HIS NAME WAS "LUCKY"

Lucky, a Rhodesian Ridgeback / German Shepherd combo, a "Rescue Dog", owned by Anna's daughter, 

a teacher in South Korea. Anna has been caretaker-caregiver  for three years.  It is a hard day for her.

21 February 2014

LUCKY

Everyone agreed it was best
For Lucky to have final rest.
Only age five
So alive
Too young to die
(sigh)

Cancer struck him down
In his leg bone found.
Fast moving, aggressive
He, never depressive
Just ran out of steam
(sigh)

So now he breathes his last.
It all happened so fast
In just over thirty days
Dirty cells had their ways
Yesterday, kissing him
Today.....missing himSO MUCH!

Oh, my....
LUCKY! (sigh)
Good-Bye.
--Steveroni

LADY IN GREEN

Thursday...

IT had been said of her

by those who had seen--

stay away from, steer clear

of lady draped in green.

In line, we; in front, she

--just another civilian who

stood there--vexed,

waiting to hear magic word,

"NEXT!"

Drug dealer (Walgreen pharmacist!)

finger-beckoned her

100 pounds of weighted bone,

four-feet-four tall, obvious narcissist

Floor-tiles shined where she walked,

all eyes tried to look away...

she and drug guy talked...talked

(this client will "make his day".)

"...but my insurance should cover..."

"Not quite, Ma'am, there's 21¢ left over."

"But--but that's not correct, it is..."

She'd fought for right until noon,

when an argument ensued

which was not to end soon.

Finally she said, "Screw YOU, Dude!"

Drug man yelled, "NEXT!"

(called ME???)

Lady did not budge.

I pretended to text...

tried not to judge--grin!

with no sorrow I left, 

said, "Be back tomorrow".

Friday...

11 AM, entered, 
advanced to

front-and-center

Walgreen Drugs--

(do I now LIVE here?)

Into the queue I leaned,

hoping not to be seen

by any in front of me...

whence splash of green?

Oh No! Oh No! Oh No!

And I had to remind

myself, be kind.

Love one another.

PEACE...LIGHT.

YEAH...RIGHT.

--Steve Elsaesser/steveroni

♥

Story is  true. 
Two cloudy days
made people blue.
HELLO SUNSHINE!

THE WAY I SEE IT

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The Mill, 1964, Andrew Wyeth

MY NAME IS GLASS

Laughing on the outside,

crying on the inside..

when will these people 

just leave me alone?

They insist on "being close" to me,
breathing hot air on me 

like "closing in" on my privacy.

It was OK until they turned up the heat

one side of me feels like broiled meat!

They breathe hot and cold

For me it gets so old,

the way they steam up my pane

so even I can't see the lane

Must I be always relegated to

warm on inside, cold on outside?

wet on inside, as laundered curtain  (ACHOOO!)

See? I'm catching a cold--or is that YOU?

Ahhhh soon again it will begin

that "...Sumer is icumen in..."

Steveroni

DAY ONE

In early 1963--Robert Roy (Rob-Roy) Ozmer (1899-1969) was the hermit I flew to Florida to visit. After a $15 boat ride, and swinging a bottle of Bacardi Rum, he allowed the guide and me to step on his island. We spent the day...it was when I entertained the notion of joining him, about three islands away. My wife (deceased now) and I moved from Cincinnati Ohio to Florida the following year

Rob Roy Ozmer (1899-1969)

DAY ONE

Family, friends, home, 

job, boat, bike, violin

all left behind

I sat on edge

of one water-lapped shore

ten thousand sand-mounds

rising above salted spray,

called by natives--eye-lands"

only me...and God!
an adult playing "hermit game"

NOT really odd

many others try the same

and never return.

dropped off in

uninhabited place,

to stay ten days.

friends scoffed

I lost face

AFTERNOON:

unbridled happiness!

I ran, frolicked in surf.

immediate unfathomable

pain.  Water, bright red 

stain.  I had been romping

on "razorblades"

in Everglades (ha!)

on long-dead

under-sea

oyster bed.

no medicine. very risky.

feet bottoms cut to ribbons.

wasted quart of good whiskey

(meant for use--internal)

on throbbing cuts.

hurt like the dickens

LATER:  

AM local radio announced

Tropical Depression near, 

water level rode up slanted beach

and rain torrents tore away my tent.

all proving true my greatest fear...

3 AM: 

awakened from my usual coma

to flurry of excitment, sounds.

accompanying strangest aroma,

another uncharted storm 

invaded my sacred hermitage

brought with it horrors unbelievable!

head the size of your own--

with wide beak, like newborn bird. 

eyes tearing, screams pierced my

solitary Universe...

hallucination it was not!

