had - beautiful eyes, a beautiful smile - and he was deaf. Yes, a deaf mute - and wanted just to sit, and talk to me for awhile. He was knowledgeable, and was able to mumble some of his words clearly. My God! You see - I’ve never spoken to a deaf mute before. I wasn’t nervous but, always wanted to take - a course in sign language. One day I will for sure. We became friendly. 93
One day I accompanied him to a party. He assured me I’d fit in, blend in easily and feel - comfortable around the others. It was an experience for me. There was singing, dancing, drinking, acting and playing joyfully. Like society’s preconceived - picture of normality. Sign language here, there, everywhere. I learnt a few words myself. But, there were moments of solitude - when I sat in the corner, and began to brood. Could it be that even mutes - were happier than me? Me, whose doing everything - right in regularity. What’s their secret! Suddenly my red-headed friend became drunk and nasty. What a sight to see, 94
a drunken mute mumbling, staggering, wobbling near me. Releasing his anger, misery - and crying childishly. I tolerated him the entire evening. But, it was overbearing. He revealed bits and pieces - of family infidelity. He mumbled and grumbled - with fits of temper. Obviously, he’s tormented inside. He’s bitter, unhappy, stubborn, and refuses to admit his - insecurities in life. I watched sadly, as everyone became disgruntled, as they spoke a language - I couldn’t totally understand. They tried to console him. I myself, didn’t condone him, just pitied him. Wanting to restore his - hope and faith in himself, I thrust out my arms to help - him regain his composure. I murmured I was still his friend. Others aided in settling - him down in a cab. An evening that should’ve been beautiful and resplendent, - became heavy hearted and despondent. A world that should’ve - opened up new horizons for me, suddenly reminded me of my - old world with carelessness, and stupid casualties. My red-headed friend - went home highly intoxicated, but, nevertheless in-alienated - from the world he knew, 95
so true to his heart. I went home educated - ‘bout the two worlds, I didn’t know were - one and the same. English and mute, and I proclaim - there’s no shame that both worlds - are still dear to my heart. ALL MY MEN All my men; and I tried - to love them so deeply. And many times - I loved them in vain. These days it isn’t - easy securing a man. Yet, I love them so dearly, and through my experiences - my heart is worn and lame. Their kisses sweet, not secure. I craved for longevity to endure. I tasted the salt of - their skin with pride. But deep inside they - quake like little boys. All my men; I wanted to drink - from their chalice, and feel their spirit. I wanted to treat them as kings - and glorify in their merit. But, when they hurt me - I took the bruises gracefully. And the pain - is like any pain, 96
it bares no surprises. All my men; I reach out to them - as they embrace me. But their cowardly - inhibitions scare them, as their love is frightened - by insecurity. And in my arms, they become mere - phantoms and illusions of ecstasy. There’s nothing new about - all my men. They’re born knowing - how to take, they’re still learning - how to give. And so I love, breathe and go on, believing in all my men - and praying one day, one of them will become my night and shining armor - rescuing me on his stallion. I’M NOT THAT KIND OF BLONDE I don’t need to - disguise myself with the two - faces of Eve to get where I want, and what I want in life. Yet, I could if I had to - but, I’m not that kind of blonde. I don’t need to - act superficial and put on airs to - 97
be the center of attention. Yet, I could if I had to - but, I’m not that kind of blonde. I attract attention naturally. I don’t need to - lead all the time, and boss my men - and friends around. I don’t want to be - bossed around either. Though I could be - a bossy bitch, if I had to - but, I’m not that kind of blonde. Tons of money could - make me partially happy. But I like to - get high on life, that’s my drug. I could be a - bitchy mother, lover and, wife if I had to – but, I’m not that kind of blonde. I wanna be loved, respected and needed in life. The blondes that supercede me, are powerful, rich and obviously - bleached, most of them, but, not necessarily happy. I could be powerful, rich, and bored if I had to - but, I chose to be happy, sensual and accepted. This blonde has her - stuff in gear and pulls, her own weight and - wants to be remembered as being sincere, wise - and full of love. 98
