of a snowy winter’s past. And embrace the rebirth - of Mays’ solace, and contentment; that the rose of June beautifully chaste - will forbear sweet scents of, fertility, love, happiness - and faith in summer’s fortitude. HYPOCRISY OR DEMOCRACY And I contort my body - to the war-dance, of life everyday - within this rat-race of tribal watch - amongst the natives, migrates, old breeds, half-breeds, you and me - to see who’ll gain face-value for their human servitude. Green pieces of paper, of monetary power - sickens me with grief, to know all things earned - and well deserved, depend financially - on this country’s daily scale of stocks and bonds. How sad, the American dollar equals - not the American dream. ANGELS WITH DIRTY FACES Dedicated to all of us - who have gone astray at one point - in our lives or another, yet, returned to steady a course - 230
reviving ship-wrecked souls along the way. And as our compass points - to a land that’s better, richer; God’s mercy and forgiveness endures - and is far greener, purer. And we angels with dirty faces - once lost will remember, our turbulence and decadent ruins at sea - are consequences of disobedience, and ignorant vanity. REQUIEM FOR A DEAD MAN A trip to hell and back - to repeat this earthly life. Yet this time - faith he will not lack - but gain repentance for his strife. And now his endeavors - are all in favor to his savior. And his present opponents, are lost, contrite and constantly wander - but, will fervently seek his discipleship with his Lord - and no longer defame him with dishonor. MANY YEARS HATH GONE BY Many years hath gone by, as I the wayfarer, traveler, passerby - then searching for wisdom and fleeing turbulence in my life - but stumbling onto many long winding roads, and paths I’ve never tread. And I, still so innocent before the setting sun, then blinding my eyes with obscurity which finally lead - and awakened me to freedom. And with myself I’m fully self-assured, as I still secure that sacred innocence locked in my mind. 231
And many years hath gone by - yet he save’th my soul, spirit, and kept beauty from dying - once lame within my body, as uncertainty ruled my life. But now redemption strengthens, and freedom and wisdom - it bring’th wholly unto I; like gallant soldiers side by side - to crusade and protect my life. So I drink to thee - and thou once was me so long ago - many years smiling at my own divine comedy. But loneliness, barrenness - are slowly, gently fading. And naiveté once with all her splendor, can no longer imprison my heart - by seduction’s fanciful trading, of my love for their lust - from wild men’s pleasure made degrading. So I salute to thee and thou is me. For many years hath gone by, yet time hath ripened me - into a fruit with fertile seeds. And faith will steady me - for its’ power leave’th me nigh. RITA WRIGHT Rita Wright who, did everything wrong - in grade school. I mean from - the school bully, to the teacher’s pest, not pet. But, she was a gal who - encountered many problems, and grew up with many hardships - engulfing her youth. Though now she’s free from agony. Free as me and you. 232
She’s grown into a lady - no longer a neighborhood rivalry. She’s turned bad into good. She fell in love - had a child and got married. She’s Rita Wright - who once did everything wrong. LADYBUG Ladybug, Ladybug - you’ve come to visit me now two weeks in a row. Blessed is your company, and majestic are your powers - clearly I am told. So do foretell your magic please - ‘cause this I need to know, for I a lonely Ladyhawk - whose heart is very unlucky at love. And if it is true - as it has long been said, that your good fortune sheds light to all anew - like raising Lazarus from the dead, then bestow upon me good fortune and faith, cease this travail I tread. Oh Ladybug, Ladybug vow to me - your pure Ladyluck divinity. For I a Lovely Ladyhawk - fears that father-time will run out, taking with him my Ladyluck without doubt. So simply cast your bearings my way, before nightfall calls me to dream - and you’ll surely flee away. MODERN AMERICAN DEMOCRACY What ever happened to the old-fashion gas station that used to sell only gas, air, 233