A giant sea turtle was begging 

me to leave her special nest

--where for several hundred years
in that same spot

she'd been laying, covering

her eggs. 

I saw her flailed legs,

mine, failed.

I...falling, falling,

all became still.

END OF DAY ONE

story is true, summer of 1967.

I spent ten days as hermit.

although the First was Worst...

NEVER again!

--steve elsaesser, aka steveroni

come visit dVerse Poets Pub

TRUE COLOR

Somewhere in the Universe

is being shown truth 

as it is--

in guise

of surprise

yet with little fear

does reality appear

even though, like new song

it was here all along

those colors I see

by either sight or light

did never seem

in wildest dream

of truth,

in youth

but are Face of God

being shown 

being sewn

into my memory

--steveroni

week #129 Open Link Night @ The Pub

la-de-da-de-da-de-da

Musician in the Rain

--Robert Doisneau

la-de-da-de-da-de-da

Along came a crazy-like fellow

Pulled her strings lest she bellow

At first she turned yellow,

Began to slowly mello

(His girl--she's built like a cello)

'rick-a-roni

Remember the joke:
Dad:"What you want to be one day, son?"
Son: "I wanna grow up and be a musician!"
Dad: "Well, ya can't do both."

--steveroni

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AN ORDINARY TUESDAY..

A DAY IN THE LIFE/DEATH OF....

Aurora sees our Sea of Grass happily swaying.
For winter in SW Florida we have a saying:
"Ho-Hummm!"
Season has little affect on life's daily mundane:

what, who and whether--decisions made:
light blue jackets, green shoes, feathered hats?
In balmy south florida even little black gnats
continue staging nightly crusades.

On this day...

St Ann school yard: properly-uniformEd girls,
knee-length skirts, white blouses 'neath curls, 
tiny brown shoes running in small world, a'skelter. 
All making wonderful noise.
Attempting same time perfect poise! HA! 
No need today for indoor shelter.
Boys over there, giving not a whit...
playing baseball, yelling "Foul!"
"NO! (dammmit!) It's a hit!" 

An ordinary day? Yes!

A hundred people walk reverently past this scene
ostensibly unseen, to gather, remember and adore 
in chapel, seating 50 souls, standing 50 more.

(They never realize)
when one of us has died
we each die a little inside.
and early we all rise 
to show up
to own up
as what each agree,
"next one could be me."
--steveroni

"He taught us little; but our soul
Had felt him like the thunder's roll."
--Matthew Arnold

Written on occasion of a memorial mass for a friend--sober 31 years--who drifted away, and isolated from his program. and could not deal with life on life's terms. 
He blew his head off a week ago.

"Remember we deal with alcohol: Cunning, Baffling, Powerful. Without help it is too much for us..."
--Alcoholics Anonymous pp 58-59 (italics mine)

ANOTHER SUNSET 2

Posted ON and FOR dverse

"Open Link Night" #128

(reposted and edited from OLN week #9)

PHOTO: LAST NIGHT FROM OUR FRONT YARD

pics

of sky--

for this guy,

way

too much.

wish no more

for

to grace

my blog space.

scene

from street

where I greet

a

sober

october.

my
prayer:
ev'ryone

live
for now.

and above

all--
 asking
                     Peace.
                                   Light. 
                                               Love.

--steveroni

REAR VISION II

T
his is NOT Florida--it just FEELS like this today

Cold Outside--Wear Socks!

What happens when I leave late

for an appointment, job,

concert, meeting, class, date?

Wellll......

I just step on the gas.

Beautiful is Christmas light,

blinking red, blue, white.

WAIT!

Do I see all that prettiness

in my side mirrors?

atop fast-moving car?

_________________________

Almost gave stupid reason

to polite deputy-lady;

BUT...

caught myself just in time

with this rather tepid line:

Ma'am, record low temps, so COLD,

and me, I'm so OLD

I was going way, way too 

FAST

So as not to exhale my last

wind-chilled breath

In newly frozen tundra of South Florida

Mountains, aka Everglades

WHAT?

Honey, you think it's funny? 
Is what you're saying to me,
LIKE
"Sir, get on your bike--

go, and sin no more?"

Thank you officer, and

Happy New Year also to you,
Deputy-Ma'am.........

steveroni

Open Link Night (OLN) @ dVerse Poets Pub

REAR VISION

Story I posted on steveroni

3 years ago. I decided this is my 

message for January 2014. 

The story is true. Are not most?

CHANCE MEETING?

There sat old man, 

sun-cracked face 

sitting on huge rock

higher up than lower mountains. 

With clouds below so beautifully formed, 

I asked if he'd take my photo. 