FILM NOIR The moon is beautiful, bright, and full. And the night is - clear, crisp and cold. It is New Year’s Eve!. A myriad of people everywhere. Noise makers, alluring men, and women’s sensual perfume - ablaze the atmosphere. Frantic, ecstatic, frenzy, - debonair and casual. Each individual tuned - to the momentum of the melody of love - that pervades the air. Your nemesis is to - find that special person to kiss and birth the new year. All eyes open wide - and full of ecstasy. I feel it in the atmosphere. New Year’s Eve!- an astronomical fantasy. Bright lights, musical sights. People staring into the - chill of the night. I see their - practiced facial antics. The puckered lips, the delectable smiles, - the inviting bedroom eyes. The body kinetics - ever so present, on this champagne evening - about to explode. As old lovers, new lovers - and lover- wanna-bes, set forth to pay homage - and toast to this - fanatical film noir. 99
Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding - the clock has stroke twelve. I am ecstatic! but reminiscent - of last year because, I was alone. And the sound of the sweet music elevates - into the air. Body temperatures rise. But I am without despair, though I’m sure - it will take the whole night; but, I will find him, kiss him, welcome him, and wish him - Happy New Year!. DREAMS ( I ) Once as a youngster I dreamt a beautiful dream. I was staying at grandma’s and grandpa’s house - for the summer. 76 Cedar St, Brooklyn, NY. I dreamt I saw Jesus - staring at me all dressed in white. I don’t remember - what he said to me. But what a beautiful - dream that was. What a beautiful sight - for a little girl. I told grandma. ‘Til this day it’s - a beautiful memory. Later on in my life, still as a youngster, 100
but, a couple years older I dreamt an ugly dream. We were all living together - mom, brother, grandpa and grandma. 100 Vanderveer St. Brooklyn, NY. I went to bed with - a slight headache and I dreamt I saw a serpent, uncoiling its way - up towards me, right up off my pillow. What an ugly dream that was. What an ugly sight, - what a night of fright for a little girl. I told mommy. Now that I’m much older, a woman now - I hardly dream at all. At least not consciously, or constantly the way - I ‘d love to dream. I dream but, in spurts. I guess it can’t hurt - to dream that way. I dream but can’t remember - all the bits and pieces. I dream but some of - the bits and pieces are senseless, useless. Sometimes I awaken suddenly - and can’t finish the dream. Still it’s o.k. ‘Cause, I dream during the day - while shopping, working. But, my nights are peaceful, and I can whisper - this to myself because, I know my dreams are locked - safely in my heart. And God knows - which ones I want to come true. 101
SISTERS UNAWARE We’ve come a long way - to gain our independence. We’ve changed the world - with our minds, souls, spirits and beauty. We are strong and unyielding. Our voices have been heard. We’ve proven our resilience in life. We’re soaring higher - than ever before. And though recognition is supreme, we all know evident in our eyes - are the memories of , the past, the slavery, the bondage to a woman’s position - in society’s commonplace. The former, empty hollowness - of befitting that perfect image of man’s holiness - of what a woman should be. So from birth to school girl, career girl, womanhood and motherhood, we must tarry onward working - together as one entity. Never mind the petty chivalry - or rivalry that can befall us. Don’t compete with each other. Enculturate together. You still act as though - you’re allergic to one another. And you still want, need and - search for a man whose equipped with it all, a perfect ten. But, you must blend, shine and - continue to strengthen, each other now. Yes sisters unaware you still - 102
have some maturing to do somehow. I’ve never been the Amazon type, so don’t let each other down. We’re still needed to procreate, and what’s good will - eventually come around. Teach each other the sound of equality. Or an Amazon is exactly all - we may have to look forward to in the boring end. WHO CAN DEFINE LOVE Are you ever lonely? Have you ever been lonely? Are you too young - to know what loneliness is? If you ever experience this loneliness, be strong and survive this experience. Are you alone, but don’t feel lonely? You’ve pasted the test. Love your life, - grasp the love you feel in your heart. Love yourself to death. Are you listening? Don’t ever take your life! Who can define love? You are love in its entirety. Love is eternal. LIFE Life; like a flower that grows - there’s room for improvement in our lives. 103
