Tuesday, August 19, 2014

FRIENDS


 Don D and Steve E with 
first Motor Scooter 1949
Photo by Norma (Mother!)

God sends me friends,
unseparated Parts of Himself
to share, to care,
(and I was told)
to be aware.

Human nuggets, pure gold,
not for shelf-keeping,
dusting, burnishing
now, then, and when...
Precious souls!

Friends, God's bestowal,
carefully held in my heart
cherished, loved,
more, more, and more.

...as slowly older I grow


--steveroni
August 2014


Friday, August 8, 2014

FLY BIRD




FLY BIRD

Fly little bird,
Fly with the wind.
(Quoted) "if you don't,
you have sinned."

Wind is the law
And the law is just...
So...as winds blow
Must you also go?

Fly on silver wing,
and one fine day in
powder-blue sky, 
when other you meet, 
together you'll sing! 

Fly sweet birds, where
Winds have not chose--
Then as you oppose,
Have you surely sinned?

INTO the wind, YES! 
Fly if you must
Because you truly,
Completely trust...

At last overcome by
Wonderful wonders of love.
Cavort on the beaches,
But one time gaze above

At white dove.
Which will be...
Me

--steveroni
rev. 8/9/2014


Sunday, August 3, 2014

NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

LET THERE BE PEACE

THE 'HOOD

In unison steps 
and rhythmical stride
Morning, noon, and night, 
small armies of six or eight, 
washed shirts starched--
marching

I shudder, thinking
the awesome power--
spirituality emanating
seamlessly, seemingly
from several clusters
of little soldiers 
stepping in cadence
over heated pavements
..2..3..4..HUT!

Each few along the way
a parasoled officer leads,
perspiring in heat on concrete...
onward to grandmother's house,
where no enemy waits to meet.

Pushing, pulling 
wagons, baskets, buggies.
Groups of little ones
follow in filed rank, 
those taller. 
At head of all,
a "general" carries 
"wounded" young vet.

...and of that general?

why, it's none other than
she, who they all call "Mother!"


NOTE:  People who have moved here from other countries 
astonish me with their loyalty, devotion, togetherness
and friendliness. Whole extended families tread the
 sidewalks mornings and evenings and smile happily.
--steveroni






Tuesday, July 15, 2014

MEMORY--OH! WHERE YOU GO?



DREAMS

Dreams borrowed from god of night,
next day trying in vain to recall
so to excite with my pondered write

Straining to replace what's melted away:
Inspiration
perspiration
Respiration
might they together "save the day"

OR....

Wheels of my mind...HALT!
STOP! in your suddenly meshing grind
In frozen moment, press Shift, Control, Alt...
realize what was lost was not mine.

Allowing thoughts of serene peace and love
to silently meet with me at the first of light.
--Smiles

--steveroni
07/15/2014

I performed a Google "image search", could not find source...


Wednesday, July 9, 2014

MAG #227 The LATE PRIEST



From Magpie Tales

THE PRIEST WHO CAME LATE TO MASS

In old church I prayed, sitting solemn on my ass
Young man came in...reflected in the glass
Walking--in a hurry
Holding something furry
Said, "Please take this kitty, while I offer mass..."

--Steve E
Posted for Magpie Tales

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Please say, "HE LED A COLORFUL LIFE"...




IMAGE: Photographer Marcy Purdy


Hans Christian Andersen

In the little town there is much festivity:
they are holding a wedding there with dance and play.
To the happy man, the wine sparkles so red;
but the bride looks like whitewashed death.

Yes, dead she is to him whom she cannot forget;
he is at the feast but not as the bridegroom.
He stands among the guests at the inn,
stroking his fiddle cheerily enough.

He strokes his fiddle, his hair turning grey.
The strings resound: shrill and loud;
he presses it to his heart, paying no heed
whether it breaks into a thousand pieces.

It is quite hideous when one dies this way,
his heart young and still striving for joy.
I cannot and will not watch any longer!
It will make my head spin.

Who are you, with your fingers pointing at me?
O God - graciously protect us
from the madness that may overwhelm us.
For I am myself a poor musician.

--HCA

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

STORY IN TEN WORDS



remember when
kitty said
mew, mew, mew?
now, it's
MEEEYOWWWW!

--steveroni

IMAGE




Sunday, April 13, 2014

A LOVE LIFE

Thania Sayne leans on the headstone of her husband 
 day before their wedding anniversary on 16 Oct 2013 


GRIEVING LOVE

Before, during,
after fame
did love's flame
keep on burning,
never adjourning?

once I,

loved by lovely artist
who traveled every place
on our globe,
dancing
on her toes

now....

oh! I miss her face
god, I miss her so...
not secret our love,
nor for show

remember we,

strong trees?
side-by-side,
tall we stood,
roots weaved
but never tied?

and I took leave
and died?
oh! hurting heart,
you cried.

we met--before fame.
even during, next--
how persistently flame
continued to burn.

truest of loves
has no adjourn...

our one anticipation
to meet, greet,
on street or shore

 "quoth the Raven,
'Nevermore!'"*
our enscription:
"forevermore"


--steveroni
Published Sep 2013
Rewritten Apr 13 2014

*Edgar Poe, THE RAVEN

Sunday, April 6, 2014

READY...SET...GO


Sail Away --by elvengaard

Summer 1966 

Dear *****

Kurt was my "Sunday Morning" bartender. Sign, posted out front of Dusty's Red Barn in Naples Florida, read "LAST CHANCE for ALCOHOL until MIAMI".  Yes...I stood in line with others who also had--on Saturday--miscalulated their liquor inventory. 

Kurt's body was adorned with muscles as a holiday tree with ornaments and lights. He WAS one muscle. In an earlier life he caught his wife night-after-night. He, high up on small swing--she, even higher, flying through the air. High-wire circus performers who retired to Naples.

Originally from Sweden, Kurt and his wife loved sailing, and partying so much that I figured about all Swedes did was sail, drink, and fly high under a tent.

Kurt and I became friends, we both drank a lot. However, when Kurt would stop for the day--or night--I'd keep drinking until, well...until somehow, chaos entered the room. In minutes, I fantasized hell into a bright, shining goal instead of a death-dread.


Kurt owned a 36-foot wooden-hulled single masted sailboat, which I loved from afar.  At his invitation to go sailing without wives for a week, I said "YESSSSS!!!"
Reluctantly, of course--grin! 

Preparations included 5 gallon gasoline for the small auxiliary motor, 12 cases of beer and 1½ cases Early Times Bourbon. It was a compromise. Kurt believed one case to be sufficient, I wanted two cases on board, ya never know.  In my small "personal" case, I hid 3 quarts of vodka--to be on the safe side. I remember some water, lots of ice, and a case of Cola for Kurt. Also some food, about which I remember little.

(So many cases of beer--because if we should run out of water or ice, shrimpers at sea would trade for beer--boy, were they a rough, crude, bunch. Whoo!) Since it was I who clambered aboard the larger boats, made the exchanges, I recall my fears of indiscriminate bodily harm. 

Involving sharks, naturally--grin!
I had never seen much sense in beer drinking. It is mostly water, I figured.  In fact it was beer with which I watered geraniums. They were forever wilted. Always thirsty, I guess...

One weekday morning at 10 AM we set out, a lone boat in Naples Bay, even more alone out in the Gulf of Mexico. My first real "sail" adventure about to begin.

--steveroni

Part 2 will follow in couple days