DWINDLING, a poem

Another classmate has gone

a heavenly call from God

or sickly old age

no big difference

now we are dwindling

Yes we were young once

athletic bodies

and such pretty girls

happy were those days

now we are dwindling

What awaits all of us

a chemicalized corpse

in a concrete box

or scattered ashes

an unfettered soul

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QUIET REVELS, a poem

Smiling she steps through

my memory’s door

a slender young woman

bursting with happiness

filling my life with laughter

After three months overseas

she rushes towards me

across Kennedy airport

so stunningly beautiful

filling my life with laughter

In the sundown

of ending age

joyful memories

are quiet revels

filling my life with laughter

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DREAMWORLD, a poem

Rapture ignited the fire

of prolonged deepening desire

with a loving intensity  

impossible to satisfy

in our dreamworld

The passage of time turned passion

into a smoldering landscape

periodically bursting

into renovated romance

in our dreamworld

Old age seized us

in its wearing grip

worn bodies remember

the sparks of young love

in our dreamworld

          (Feb. 7, 2018)

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MYSTICAL HOME, a poem

Home is for the aged forlorn

a mystical memory

of waking to mother

in the childhood kitchen

making breakfast

Waking in girlish happiness

anticipating a happy day

walking with friends to school

ice skating in the park

enjoying a hot chocolate

If only we could

fetch that girlhood scene

to the present moment

to salve the endless ache

for the mystical home

          (Nov. 11, 2018)

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HAPPY THOUGHTS, a poem

In tortured times

think happy thoughts

the easiest sources

lie in your idyllic

childhood memories

Mine: going with my father

all alone to Coney Island

the pleasure of my mother

welcoming me home with love

at the end of the school day

Picnicking  with  my sister Gloria

Bicycling with my brother Bill

Lunching with my sister Miriam

Campbell’s tomato soup

and oysterettes

          (Jan. 6, 2018: During World War II, my mother was still at work for a company catering to defense plants when I came home from school for lunch and at the end of the school day. She would leave lunch, soup and a sandwich, on the kitchen table for my sister, Miriam, and me. I was 11 when the war ended, her job along with it. I can still clearly recall the pleasure of finding her home once again.)

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LEAVE ME ALONE, a poem

          Please, please leave me alone 

          let me sit in quiet

          let me think my thoughts

          let me doze in peace

          My life is filled

          with dronery

          the dishes must be done

          the laundry is waiting

         

          Don’t follow me

          to my heaven

          don’t follow me

          to burning hell

          Leave me alone

          go your own way

                   (Dec. 21, 2017)

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THE ELITE, a poem

                 

                 Whether famous or anonymous

                  the elite soar from the plebeians

                  through their individual feats

                  of a moment or a lifetime

                 

                  The elite number in millions

                  beginning at the beginning

                  the first leader, fire maker,

                  bard, farmer, baker, artist

                  Among the undeniably elite

                  reflecting marvelous achievements

                  Leonardo da Vinci, Barrack Obama

                  Elizabeth Bishop, Willie Nelson

                  Jim Thorpe, Shalane Flanagan

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