Like a candle; a beacon of light shone - forth to see in the dark.. Our spirits aglow, our spirits anew. Time is the essence of life! Yet how unfortunate is this factor; that it’s so unimportant to the many - yet so important only to the few. TIMING Rhythm is timing. Timing is everything in our lives. To be or not to be - to have or to have not, that is all a matter of time. Some wait, some activate. Truth is that patience is a virtue - however, destiny is either short-lived or prolonged by the grace of God - and shaped by the hands of time. Happiness, love, life, and peace are all calculated, within one grand measurement - of time and ours to pursue. Short-lived are fantasies, fortune and fame. Art as beauty is seen through the eyes of the beholder. But music lives in all our hearts forever. To scope the world in one - grand measurement of time and find true happiness, love, and peace - becomes harmonic with the will of the soul that doesn’t waste - precious drops of time. Hell and heaven are one. Saints and devils are one. Religion is separation and isolation. But, spiritualism is like - gestation made to strengthen, 104
and grow all in a measure of time - breath by breath, until the final death. Time has no favoritism, no prejudice. The normal can be powerful and prosperous. The abnormal can too be powerful and prosperous - both all in time. Heaven and earth were all made in time. Life’s secrets and mysteries bring - the joy and sorrow of all discoveries, within the past, present and future of time. Is earth doomed? Pointless. Love even after death like time is endless. DEMONS FROM THE PAST Too much loneliness,- too much time alone. Too much time on my hands, too much traffic in my head - can be dangerous. A door is locked - to a saint wearing a dark hat, filled with demons from the past - hiding the invisible halo. Freedom, free me. There’s an echo. I need to break loose. I want to be set free. My soul and spirit - bleed with anger, when there are great things - I want to achieve. I believe there is still time. The echo fades. I will pass through - this tunnel of hell. 105
I LONG TO BE HAPPY There is rain, then sunshine. There is day, then night. There is fear, then faith. Who can deny this. Once I was walking - alone on a journey. The road is full - of twists and turns. I can either look backwards - or stay focused on what’s ahead of me. The road is getting longer. A couple of times - I did look back. Dark clouds is what I saw. Bad memories are what I felt. Quickly, an inner spirit - says remain focused. I walk onward. The road is getting shorter now. Suddenly, I come to a tree - full of life with beautiful flowers, and a dove perched on a branch. A man is standing near by. He asks to marry me, says he loves me. I long to be happy. Together in a house - we can raise a family. I’m still standing on the road. I am still free to walk. He repeats, he loves me - but, there’s temperament in his voice when he talks. I still long to be happy. I was once in love before - but he tried to compete with me. You can’t love someone - or live with someone when 106
they’re trying to compete. It only manifests deceit. You can’t be open-armed - to their very needs. Your heart is hungry for love, but, your mind is full - of conceit and greed. Your right arm wants to assist, but your left arm will arrest. The dove suddenly flew away. I still long to be happy. Finally, the inner voice says, - “Is he any different from the rest?” His face is filled with such beauty; - a test I must pass. I am still standing on the road. Should I turn back? - I walk onward. GIRLFRIENDS Where did you meet yours; - in a new neighborhood, in grade school, high school, college?. In a bar, at a wedding, a funeral, a christening, a hospital, a rock concert - or on a job?. Where did you meet - your best friend? Or don’t you have one? Guess we’re all lucky - if we survive this mundane life with the comfort of one friend at all. Someone to bitch to, someone you can call - for encouragement, faith, laughter, wisdom. 107
