THE WINDING ROAD

"And I wanna be in this moment

No one can take it from me

And I wanna stay in this moment

No one can take it away from me."

--IN THIS MOMENT*

LIFE: TWISTS AND TURNS

(ode to a moment)

ah, peace, 
play simply, 
enough...
for each moment 
wherein i spend 
my life.

this instant,
lived in grateful
attitude, love, 
extends itself to 
countless moments;

moments 
of less stuff
--but enough.


as if each "now"
is one of 
happiness.

it can be, yes?
most of mine are!
are yours?
NMW?  
(No Matter What?)

every single 
instant.

happy news 
about a friend 
came my way.

happily rested
in God's arms
i feel in
all moments 
of yesterday 
...and today

--steveroni

Over @ dVerse, Tony has us writing odes, in the shadow for Neruda---speak your mind, use your 2 cents, while you got it---doors open @ 3 pm EST. 

* IN THIS MOMENT - 

From the new record 'Blood', 

Century Media 2012

UNDER THE OVERPASS

Posted on Open Link Night 

at the PUB on Tuesday at 3 PM.

Join us please, for week #123

This is NOT the EYE OF A FLY

(It is left head lamp of my bike)  

BIKER TRIP-TIP

awareness is the key

to remain alive

on US ninety-five.

life depends totally

on what I blindly see

(is that rig only one...or three?)

on super-drive ninety-five

riding north, who knows to where

or for that matter--even care?

horizon ahead dark...darkened sky,

storm a'coming on twin-ribbed 95

favorite overpass remembered, where

bike and I had in another year

been sheltered--in five more miles

and there alone, happy, dry...sit I

on route 95

 as bridge-shaking violent deluge

breaks loose (and long before it subsides) 

bikers arrive, strangers, now friends--

all generous with stories of their rides,

also freely giving of themselves--(grin!)

passing around bottles and tokes

like santa's little red-uniformed elves.

party time! well, me sober, and

still-hot Starbuck in hand,

I drink it black from vacuum--

it's all I ask, these moments of peace,

knowing all is well in biker land.

while storm ends amid happy cheers,

listen! on high bridge overhead

hundreds trucks squishing gears

rubber on wet pave, speed-ing

thunder no more

under cloudless sky

on U.S. ninety-five

as eighteen-wheelers 

roar and roll on by

biker be'ware, 

or be not alive.

safely drive 

 Interstate-95

--steveroni

AWARE and BEWARE

how similar, meanings

SEVENTEEN SYLLABLES

17 syllables

more fun to catch raindrops and snowflakes on tongue,

than to catch a football.

pretty singing--she in shower--

on radio, Tristan Und Isolde

whirring is lawn mower motor--

as low overhead, jet engines screaming

fingers peck keyed letters,

cause computer to crunch many million codes

drinking all night put truth out of sight

till dawn brought me... reality

--steveroni

gay has us write american sentences  today…

 17 syllables… capture a scene… 

see you at 3pm EST when the doors open in Poets Pub "FormForAll"
THIS IS PLAIN F U N !!!

TYPHOON!

IN U.S. WE REMEMBER OUR MILITARY VETERANS ON NOVEMBER 11

"To care for him who shall have born the battle,

and for his widow and his orphan..."

--Abraham Lincoln

TYPHOON

this week, I share pride for U.S. military

--past and present--

with deep sadness for the dead, living,

wounded of the Philippines.  

i pray for those who bravely continue 

searching for and retrieving bodies, 

dead and alive. 

also I'm grateful for nations which 

unselfishly give their resources 

to help temporary limping impoverishment 

of southern Philippine Islands

whether ten, or ten thousand 

listed dead, injured, missing--

a weary heart, same sadness

God understands that looting and badness

come not from greed

but human need.

heaven's gate, bustling activity

souls arriving--proclivity

having been long ago

inspired, implanted 

by God Himself.

in the end, 

everything will be OK.
since OK it is not

also not yet the end!