or service oil changes, and tune-ups, or Green-Korn family - coupon tickets each time you made a purchase? And whatever happened to the - old-fashion drug store, where you purchased only prescriptions, and sundries, like stamps, bandages, greeting-cards or stockings? Now you can get everything under the sun almost, like cigarettes, malt-liquor, beer and lottery tickets all easily accessible and sold - to adults and under-age teenagers. Yes, it’s becoming a chronic habit I’m told. And America grieves over her country’s - gambling, alcohol and substance abuse dilemma. The drug store is now similar to a mini-mall somewhat. You can purchase almost an entire – household of supplies in some of them, everything but a farm and the livestock. They’re putting the little guys - out of business, I dear say. The malls, who hasn’t been to one! They’re great for shopping - I suppose, however, they’re bad for your back - your legs, your feet, but the kids love em! THIS PASSING, FADING, OF LIFE And I stand before you - naked outside my fear, with my heart and soul bare - to the world around you. My only refrain - is that I love you , and hope you’ll hear - these very words before, this passing, fading, of life. For my voice has echoed - these very words that bore no filter. 234
These very words that harvest hope - before this passing, fading of life. To you I bore my strength and time. Now I give unto you the virtue - and productivity of my mind. Unselfish, yet well-contained - I leave behind a phantom-ghost, my beautiful spirit your guided host. A timeless image of my kind - to embrace and fill your life with love divine, before this passing, fading - of life. SACRED ADVICE People tell me to relax more, take it easy, live life more freely. Well - I guess I’ll be leaving - this latest boomtown real soon. MY RICH My Rich - used to say to me “You think too much, you’re always thinking”. Well I have to - because I basically raised myself since eighteen. And now I’m like a one woman football team. I assume positions of the coach, punter, kicker, quarter-back and play the entire center-field alone. And try to abide by the rules - from God my General Manager, and greatest fan. 235
WILD CHILD In addressing my 4oth birthday card - my mother wrote I was a wild-child. What she doesn’t understand - is that I’m free, a free child. And being free - doesn’t mean that I’m wild. Perhaps one day she’ll understand. Yet, I love her so. FELINE Feline that we are, we need be weary - of the dogs, we know who they are. - Allergic to them are we, therefore, an altercation with them surely - bring’th death nearer unto thee, you and me, the feline creatures were born to be. BOTTOMS-UP, DOWN THE HATCH Their drunken comrades are their new friends, new buddies - new flames, new past-time hobbies. Their lady luck has run out. They’ve shunned their girlfriends, burned their lovers - and divorced their wives. Men - young and old, they should be solid men, but they refuse to mold. So they marry taverns - and die in misery. 236
POETRY (II) Sometimes the verses approach you - easily as a one, two, three melody. Sweet lyrics - mastermind - for a magical music score. And then sometimes - the verses are distant, intangible, like treasures from a historic ship-wreck, suddenly appearing as a message - in a bottle so Godly, and miraculously surfacing ashore. TANGERINE I’ll miss his gentle disposition - unpretentious, clean-cut, and clear. I’ll miss his close-cut, cherry-blonde hair. And his beautiful wide smile that brightened underneath the glistening - of his soft blue eyes. His small face, round, full, and healthy skin, slightly freckled - with a terra-cotta tan. - This youthful man, a photographer who laundered at Maytag. And every time he was present, ever-so-near, he lent a freshness of splendor, that filled the air - like the sweetness of tangerine. 237
THE HAVES AND HAVE NOTS As a youngster - I remember going to church, and hearing people boast - about how good God’s been to them, because of what they’ve got - because of the jobs, houses, cars, businesses, things etc., because of what they’ve got - they’ve got they’ve got they’ve got I’ve yet to here them boast about how God’s - been good to them because, of what they’ve given back - given back given back given back I’ve been down, distraught, desolate and without - so many times that whatever lil’ bit I get and got - it isn’t worth boasting about. I’m just glad that God could – pull me thru and help me out. GRETA GARBO LASHES Two lil’ darlin’s roughly six and seven, probably sister and brother - so angelic as if flown from heaven. They were aboard the bus - with guardian by their side, who looked upon them with - tender care and pride. Both were favorably well-mannered, perhaps one became somewhat ill-tempered - 238