Someone you can even cry with. A girlfriend that - isn’t jealous of you. That isn’t trying - to steal your man. Girlfriends aren’t easy to come by. They aren’t a dime a dozen. Truthfully, they’re almost - impossible to find. I had one special friend I met in high school, the day we were working - out our class schedules. We’ve been friends - up until she got married, and I moved away - to be with someone, I hoped to marry. But, it’s the simple - little things in life that matter. Not who you are, - or what you’re worth. But what you’re made of inside. So now I’ve got - plenty of men friends, and they can be a pain - in the ass sometimes, with their crass behavior and all. But I like having - more girlfriends around to party with, giggle with, act womanly, frenzy, and wildly insane with. What a shame! - girlfriends don’t come a dime a dozen. ‘Cause when I was little - I bought lots of them (girlfriends) candy or else they’d beat me up and make me - carry their books. 108
Back then it was smarter - to buy them candy and not get beat up. Today I’d buy - a shopping cart full of girlfriends, if they just weren’t so - damn jealous of me all the time. HOLLYWOOD Did you hear what so and so said about so and so? And such and such - happened thereafter? No, but I heard - that so and so, is sleeping with - you know who, when you and I both know - that so and so, is married to - you know who. Well, did you see that dress she wore? You can’t blame him; - she even danced like a whore. Yeah? But he’s got - lots of money, and honey who - wouldn’t wanna do him. So how’s the new year - treating your career? Oh! topsy-turvy, but dandy. I dilly, dally here and there. Earn a penny here and there. But, girl I swear - I’m gettin’ older ! 109
and who the hell really cares? Anyway I was hot - in my heyday. I did it Hollywood style - the old fashion way. Worked my ass off - ‘till this very day. But eh! Look at ‘em now, young, beautiful, busty - and not a damn drop of talent. So what’s up - with you kiddo? How’s life in your corner? Oh! you know, what’s the use in bitchin’. I wake up, take my quicker-picker-upper pills like the doctor says. Powder my face, watch my weight, scurry to the studio, grin my happy-go-lucky, but phony-million-dollar smile and I’m fine. Perhaps in time - I’ll be remembered for my smile, my hair, boobs - or hopefully my brain. It’s wishful thinkin’ - before the curtain drops. And hey! Ya’ never know, I might get to - marry the producer who wins the next - tin Oscar! Or is it lead - with a gold finish? 110
SOLILOQUY Once there was a conceptual vision - henceforth, the seeds have been sowed - in my mother’s womb. Breath to breath, heart-beat to heart-beat, born two months premature - under a star sign I emphatically adore. Ten little fingers, ten little toes, two little dots for eyes - and a button for a nose. Then too tiny for words and the future thereof; but - the genes speak for themselves. Yes my DNA and attitude, fit like a glove. Like a flower - I’ve blossomed and grown to love the world. Through wisdom and tolerance, I’ve learned to be - loyal to others as a girl scout is to a girl scout’s honor. I am here in flesh and blood. I have blemished. I have stabilized. I am good and true to myself. I am searching - and finding assurance. I’ve learned to flee - from imprisoned falsehood within society. So you cannot categorize me as a clone. I’m a lone hawk, but I hate being alone. 111
Yet, with a little rain, sunshine, and warmth, like photosynthesis - I will manifest a living, loving cell, deep from the depths - of your soul, of your pain and create unto you - a song so new with laughter to cheer and brighten your life. I am sensitive on the inside, and hard on the outside. I won’t take you down - but don’t oppress me. I am frilly and lacy. I love femininity in - small secret places. I love delicate, dainty things - pointless and silly to others. I love flowers, perfume and the colors of the rainbow - to caress me all over and change me into a new hue. With subtle imagination - I want to bloom into your mind. I am soft, fragile, - but fragility won’t bend my soul, - break my spirit. My spirit is of fire, but I scorch or burn - no one purposely. My flame is of blue light. If you’ve been overpowered - by the temperature, then you were trying - to control me. My heart is like gold and can’t be sold. It’s free to peasants - who are honest. But, like a sieve - to merchants who are corrupt. 112