--steveroni

PEEK-A-BOO...I SEE YOU

to cherish forever

we realized

our desire, need, 

for closeness,

attachment,

was because 

we might otherwise

been unable to save

the memory of

our love

this...ahhh

appetence,

longing of

being together

was forbidden

not forsaken.

forgotten? never

nor renounced.

lovers were we of 

impossibility.

paradise here 

and there

predictable, 

inevitable--

neither desisted 

nor ceased

because.... 

could not release

--by a past blogger-friend 

carlo benevento

PLANT A TREE?-- A POEM

California Redwoods

PLANT SEED AND JUMP BACK

find spot on earth

which has no trees

sprinkle flakes of love

plant sprouts or seeds 
(sprouts are simpler)

one-and-half-century will

grow really nice Redwood 

then sit, relax, and 

wait few thousand years 
(heheheh!)

oh! set your chair far back until

in good time, diameter of tree will

build out twenty-three feet or more...

carefully plant yourself....
so butt won't get sore

take a long nap
awaken to new world
where trees create sap
from below and above
when all universe is
sprinkling flakes of love

--steveroni

THIS IS WHERE I PLAY VIOLIN

Posted on Open Link Night 

at the PUB on Tuesday at 3 PM.

Join us please, for week #121

St Elizabeth Seton Catholic Church

Naples Florida USA

STEVE'S MUSIC "JOB"

In order to show my blogging friends one of my weekend activities, I wrote this--funny, at 2 AM it sounded pretty good. NOW I doubt, so it's time to PUBLISH!

Nearly every Saturday or Sunday, in front of that first tall window to right of the altar canopy, stands a man playing a violin--me.
In front of 1,000 seats, some with people--grin!

Eileen, a pianist/organist/choir director and a good musician besides, accompanies me. Four years we've worked together and so we pretty well click musically.

Example of what we will play this week:
the second and third movements of Vivaldi Violin Concerto (a minor).  Other composer favorites of ours (mine--grin!) are Bach, Mozart, Mendelssohn (Songs Without Words), Schubert, Beethoven (from Moonlight Sonata--it is bee-you-tee-full!)...and more. Always more!

Virtual Sheet Music allows me--for a few bucks annually--to download and print literally thousands of all catagories of music. We have a steady stream of different stuff to perform, not all of it "easy".  This keeps me practicing. 

I've been playing violin seventy-four years (started at ahe 5 or 6), and so one might rightly say, "Isn't it about time to quit?"  Sherlock Holmes and Albert Einstein played violin (not duets--grin!) and functioned well until they died--did Sherlock EVER die?

Whatever.  It is fun and rewarding and actually helps some people to pray and meditate (again...me?) before mass begins.  Also I play for weddings and funerals--for the record. HA!

In a former life--grin! I worked as a violinist in Music Hall as a member of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra:

While sitting here wondering what work other bloggers do--everyone simply cannot become wealthy writing poetry!--I blogged my thoughts tonight.  Besides, the poetry muses amused themselves and bemused me until I said "HEY...STOP!"  ...great segue to
ending this post!

PEACE, LIGHT and LOVE, everyone!

--steveroni

REPAIRING CREATION

Posted on dVerse Poets Pub

Open Link Night--WEEK #120

REPAIRING CREATION

finish the job, pick up your toys

gonna be a wet afternoon

let's beat that rain, angel boys

she's comin' mighty soon

(always fixin' things

forever repairing, 

replacing pieces, 

fitting, placing, faring;

wish supper bell 'ud ring)

we're gonna get wet, boys

ya got about a minute...

c'n feel the drops now

damn! we're already in it

(puzzle scene incomplete, 

took too long to find that last piece.

funny--how small missing part,

one slight blemish will thwart

perfection of all universe)

rainin' good and hard now

don't fly away and leave me.

(I), archangel tells you angels

what to do--when--and how

so that's the way it'll be...see?

God sent us on a mission, so

by God, we execute, wet or not.