like children are when restless. But, I couldn’t help but notice - her lovely, long dark hair, in two-pony tails draping her shoulders. And his dreamy, piercing blue eyes, cradled under gorgeous - light brown soft sable lashes. Naturally long, like Greta Garbo lashes, that would do wonders - for a woman like me. OLE’ MAN BUFFALO Ole’ man Buffalo - had a farm, e - i e - i - yo! And outside that farm - were many city roads, e - i e - i - yo! And they dig, dig here, and they dig, dig there. Here they digged, there they digged, all through Election time - they freakin’ digged! Ole’ man Buffalo - where does our taxpayers’ money go? E -i - e - i - yo! TWO MILLION DOLLARS If I had two million dollars, I’d keep one million - for myself and family, and give the other million - to the government to upgrade, the minimum wage. So people will no longer slave - for penniless shit. 239
DON’T BRING ME HERE AGAIN, - I HEARD HER SAY Bar after bar, after bar. Drink after drink - Grandpa loves her, he means well, but he’s lonely - and needs company. So when mommy runs errands, she’s dumped with Grandpa. Grandpa manages to babysit - and venture out for company simultaneously. Together, they frequent the local bar. There she’s awarded hotdogs, pop and candy, and maintains her discipline well - for a four year old, until she’s tired, restless and intolerant - of the idiosyncrasies flourishing at those localities. Suddenly, she cries out - “let’s go, drink your beer papa, and don’t bring me here again” - I heard her say. And he won’t until - he needs another drink, and that day will be tomorrow. MY SIMPLE MELODY I’m a sucker for a good song. The music carries my spirit to heights unknown. Open-faced are the deep - dark corners of my soul. Each record played relentlessly - until it’s scratched-raw, like a parrot’s voice - growing old, sore, mimicking its own words. 240
That’s the sound of - my love, hideous, tiring, of repetition, tired of saying - I love you, a suggestion all so monotone to the same people who - have ears but definitely can’t hear, my simple melody. FIVE O’CLOCK HIGH Freedom isn’t free - you must fight for it. But they stand free - on the street corner, amazingly in despair. Careless, without vision, digesting nothing essential. Pretending and coexisting on – the street corners, living in ecstasy dreaming their lives away. Hiding under the sunrise with lame excuses. And they drink cheap beer, wine and booze - pitying their lives, with anguish and dismay. As the five o’clock high - kicks in like an over-dose of adrenalin. Yes, they stand fantasizing, perpetuating while watching daily commuters - materialize their dreams of reality. EVANGELIUM VITAE Faith, trust and continuity. 241
KATHERINE THE GREAT From generations past and present, her strong Irish upbringing - brought merit to her family. Katherine and her husband - worked hard and labored long , while raising her offspring as devout - Irish Catholic prodigy. My years of nursing were knowledgeable, and I learned a lot from my clients. Katherine was a strong woman - however, very stubborn also. It was her way or no way except - when I entered her life, then she learned to bend and adhere to change. In her presence once I drew her portrait - as she sat comfortably while falling asleep in her favorite chair. Eventually I could see - that time was passing her by. It is now a week before Christmas 1999. My last visit was spent - with her Christmas of 1993. Solemnly she called – the saints one by one to her bedside. Katherine the Great - will be missed by her loved ones with pride. And I’m sure she’s gone to - her Irish Heaven with smiling Irish eyes. AMERICA’S VETS I cannot write enough poems for my heart to sing out, cry-out In memory and respect - to all the vets near, far, young and old - past, present and now serving 242
blind-duty as participants in wars - solicited by foreign doctrine and sovereignty. As America fights, kills and dies for - the strength of soul, pride of joy, dignity of self-control and life itself. Yes, America prostrate falls - before her enemies, and the blood of our precious Veterans bleed - in our minds, and hearts with pity forever. DARK TUESDAY When carelessness prevails - all efforts toward perfection fail. Perseverance must endure, then and only then - will opportunity secure, it’s anchor unto your life. And this lesson was reinforced, all too well - on that very dark Tuesday, like a night in hell - when partial edited contents of my book “Time Passages” was left and lost on the bus - by my careless actions. And I cried, regretting this sorely. MEMORY OF DANIEL Daniel, too beautiful - to not know his own soul. And so he once stared into the mirror - of a faceless man. Too afraid to - search deep and touch his own soul - hence he once shared 243