My eyes are a - darker shade of brown. Look deep you’ll see - the warmth of my soul. Again, look deep into those - dark, glossy little pearls; they’ll not reflect or - perpetuate hate and jealousy. Now! I look down yonder. I see narrow paths - leading to small hills. Paths untread by humans. This is my mind clear - and strong as a mountain, movable only with - mind over matter. Solid as a rock; - these are my thoughts, untouched, unstained, comforting and free - from blasphemy. Now! I look up yonder - I see two trees near a mountain. The leaves on the trees are green and alive. The branches are long, sprung outwards and - facing both trees. These are my arms, strong arms that - long to hold you in serenity. The leaves are my hands, full of creativity and life - that will caress you in divinity. There’s a stream flowing - down from the mountain, this is my love - flowing out to you forever. 113
SPOT * COFFEE Downtown Chippewa and Delaware Streets; are you hungry? They’re open twenty-four-seven. It’s friendly, comfy, smoke-free, clean and artsy. Bright, peaceful with good - eats and treats, healthy plants and soothing books to read. There’s the aroma of imported teas, imported coffees. Relaxing music, pleasant adult theater conversation. Whimsical grammar school kid chit-chat, and earthy - adolescent college talk. Buffalo’s quaint little - homey, public dining room, living room. Here’s where - diverse people greet and meet. Here’s where people change a career, end a career or - plan a new future. The ever-present familiarity of - hope an faith pervading the atmosphere. The sun shining through the - wide picturesque windows. Beckoning you to smile and thank, God there’s still tomorrow - to fulfill your dreams and unlock the doors to the virtuous - inhibitions plaguing you for freedom. The door is open to everyone of all ages. The ethnic back-drop is unmodified. The colorful diverse nationalities - of people lounging there transcend and fill the rooms with humanity, humility, liberty and add - 114
luster to the scenario. Quite frankly, you’re at home - away from home, except there’s no wine to take matters a step further. So you’re not at advantage to spend - the night on the couches there, Ouch! However, you merely return feverishly in - the morning for breakfast, lunch, or dinner and repeat the cycle again. Perhaps, alone or with someone new this time. Come on down, the wait-staff - are steady on course, ever charming, mannerly and - offer sincere camaraderie. They’re your hosts throughout - the entire three periods, morn, noon, and night. Oh yes! And there’s scheduled live entertainment. Tourist or city resident; - welcome to Buffalo’s Spot * Coffee. It’s more than soup, sandwich - tea and coffee on the run. YOU ( I ) It’s summer, in mid-June. It’s humid, steamy hot. The fans are merely noisy, and offer little relief - of cool air. But I’m not about to worry - myself with domesticated chores. Nor worry about the debt were in. “ Take Five ” is playing - on the radio. I am with you. 115
The sun’s piercing - through the blinds. Ensconced in my loveseat; as I mentally ravish you, - as you fill my glass with wine. LABOR , RESPECT In the words of Al Capone; “ You read too many papers, listen to too many rumors. I’m not a gangster - I’m a businessman. I serve the people, give them anything they want. Booze, broads, gambling. They don’t want to pay me - for my services; I don’t want anything to do with them. I can buy anything I want. Give them all one or two dollars - and it’s I love you. They’re a dime a dozen but, some things can’t be bought. You can’t buy respect”. Not employed in the same - business as Al Capone, but, I do believe you - need faith in yourself. There’s always gossip and rumors. I’ve worked hard all my - life since eighteen. I’m the little gal on the - totem pole, remember me? Struggle, struggle and resilience. A resume is rendered! - I play it smooth. Nobody move, nobody get hurt. They won’t pay me - for my services; 116
I don’t want anything to - do with them either. I can’t buy anything I want. I don’t believe in that policy. But, people believe money - can buy everything. I want to live comfortably. Be my own boss, stay in business. I’m my own organization, - it’s good for my business. But, how much longer can - I go on struggling? How much more toil and labor, can I endure? The lil’ gal on the - totem pole forever? Big in heart, rich and pure. You settle for a cheap life, you can buy anything - for a dime a dozen. You excel for a richer life, you buy out your short-comings ... consider them frozen!. Barter and exchange - you earn respect in life. Feast or famine, I want a happy medium. Like Al Capone - we all want power, just don’t misuse it. I’m a citizen of the state - trying to pay my debts. Yes I’ve labored. Life’s give and take. I’ve given respect, and earned respect. Wealth, power, respect, a course sadly not offered - in college. 117