Slip that piece-puzzle into place

let's go now, back into space.

(frustrated!

job's done, heaven's waitin'.

rather than common angels

i'd sooner be boss of satan

...oh well, wonder what's 

next to fix? 

good lord'll have us

layin' bricks

on mars,

repairin' lights

on stars.)

bye, earth.  we'll be back some day

us angels just cannot stay away

--steveroni

GUIDING LIGHT

Andaman-Nicobar Islands

GUIDING LIGHT

to wring truth

from anything

be ruthless

when weeding

on the way 

yes, i prayed

asked that You

my God be there

trusting, with faith, 

(i rode without fear)

that those nicest two

also listen, also hear

and they did.

so now can believe 
what said here is true!

witnessed a miracle!

love, powerful--

melting iceberg,

my spectacle

time will take time

you'll not be alone

the guiding light 

will see you home

--steveroni

PHEROMONES

DEVIANT ART

PHEROMONES

I yearn.

I return.

Discern

burning

heart-flame.

what is,

which fills this space

where I work and play

all--and each--day?

exhale

expel             

can feel it,

            and smell

pheromonally-enhanced

nitrogen, oxygen.

Breathe, steve,

entranced!

Inhaling

secreted

attractant--

heaven-scent, (sigh)

overwhelms.

finally have

wholly lived

wholly loved

good-bye!

now die?

--steveroni

Since childhood, scents have been my intriguer--love country odors; skunk, wild onions, chocolate milk, sour cream, musk, a city in early morning, sweat, perfumes. On an elevator I sometimes entertain strangers by naming their perfume.  Hence, when I discovered a blog post titled Pheromones, a short poem began to form.

FAR OUT

Published for Open Link Night, 

week #119, in dVerse Poets Pub

Pic Art--click ETERNITY

ETERNITY

do you have a few minutes?

SURE!

wait--are you certain?

how do you know if

there's time to stay...

or is it time to go?

Alpha, Omega

in between EVERYTHING,

this very moment--

it's where Eternity lives.

chocolate cookies,

soft breeze,

kind words, dreams,

hope, love.

below? above?

a loosened leaf 

floats onto grass.

yet ALWAYS is now!

past, future

exist not.

when time 
shall be stripped away,

neither before nor after

 left standing--

eternal, spiritual life

evermore. FOREVER.

no beginning!  no end!

...and joy, 

happiness therein

is but,

and only,

first and last...

--LOVE

--by steveroni

HAPPY ENDING...SHORT STORY

Posted--a day late!--in dVerse

ALL IS WELL THAT ENDS WELL

This is one of a thousand fond memories

About five years ago I was playing (violin) a gig on the top floor of a newly-constructed-but-not-quite-finished luxury condominium.  Prospective wedding clients of mine--she and her fiance--drove there to audition me on penthouse balcony overlooking miles of sandy beach and sea.

I passed the test!  They hired me on the spot, and paid me half the fee in advance, to play the music for their wedding.  Two months later, the to-be bride called me.  Through tears she said the not-to-be groom had jilted her.   She asked if I'd return her deposit. I usually do not return deposit money, but she melted my heart--not a difficult task--grin!--and I sent her the check.

Two years later she asked me to play for her "for sure" wedding (another groom!) to be celebrated on the beach.  She recalled that I had returned her money.  I told her my fee had risen...by one dollar--she laughed.  As we were talking, I jokingly mentioned that she probably "...won't remember what I look like, but I'll be the fellow wearing a tuxedo, carrying a violin."

Her instant response, "Well, you won't remember me either, but I'll be the girl with the sweaty armpits!"

(She became a most happy-and-pretty bride on the beach at Naples' Lowdermilk Park that day, May 14, 2005...and nobody realized she was wet under her arms, except the violin player, me--steveroni)

<a certified reworked re-post--Steve E>

Mooooo

Things could be worse!

Image:

magpie tales week190

"H E L P !"

