SUMMERTIME--AND THE LIVIN' IS...

spring-fed pond about ½ mile from the farmhouse--my favorite place

splash!

...and how, now remember,

recalling those days...where have they went?

loved summer, despised winter.

consoled, i, by nice witch's wand

disguised as wafting breeze.

while slept by spring-fed pond

"PLOP!" jumping fish here, there,

conspiring, all, as heaven-sent

where she?

left me?

so far ago

shall never know.

splash!

ah! peace.

lost forever?

yet never cease!

existing-- 
like lost love?

no! 
like love found

anew.

you...

more splashing

my horse drinking

at water's edge

front hooves sinking

in beautiful mud,

awakening me

to new day.

already high

in blue sky

welcome sun

and i?

now re-living, savoring

every musical note of

lovely aloneness.

my ninth summer;

suitless swimming,

hearing, humming,

birds singing,

shhhhhh!

all so quiet.....

this--between you and me, luv.

(nobody else should ever know!)

beethoven's great ninth symphony

silently singing every note of

in my head, in my tent,

in my silent world of

peace...serenity...

SSSPLAAASHHH!

--steveroni

to be posted in a favorite place:
dVerse Poets Pub
after 3 pm every tuesday
this IS week #97

IT'S THE "LITTLE" THINGS

"If small things--for me--do not exist, 

the great is not great." 

- Jose Ortega and Steve E

Jungfrau Mountain Range, Switzerland

AWESOME!

six legs so small--moving speadily

across rock wall, moss-covered,

seems lost. comes thunder, rain.

stare i, in wonder

delightfully formed leaf

detaches itself, life spent.

perfection beyond belief...

i, in wonderment

all creation, constructed in spheres,

often wondered about that, too...

thick steel girders, huge wooden piers.

admiring, i. how about you?

water, air intrigue me

as do moons and stars.

as homo sapiens i "see"

black holes, quasars...

now i've stopped pondering,

no longer in wonder i stare.

wondering has maneuvered to awe

--finally, of God...aware

--steveroni 
3.10.2013

OKLAHOMA is the first musical written by the team of

composer richard Rodgers and librettist Oscar Hammerstein.

The original Broadway production opened March 31 1943.

A box-office smash, it ran for an unprecedented 2,243 performances

This is one favorite spot in the play for me:

ANNIE:

"With you it's all er nuthin.

All fer you an nuthin' fer me!

But if a wife is wise, she's gotta realize

that men like you are wild and free.

So I ain't gonna fuss, ain't gonna frown,

Have your fun, go out on the town,

Stay up late and don't come home till three.

And go right off to sleep, if you're sleepy,

There's no use waitin' up for me...."

Love, a Vignette

Human Love is about as understandable

as the galaxy pictured below, 

although some will say they "know" both!

This poem came to me while riding

home from a meeting today...and it

is one of the FEW of mine that I like!

andromeda galaxy

LOVE: OBSERVATON

That love in your heart?

ear does not hear

through all those so smart

words, via shiny monitor.

A voice may, of necessity

deliver messages of levity,

or profound promises

most delicately gossamer.

BUT.......

True love shows its

unmistakable self

between sweetest gazing

of two pair eyes,

so wise, no lies...

then it is, love can express

in kiss and caress

.......Exquisitely

--Steveroni
4 May 2013

(Real Love IS an action word. 
It is consistant and constant "doing" 
for another and others, 
in complete absence of self)

OPEN LINK NIGHT: LISTEN, MY CHILD, AND YOU SHALL...

Photo credit: Anna's son

HEAR!

child, what do you see?

what attracts your stare?

i believe that

only God is aware

what one day you'll be.

what put me there

in front of you

to catch this moment

of light, as yourself

you see in the lens?

grandchild of Anna

loved son of

loving son

who shall shoulder-carry

the family name, the tree.

be always ready...and aware.

each cat meeow, splashing fish,

running ant, sweet birdsong,

every Peep who comes along

teaches, reaches inside your brain...

learn to laugh, cry, live, love,

when pride says, "I KNOW"...dare!

a goal for you, baby one, be

Honest, Open-minded, Willing.

it is the HOW of living well.

and with your allure, I'm sure

a pleased God will say

you lived a life of

unending day.

fulfilling...

--steveroni

4/29/2013

Over @ dVerse Poets it is OpenLinkNight #94

--and the doors open Tuesday at 3 pm EST. HERE

YA NEVER KNOW

For Open Link Night, week #93 at dVerse Poets Pub. 

Postings begin Tuesday at 3 PM EST

EDNA WAS A BIKER-GIRL!

 A TOY CAN TAKE YOU 

ANYWHERE

Picture age four, a little boy
to whom Santa brought a toy
fiddle. Word rhymed with
diddle, as in "Hey Diddle, Diddle
The Cat and His Fiddle...
cow jumped over the moon, and
dish ran away with the spoon..."

I positively hated the violin
Hated my mother--a sin--
which led to many years
of torture, tears and fears.

SKIP from age 4 to 75
Hardly a man is now alive...?*

In nursing home a violin plays--
and it is ME, some days!
Playing for the old folks,
conjuring maybe a memory.

Smallest old lady (Edna) in wheelchair bent
over, as if God might send for her
that very afternoon. Eyes closed, nothing
moved...soundless room...just we two
alone (with about 40 others!), me
on floor, kneeling so I might see her face
and she, restrained with a brace, still in
mode of sightlessness.

I said to The Spirit--"What shall I play?"
Floated out from my violin that day, a
favorite "Ave Maria" which would say
most honest truth known, to Edna,
new Friend, most smallest lady--who
opened her blues, squinted at me. 

As we "connected" I saw a tear--only one,
roll down beautiful age-pruned place
along that creek where nose meets face.
What Utter joy--HOLY JOY I felt, as
her joyful memory-tears followed the one...