IT WAS TOO LATE When I was little my grandfather - bought my brother a watch. Then bought my - two cousins (Mark and Craig) a watch. Then my grandpa bought - me a watch. My grandfather bought - my brother and cousins a bike. Finally, he bought me a bike. I was a girl, - I came last however, my grandpa loved me no less. I went to the movies - and ate ice-cream, every time my cousins did. One special day, grandpa took my brother - and my cousins to the Yankees baseball game. I didn’t go, couldn’t go … I was a girl. Girls don’t know much - about baseball. “ Who said girls knew - nothing about baseball? ” At least I was willing to learn. Well I got to hear - all about the fun, and details about the game, when they returned. One day when I grew up, and became a woman I had two tickets - to the Yankees game, at the magnificent Yankee Stadium. Which I had never been - there since a child. 118
Oh! how I wanted to - buy my grandpa a hotdog, a cup of beer - anything he wanted, now that I was a big girl, - a grown woman; No longer! his lil’ granddaughter. I wanted to take him - to see his favorite team. But, my grandpa was in despair. He was tired, he was lonely. He was sad, I thought, a Yankee game - would cheer him up!. I was also battling - my own despair, and tired, of my own loneliness. The Yankee game together - would cheer us both up!. Yet, I waited, and waited. I was tired of - so many miserable occurring events. Yet, with the tickets - in my hand finally, I reached grandpa’s house. But, it was too late - to tell him the good news. He’d already taken his life. THE PIGS And the law states you’re innocent until proven guilty. And whosoever doth no wrong - cast the first stone, whether their motivation was - egotistic or altruistic. And so the guys in - the blue suit one day, 119
with silver shinny badge in your face; - were confronting you, abusing you, crowding your space. A misunderstanding transpired - you say, and innocent you were in every way!. But they conspired to - take you downtown, making you dance to their song - though you weren’t wrong. Wanting only to defend your right, the pigs not giving a damn - didn’t understand your plight. They said you’re obstructing the peace. Claiming you put up a fight, - now you’re handcuffed in the eyes of the law. They ignored the credibility - of bystanders stating the injustice they saw. Once again, the pigs take control - but you’re innocent until proven guilty or so you’re told!. In the cell you spend the - night until a lawyer or judge, can set things right. Your picture and fingerprints are taken. Your pride and - dignity are shaken. The fate of your - life now threatened. The fear of your - freedom forever stolen. Miscommunication between - the law and civilian. Tug of war between - devil and angel. Your word versus theirs - 120
provoke you with fear. The pigs and their power, my God how they make - you squeal and cower. The verbal and physical abuse. Some die by their own - noose in the cell. You wait frantically for - the judge’s final decision, to free and turn you loose - out into your own world again. Away from their living hell. Just tell me whose really perfect? What law is reverently - the law without defect? Who in power isn’t advantageous - of the little guy or gal sometime. Why is there a big or little guy or gal?. Both are eminent of swine. Weren’t all men created equal? Who’ll clean up this atrocity - before the next sequel to this story. Let’s all protect justice - however great or small, before the pigs devour - the rights of us all. PORT JERVIS, NY. (SUMMER 1979) I lived in a cabin colony formerly a motel inn - adjacent to a horse stable. In front of the colony stood - a restaurant named the Cornucopia. The owners were German. Across the road from the Cornucopia was a children’s camp. There was only one road inbound and outbound – 121