the ignorance of many faceless men. He was apprehensive of - the world around him, but trusted no one. Hence he reached out to - a world so cold, and unyielding. And with a bitter heart - he suffered a torn conscience, as his life emptied him morally. He once told me “Selina, there’s no love in the world”. Daniel, if he is still living - blindly in his den, shield from the sun, - then he will die young spiritually, and grow old mentally. ODE TO MEN I know God - loves ev’ry last one … of you powerful, beautiful, creatures on earth. But, when you all malfunction - like careless, heartless idiots, the rest of the world - thinks you’re all assholes. OLGA German, and indoctrinated. Heavy-set, middle-aged - and highly dedicated to her mom, while seeking intense dedication - to God Almighty. She carried on a matronly life, and was a loyal mother and submissive wife – yet never appreciated by her former husband. All her efforts to employ - 244
her motherhood, and wifehood had left her withered, confused, abandoned, lonely, anguished, and tempered. She would sit in the corner smoking her cigarettes - regardless of which room she occupied, and would relentlessly talk to herself - while quoting the Bible. Many times she became enraged - by the ill-standards of the people in the world. She could like you one minute, then despise you the next. She’s labored her dues in life, And was well taken advantage of constantly. Unattractive, homely but sturdily built - she liked the finer things in life. I pray and hope some kind man, offers her an escape from - her worldly bondage, and shows her gentleness and love again. “ 43 & 23 ” ( 43 ) In awe of - all the sacred things presently unattainable and secret territories presently inaccessible, you wish you - could venture back in time to; with the wisdom - you have now, to move forward in life. ( 23 ) All the sacred things attainable and secret territories accessible, you wish you - could experience and venture into now, 245
with wisdom so - you don’t learn the misfortune of mistakes later on in life. REMORSEFUL There’s a lot of people who - have hurt me in the world. I guess I could hate them all. But, that’s just another burden to bear, another cross to carry. I will try to - forgive and love my enemies more. So I exhibit these - remorseful feelings, for those who havn’t - shown me any. May God - enlighten them all. TALENT When you don’t cultivate and utilize the talents God gave you - you become a slave to someone else’s world of mechanism and technology and then victimized by routine. 246
MADAME CROW Madame Crow - She’s got issues. She’s selfish, stubborn - and secluded from the world around her. She’s lost out on some very precious - moments in her life. Madame Crow - So dark and lovely, but her heart is stone - her love is cold as ice, and she lives continually in disguise. ODE TO BEER “Beauty is in the eyes – of the beer-holder” Who wrote that? Huh! Let me guess, a bunch of drunks perhaps. However, my granny once gave my bother and I a lil’ taste – of beer n’ sugar when we were younger just for fun! It made us feel like grown-ups. Yet, now I still remember that awful taste – of beer n’ sugar that could’ve past for gasoline, at least back then those were – my feelings when I was younger. Now that I’m older beer taste much better, but could feel much better also without the calories. 247
RAINBATH Summer it is - or is it almost over. It is mid-July, hot and moist. We stand in the backyard, in awe of the rain - that’s steadily pouring down, beating off the tree limbs - drenching the leaves that fall to the ground. We stood there naked in the wide-open air. Our beautiful bodies bare amongst the birds in the trees - while listening to their sacred beautiful sounds, without thunder and lightning crashing from the sky. It was all too magical and enlightening for him and I. Like Noah’s ark, forty days, and forty nights, in one day it seemed like tons of rain had - gushed out of heaven hitting the ground, flooding the earth. Splash, splash ! - oh but how wonderful, for it was a warm, gentle and steady rain with no wind. Warm, soothing and kind for two lovers to take a rainbath. Neath’ the oak tree, hidden were we like Adam and Eve tantalized - by mother nature as the rain dropped, plopped, splish-splashed! creating large puddles, here, there, everywhere. So sensual to our bodies the wine of mother nature - beating down on our heads, flooding our faces, drenching our bodies, cleansing our souls. Drunk were we with bliss, love and joy. We laughed, sang, washed our hair, dried-off, then went inside – for a glass of Chablis. 248