I see them 

coming, in the light 

one carries milk bucket

other, a bridle and saddle.

me won't know whether 

to kick or bite

HELP! YELP!

INCOME TAX EXTENSION--LAST DAY

OK, I have hired an accountant this year 

to help me with taxes.
Introducing:
SAM HAMSTER
Accounting Master recently retired from

U.S. Internal Revenue Service

CONVERSATION

"Hurry up, Sam!", I shouted

"I am, I am", he said.
"taxes due last April--
then I heard you mention
a six-month extension."

"OKAY, so why aren't they done, son?"

"Hey, I'm just a one-man Ham.
gimme a little space
you can SEE I'm in a jam
what a MESS, this place.

"Today is Saturday. I
Promise to be done soon...
If ya get off my back,
By Tuesday at noon."

"So," I explained, "let's quit
this silly writing and get to work.
Don't want the IRS to see us shirk.
We're gonna do it fast,
even if only half-as*ed."

--steveroni

QUOTE: 
"Friends say I procrastinate--NO!
I just do things at the last minute!"

PEACE and LIGHT!

TIME? Magpie #189

Time...suggested by photo on MAGPIE for Mag #189

image by crillib 50

TIME

Woe is me!

Time is against me

Time is my enemy

Time is that troubling 

"dimension", which I

sometimes question

We call it morning (12 AM)

during darkest night.

Time...a calendar counter

measures everything;

sports, music, industry, science.

Then, there is:

"BE ON TIME, YA HEAH?"

Yesterday and Tomorrow--

are they part of time?

Is time a fundamental 

structure of the Universe?

OR simply is it

"time that keeps everything

from happening at once"?

(Maybe Eternity is now.)

Does this moment have 

no true beginning, nor end?

Forgive me, clocks, but I 

believe you're all phonies. 

Has anyone else arrived

almost before they left?--grin! 

Mind-boggling, I tell you!

Say "old man" if you like

but it's the body which is old.

Not me!  I feel like we shall all

"Live Forever"

PEACE and LIGHT! 

--steveroni

CANDID CAMERA

HOLD STILL! 

LOOK UP! 

SMILE!

Awww....forget it---just look natural, 

do what you are doing, OK?

click....click....click.  Thank you.  

Got a GoooD shot!

I posted this in your bathroom mirror.

GO LOOK NOW!!

--grin.

--steveroni

PINK UMBRELLAS

Every Tuesday is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub

TUESDAY @ 3 PM Eastern doors open for OLN week #116

PINK UMBRELLA

she drops something, a purse?

every day I see her

on my way. I greet her. (wave!)

she, shuffling along--

while speeding in other direction

me, singing a song, or whistling

a few seconds, I make U-turn,

picking up heavy, sagging bag.

strap it on and ride

to catch the caravan.

six smiling children and mom

escorting to school the two...

beautiful sight to behold

and I think of you.

family needing shoes and shorts,

as tears slide down your cheek.

no fancy satin, lace, 

(but each--clean face!)

I observe how

in warding off early morning sun

each older holding finely made (gifted) umbrella

over heads of younger--they all move as one.

first fearful, (children often balk),

each has to climb my bike to see

if their feet might reach the walk.

none.  but leaving "presents" for me

by rubbing faces on leather seat

speaking in only language we know:

laughter and smiles everywhere,

mom happy with her bag. oh's and ah's

from kids. mom's only refrain

"gracias...gracias!"

walking away from me,

seven flower-pink umbrellas

--steveroni

♥

Every morning I see near a dozen families 

walking one or two children to school--but   everybody--young and old gets to go, enjoy the morning air, sunshine. Mother and little ones pushing other littler ones in carriages.

Our neighborhood is multi-racial and multi-national, many immigrants from S America, Cuba, Mexico, Portugal, Haiti, Jamaica...and we all get along. 

daily, these meetings are my morning prayer

Poor, yes. But rich?...OHH, YESSS!

♥