between the camp and colony. Pleasant sights along the way. There were beautiful hedges of tiger lilies alongside - the fence of the camp. I used to pick many - bunches of lilies daily to beautify my studio kitchenette. Sometimes I’d venture two miles north from my cabin - just for a stroll to ease my mind, caress my spirit and uplift my soul. There was a small creek off-side to the right. Behold, there were beautiful - glorious, huge white water lilies everywhere illuminating the creek. And a couple of frogs gayly leaping in and out of the creek. I used to love to sit there barefoot by the creek and read or write. Sometimes sing even without music. It was so peaceful, humble, so wholesome. I didn’t feel lonely. I felt alive, free and happy. I felt that empty part of me filling up with bliss, and I would cut the thick - stems of the water lilies to take home. Unfortunately, water lilies don’t survive long once they’re cut. But they brought a smile - to my face anyway. The lilies remind me of myself, bright, fragile, soft, delicate - and full of life with a heart of gold with so much of love to give, before I get too old. But no available candidate knocks at my door. And I’m very - 122
energetic, always trying to aspire to do better for myself, for mankind. Like a lil’ ball of fire, a steady flame I manage to control - before people try to control me. The Neunzig Family owned the Cornucopia. They were sincere to me. I later became their employee. It was good times for me. Once, I got the shock of my life. I remember my father was passing by on this long, winding road and - stopped to dine at the restaurant. I thought what a pleasant surprise!. We talked about our lives. We tried to make up for lost times, because I hadn’t seen him in awhile, since his last visit at my mother’s home. But sadly I never saw him again. Not now, but almost a year later; in Middletown, a half hour away where I attended college, my - mother phoned long distance. She said, “My father died of a heart attack”. I cried in anguish. But was relieved eventually just knowing I spent those few precious moments - with him while he was alive. However, while still living in Port Jervis, there weren’t many other residents living in the cabins. So the restaurant was - oh! so good for me, because I’d been very lonely. Werner, Giesla and Eric - were my family away from home. I didn’t then have the comfort from my own family. I was alone, so alone, too alone. Then grandma wrote me one day. She Said, “She was also passing my way, 123
on that long winding road”. I prepared a special dinner for her. I waited, waited, and waited. So sure she would come. I had no phone then. Just waited for her arrival. Again, I learned a - hard lesson in survival. Go on, move on, strive on alone. Suddenly, slowly, it was dusk, twilight. Then the still of the empty quiet night. I ate dinner alone. Yes, again alone. The pain was temporary. I had to analyze this act of deceit. And to my surprise, I - never thought my grandmother wore two faces in disguise. I wiped the tears from my eyes. In distress I needed to rest, find peace and ease my mind. Weeks passed by. She never wrote me a letter to explain the endeavor that - made her neglect me in someway, on what could’ve been a - very important special day. Need I say I hadn’t seen her in two to three years. No one should have to be that alone ever. I didn’t reside long in Port Jervis. It was a stepping stone towards my destiny. In favor of a better life essentially. Cross the road from the camp - the children ran, jumped, sang, and played together so lively. The children’s laughter made me smile easily, 124
and often times drained tears from my eyes. I wanted children then, but couldn’t afford them financially. I loved children and craved - for their special kind of love so deeply. Children are full of energy. Children are a dose of medicine for the elderly. They make you feel young again. Children learn discipline - from their elders when they’re young. When we grow older we - learn discipline from them. Again, there’s that long, long road in and out of town. Similar to my lifestyle, one long, winding road in and out of my life. Depicting the joys, sorrows, and ups and downs in my life - reflecting my past, revealing my present and representing my future – with lots of hopes and a slow progress. However, there’s always a road to choose. Right or wrong it’s your choice. I brought my first car in Port Jervis. Prior to driving while living there, I bicycled everywhere. Port Jervis was a small residential town, with people living a semi-colonial lifestyle. It’s not a very commercial town, but it’s peaceful with unique - little craft shops struggling to survive. It was a town conducive to my lifestyle for awhile. But, the endless struggle - 125
