AFTER SEPTEMBER
my book of poetry about September 11th, 2001...and after Available NOW at Amazon.com -click here
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Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Happy Birthday , Mom in Heaven







Rose Mary

What will I miss most about life
when furnace fire darkens down
behind my lidded eyes?

Will I miss most
those rose water dawns of spring,
bright fresh mid-summer mornings,
late lazy autumnal afternoons?

Or blazing rouge sunsets
with evenings of bejeweled
purple sky and cold weather warmth
of long dark winter nights?

What will I miss most about life?
The music or the musician
the actor or the play
the painting or the artist
the sculptor or the clay?

A scent of dew after rain,
touch of your hand upon my neck
bread and wine of the host?

Oh!

I know well
what I will miss most.
When all else is done.

That would be you, mommy
And dreams.


Saturday, May 7, 2016

Happy Mother's Day









For Rose

I want to write a poem
About the women in my life
I want to write a song
About their power
And their light

I want to write about
How they roll up their sleeves
And go to work
When their men
Fail them

I want to write about 
How they never give up
How they make me laugh
When I am sad
How they comfort me
The moment I hear thunder

I want to write about how
They feed me when I hunger
How they nurse me when I am ill
How they calm me when I am enraged
How they teach me not to kill

I want to write about
How they taught me to love
The kind dumb animals of this world
How to bear and rise above
With the definition of the word “friendship”

I want to write about how
They can be 12 places at once
Making sure everyone has what they need
I want to write about how they walk in
When everyone else leaves

I want to write about the women
Who strap iron bars to their backs
And carry them up 6 flights of stairs
Just to ward off the fear attack

I want to write about the women
Who give birth
Not just to babies
But to the very earth

I want to write about
That special woman who gave me life
I want to write about all the women
Who've helped me make it through the night


I want to write about these women 
My mothers, my lovers, my sisters and my wife
But every time I try 
Their courage and their beauty and their strength
Humbles me


To silence