PANSY, LOUISE, CLARA, ROSIE AND ESTHER Pansy, Louise, Clara, Rosie and Esther - all lived in a senior-citizen building. Pansy lived on the 4th floor Louise lived on the 9th Clara lived on the 1st Rosie lived on the 7th and Esther lived on the 12th . This senior-citizen building - provided three meals daily, scheduled events and bingo. Esther was too ill to visit her neighbors. But they were my nursing clients at the time, and I loved them dearly. I took them to Rosie’s apartment - one day for a fish-fry dinner. They loved the meal but - afterwards they sat around - basically scorning each others’ age, talents, and beauty in jealousy - instead of promoting, complimenting, and enriching each other’s lives and - last precious moments with stamina and sunshine like the golden-girls - they really were. ICICLES Short ones, long ones fat ones, skinny ones - stacked one by one, all in a long row, crystal-clear, spiral - and dressed in white, outside my house gutters and windows in plenitude. My lil’ darlin’ Candy and I - would paint them with water-color pastels, and like hang-gliding angels they build a beautiful fortress - around the house and reflect a rainbow, honoring God’s holiness through the - magnitude of the bright sunlight ! 249
OLD BOOTS, OLD SHOES Worn-out, torn-out but, not quite blown-out yet. They take on the shapes of longevity from my travels. Old leather wrinkles - molding the variable tired shapes of foot-print patterns stabilized in my old boots, old shoes. Like old lady wrinkles - from tired youth dying unto old age upon this earth simply. Withered sun-bleached leather once new and shiny-black - now covering my toes, heels and ankle-line, scruffy from front to back. But they only deface the outward appearance of the beauty of my feet - that’s hidden under old holy socks beneath, the scuffed-up, scruffed-up old leather boots - and old leather shoes I’ve worn for years, that patternized and symbolized my life’s physical endeavors and journeys. But beauty is skin-deep and belies the truth - of how far these ole’ boots and old shoes have taken me, and how far I’ve come, and how far I’m going. LIPS SEALED ( CONFIDENTIAL ) First Party - P – sss! …. Can you keep a secret, promise not to tell anyone? - this is between you and me, - don’t tell so-and-so …. - I told you this, O.K.? 250
Second Party - O.K., I promise not to tell anyone. What’s the scoop? First Party - Well – so-and-so …. did so-and-so, and so … the other so-and-so; is going to beat the crap - out of you know who. O.K., there I’ve said it! Now, you promise not to tell anyone? Second Party - I promise, my lips are sealed. P.S. - second party told a third party, - and the third party told a fourth and so on … - and so forth. Can you guess the final outcome! P – sss! Lack of confidentiality and trust. 251
SALUTATION - TO LIFE I salute you in health, in youth and freedom. I salute you to a new life of virtue - and what is life for me or you without freedom? I wish you great happiness in whatever you do. I salute you in this new millennium. CODES N’ REGULATIONS I remember venturing out to a new pub once and – the sign on the door stated “No Colors” Immediately it struck – curiosity in my mind, and temporarily disturbed my soul – as I interpreted racism stemmed from ole Jim Crowe days. Yet, when I entered the pub – I was reassured from the owner that “No Colors” meant – “motorcycle club members weren’t allowed in wearing their color-codes”. Whew! was I ever relieved. GYPSY WITHOUT MOLE Lil’ gypsy that I am I have no moles on my face though there’s a single thread of hair – growing right-side of my face under my chin. It doesn’t need combing – It stays in place, wish it could bring me good luck. 252
DON’T JUDGE All Germans aren’t murderous killers. All Jews aren’t cheap misers. All Arabs aren’t thieves. All Italians aren’t cunning Mafia members. All Spaniards aren’t cut-throats. All Polacks aren’t stupid-dummies. All Irish aren’t chronic drunkards. All Russians aren’t spies. All Cops aren’t pigs. All Whites aren’t racist hicks. And all Blacks aren’t illiterate druggies. - Get it! That means you - everyone. Don’t Judge! Or you shall also be Judged. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart - for purchasing this copy of my first book”. __________________ 253