Thank You, God the Father
and Thank You, my Mother
for Gifts you both gave me that day,
Gifts for me to now give away......

As nursing aide rolled her away, I felt something taken from me.
Several days later, she was in heaven with her real Sancta Marie.
A nurse had whispered,
"We wondered if she would ever again
look out from her head bent there...
whether might once more shed a tear."

LAGNIAPPE:

...and every now and then, finding myself in a dark alley of life
I remember that day
and ask Edna to pray
for me.
--steveroni

This happened several years ago at                              
Moorings Park, Naples Florida

*from Longfellow's
Midnight Ride of Paul Revere

SIDE-BY-SIDE. STAND AND PRAY!

                                                      myriam loor

WE MUST LIVE WITH JOY
Is there a hell for these Peeps? HELL YES!
--Steve E

Pondering recent atrocities--while reading others who commented Monday's Boston Marathon 2013 happenings of horribleness--I found that I had not words to express my thoughts. Early this morning, picking up the most dusty book on my shelf, opening it randomly, I stared at this piece, as it stared back at me. From W H Auden's poem "Precious Five". This last stanza embodied my thinking, and is what I wished I could have written:

"I could" says the poet there,

Find reasons fast enough                        
To face the sky and roar
In anger and Despair
At what is going on--
Demanding that it name
Whoever is to blame.

The sky would only wait
Til all my breath was gone
And then reiterate
As if I wasn't there
That singular command
I do not understand:

Bless what there is, for being,

Which has to be obeyed, for
What else am I made for,
Agreeing or disagreeing?

--W H Auden

Posted by steveroni to dVerse Poets Pub 
Open Link Night (OLN), week #92

SAR-CHASM

Posted in OLN (Open Link Night) week #90.

Join us beginning 3 PM Tuesdays at dVerse…

The King of Sarcasm

walked into the room

with tongue cocked

ready to shoot.

Zing. Zing

Pop. Pop.

Bang!

Crippling blows

struck their targets

as he walked off

to sit alone…

and yes—

lonely

"Borrowed" from someone I do not remember.

Let me know, for attribution. Thank you.

MUSIC AND MUSE AFLOAT

Posted in OLN (Open Link Night) week #89.

Join us beginning 3 PM Tuesdays at dVerse…

     

Both paintings titled "VIOLINIST" by Mark Chagall

CLAUDIA, MARC CHAGALL, AND ME

While reading a few of  my blogger “favorites” I fell upon (yes!) this gem by Claudia…and comment here with words I really felt.

“Lots of fun stuff to “look at” in this piece, Claudia. The painter paints, and he awesomely colors violinists in non-gravity. (Is THAT why they called me –back in the day–”spaced-out fiddler”? NO!)”

The following is Inspired by Claudia's work

Clacking keyboard: she and me

and cherry blossom tree, amid

violins bathed in colorful splendor…

Chagall said(?) “Imagine how it must be

to live in all colors, minus gravity.” Hmmm.

Both lived in three-dimensions—or four--

waiting, suspended, not really real.

Falling in or falling out of their place;

a catch, a kiss, love forever sealed.

Nevertheless—

traveling 
endlessly,

separately, we

...In space!

--steveroni

March 25, 2013

THE LAST LETTER

Posted in dVerse

Poets Pub Tuesday

Open Link night

(OLN) week # 88

MY LAST WEEKLY LETTER FROM POP

Short Story of a MAN named Steve.

Born 1905

Cincinnati, Ohio

Sightless, age 4--1909

Farmer

Four children.

Loved children, wife, 
animals, reading, life,

in that order.

Horse kicked him in head, age 18,

totally deaf by age 50.

Perpetually smiling face—
happy, happy man!

Typed weekly (lengthy) letters

to which I responded—religiously,

in braille, also weekly,

also lengthy—grin!
We lettered for many years,
some now spotted with tears

This last one from him (pictured above),

written on Sunday March 25 1978, begins:

“Happy Easter to you all

Though the weather feels like fall.

The world itself keeps Easter Day

and Easter larks are singing.

Easter flowers are blue and gay

And Easter buds are springing.

The Lord of all things lives anew

And all His works are living too.

I spaded, (on his knees)

planted onions , lettuce and peas

until I was rained out.

Our crocus are blooming fine,

noticed buds on daffodils,

tulips still growing.
The whole world is awakening with spring.

For all of us a new birth,

even for wild animals and birds.

Had a look at pear tree.

Buds on it are growing,

tree feels very much alive…”

(Excerpts from Pop's last letter, 1978.)

The following Sunday, 
April Fool's Day

a massive heart attack

struck him breathless.

Forever.

Poem taken from this excerpt of "Last Letter"

REMEMBERING MARCH 18, 1974

BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA, USA

Night Scene from VULCAN, Iron Man

atop Red Mountain

Just stepped outside, looking round the 'hood, 11:20 PM Sunday. 
I used to love being on a hilltop overlooking cities like 
Birmingham, Alabama (beautiful!) or Cincinnati, Ohio, 
after most Peeps had gone to sleep.

Twinkling lights rivaled blinking stars, and the 
steady drumming of a city at rest--sounds comingling, so much the 
same steady rhythm like a huge heart beating (like 60 times a minute). 
Didja ever notice that? I listened carefully to sounds, reminiscent of 
Gulf of Mexico wave action, reduced, as if even the great waters needed a rest.

Today March 18, I've been sober IN Alcoholics Anonymous 39 years! 
WHOEVER would have thought....well, not ME! 
Full of gratitude tonight--up for 7 AM meeting in morning. 
What a WAY OF LIFE! Freedon from Bondage--it is!

LOVE and PEACE, Peeps--ALL!
Steve.