Tag Archives: life

Possibilities

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tall piles of books
tall piles of paper
tall piles of drawings
tall piles of note taking
tall piles of poems scribbled

a few empty jars cleaned out
I live in my ideal city pushed
back in the corner I sit
each title a windows’
line each space

a possibility

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To The End

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we all walk
bundled up on
winter days
but the dogs

jump for joy

the old man
will not sit by
his fire he takes
himself out

slowly stretching
his steps next
to the lines
of poplars

he will walk to
the end not
a thought
of surrender

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© 2013

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To Keep Me Standing

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out of the dark gray morning
the turtle dove calls

same song she plays
on all seasons to call me

out of sleep into the awakened
daily life the tiresome day life

that holds a song or two
such as hers
to keep me standing
.

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In Sickness – Three Steps

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1.

winter came early

this year to me

and to so many

others counting

the dead ones

holding tight

to a thin opening

of breath whistling

almost in an out my

house old all of a sudden

2.

I do repeat I love you

to my self five times

at day more really

because it helps

my lungs relax

I feel larger

than life

simply

saying

to myself

I do love you

hold on tightly

3.

all shall pass one day

not today maybe

please not

today

.

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Chapel of the 1348 -1478- 1576-1930 Plague, Italy.

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A Different Point Of View

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I may indulge

in upside down

visions a different

point of

view

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giving you pictures

of reflections

shadows clouds

and waters

.

all fleeting

all temporarily

true

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You can view me, reading this poem for you, here.

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Seasons

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I end up at times

visiting old friends

dinners stretching

.

over time feeding

our souls

the privilege

.

of recalling

the spirit’s

visitations

.

our hearts

a candle burning

quietly

.

steadily shaking

in the evening

breeze leaves

.

we are made to fall

and to die

full of colors

.

when it’s season

.

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“Not Rosaries Nor Missals” is a collections of poems started on July 2013. This poem comes from that collection.

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Everlasting

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life as a bird

an egg in a nest

in unexpected

 

places hidden

cared for and guarded

with parental

 

love cracking to

the first light revelation

being fed and

 

taught to sing

before I could fly out

into everlasting

.

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Superlatives

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the wildest

is at the bottom

of peace

.

the loneliest

is found among

a crowd

.

the kindest

is yourself forgiving

after rage

.

.

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Poem from Silente

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Last week no poems were ever published due to the gravity of George Floyd’s killing and in observance and solidarity of Black Tuesday and Black Lives Matter.

The Look My Soul Has

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in between loving cats
and feeding elders
roaming paths

it was the caressing
with my eyes of the olive
trees barks twisted by

the winds and the lack
of water – is that the look
my soul has – she had no

idea life was business
to attend same the church
and the cats and the elderly

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2013-10-27 13.48.09

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This poem is part of the collection Not Rosaries Nor Missals.