again, mirrored before me. The repetition of my life - a constant struggle to survive. The constant memory of being lonely. The constant threat of losing security. I left Port Jervis in the fall, said, “goodbye to the bluebirds and robins” and beckoned to the call of new dreams. But, I’ll always cherish those memories - of the beautiful tiger and water lilies that brightened my lonely days - and never lost their delicacy when they decayed. I’ll always harvest the friendship of the Neunzig Family. I remember lil’ Eric adored the Yankees like my grandpoppy. I’ll remember the great cooking from the Cornucopia. While employed there, I tried for the first time - mutton, German potato salad and black forest cake. I pray those youngsters at the camp grew up to become prosperous men and women, never - looking back at their mistakes in life. But, strengthening and growing wiser. I hope they’re never as - lonely as I was. Because, no one should ever be so alone. I hope they’re happy and Godly and find faith and guidance in the stars above. 126
BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION I succeed and then retrograde. And every time I encounter a set-back in life - I feel like I’ve died the same death - a thousand times over because, resuming doesn’t always appear - to be strengthened by renewal or rebirth. And the tears released cannot begin - to heal my hearts’ open wounds. I sat in church once, surrounded - by many members yet, all I could do was continually cry as the - congregation sang in jubilee. And their presence only watered my eyes with the lonely emptiness I felt inside. Yes, surrounded by so many - yet, feeling so lonely. Suddenly I prayed and with open palms, I hold my freedom and hope - that he hasn’t forgotten me. As I watch through the keyhole - of the church door I see all the enemies outside, that don’t believe in me. Now outside once more, I breathe and continue my journey. The sun steadily greets me - my heart is wet and beats with fear. But, though I know my life’s not all yet clear, I’m sure he still loves me - beyond my comprehension. LUCK O’ THEE IRISH I’ve but a wee’ bit o’ money in me pocket but - I’ve got a heart o’ gold. My kisses sweet as honey, and me heart’s – a wishing well full o’ love so I’m told. Wee’ bit o’ money, but a heart o’ gold, an’ I give it all to you me dear lads, - free as a four leaf clover, never to grow old, so let it grow in your green garden forever. 127
CHANGES I listen to the radio, the music is my salvation. And every year - there are new hit releases, and in between - there are oldies reminisced. Peace and love - are the universal law. Your ancestors, my ancestors, your children, my children - and everyone’s children’s children, all play a part in - upholding this law. The music is a link between - people and this universal law. So now, I recognize the lyrics - in the music are changing daily, from party-hardy - heart-throbbing dance beats, to more classified awareness - of spirituality within yourself. As only then can we become - universally spiritual as one entity amongst everyone else. And that’s an easy beat - to follow if ever I’ve heard one. UNKOSHER As they perform their stupid little - girlish mechanics at work, and act out their evil tactics, exhibiting them in front - of one another, like from some cheap - domesticated play, as they wrangle - 128
with each other’s minds, vex each other’s souls, spirits - like ghouls, zombies. They inhibit, interfere and - try to annihilate each other like beasts from alien planets. They spend their time plotting pits - for one another to fall in. To prove what! - that they so desperately seek to gain success, upscale their titles, positions, in the business world - by back-stabbing, cheating and, lying on each other constantly. And they try to equate their - womanhood with iron fists, holding power in one hand, and war in the other. To prove what ! Some man called the boss - is going to promote them a raise? So they flirt with scum and - sleaze around the company to prove to him they can - endure in a man’s world. Then they laugh at each other’s - femininity and bodily parts. Whose a D’cup or not. Whose flat assed, or has - baseball bat legs, long hair, or no hair at all. And I laugh quietly to myself , as they vile each other with - slander in the bathroom and solicit filthy, cunning looks to each other while passing corridors. Their claim to fame is their - self centered lives, tanning clubs, health spas, frequent bar hopping and their - 129