He agreed as I held out my camera. 

So I was thinking

...better not do this.

He was ready to focus, 

when arms and shoulders 

began shaking 

in near-violent manner. 

I grabbed for my camera,

but the look on his face 

told me to hold back, 

allow him to snap a picture.

He did.

He smiled.

I smiled.

Each looked into other's eyes 

as tears fell upon high land. 

We both again smiled, shook hands,

exchanged blessings, 

whispered our "good-bys". 

He has a happy, as do I. 

Tonight, asking

"Have I been friendly today...

to whoever needed a friend?" 

I wonder about the man 

who was so far 

from any sign of human life, 

on top very high mountain.

Remembering its thinness, 

air (sigh) sweet-smelling.

Like jasmine. 

I had rested long enough! 

Sorry

I climbed so high...

...Or AM I ?

--steveroni

image credit

DAY ONE 2014: RESOLUTION and LOVE POEM

ON THIS DAY

yes, i know of 
"skin-on-skin",

your own and mine.

touch of another is

plan of divine

one other thing
which i miss--

that lovely kiss

which gives ring

its meaning.

yearning your hug,

body to cover me

as warm fine rug.

such dream can be

but fantasy

allure...

i conjure

your scent, your smile,

your laughing eyes

your counsel wise.

things you do
(and also me)

when away from...
yet once together

freely be we.

i've been won.

it is done

these are part of why

there's this love--you and i

through, with, and into

eternity sublime.

unmeasured.

untimed.

belief, even more,

keep me alive.

on these i thrive

Steve E

1/1/2014

THE INTERVIEW

A HAPPY LIFE...THEIRS AND MINE

Several years I taxied people to their work at a hotel laundry five days each week--and picked them up after their job. The four of them were "mentally challenged", in slang words, "retarded". The trip each way lasted nearly an hour. Coaches and counselors worked with these people regularly, but on these long rides, I could not help myself from an attempt at entertaining them--helping them to be happy, rather than bored or despondent.

A small pocket-sized tape recorder did the trick. Me, the driver, became Steve, the radio interview guy. Interviewing each in turn, I asked questions about their lives, work, parents, home, goals. After each taped interview, I'd play it back so all five had opportunity to hear each other's "life story". This went on for a number of months, before we all tired of it, ran out of questions as well as responses.

Typical interview began simply:

Q. Hello what is YOUR name?
A. Da-Low-Russ!
Q. And Delores, what do you do?
A. Work!

And progressed in a week, to somewhat more revealing details:

Q. Dolly, (we had changed her name from Da-Low-russ...) what do like to do at home?
A. Help my sister clean house and do dishes. I like doing that. She wants me DON'T BREAK ANYTHING! I love my sister.

Q. John, what do you do in your spare time?
A. Well (ahem!) Steve...(pause, clearing throat)

I-I-I  d-do a little bit of this,

a little bit of that,

and little bit of everything else!

NOTE:
After many days, our interviews got so complicated, that I'd write out questions for them at night at home...to keep the connection--and the fun--going.

These four (I remember their names even now, after 20 years!) changed over the course of time...and so did I.  We became a closely knitted group, we prayed, talked, joked, and laughed together...a LOT!

I grew to love my "crew". One, a tiny, old black guy, was a deaf-mute...never looked up, never smiled, or joined in. I discovered that he might hear some things, because sometimes--in my rear-vision mirror--I caught him smiling at something which was repeated on tape. But he never spoke, although I had a feeling he could. There had probably been some trauma in his life. 

To this day, when someone asks me what I did for my life's work, I answer, 

"Oh...a little bit of this, 

a little bit of that, 

and little bit of everything else!"

Steve E
Sunday December 22, 2013

MERRY CHRISTMAS

A CHRISTMAS STORY

Little ones--picture this sight:
Bethlehem shook, shivered
as Child born that night

Inside  stable--the real Body and Blood,
inside His little chest, enough warm love  
to make water out of snow,
to engulf whole world, wholly blest
with gifts--eternal Heart-flow 

Roused from unblanketed sleep
by angelic music of highest fidelity,
groupings of old shepherds and sheep
found their way to barn, breathlessly. 

And warmly and warm,
seated on frosted grass
they attended
first midnight mass

animals knowingly bent
their knees to witness
most spectacular event:
birth of the One
Who am, which God had sent.

Watch what happened next!
They rode in with the wind--no
scooters, but on camels--sat

three smartest guys
one totally black,
one with squinty-eyes...
gifts in their sack.

Many weeks, many miles
they had day and night
 followed slow-moving 
sky light 

and now gazed,
amazed--
at Most Bright...

Lamb of God met
face-to-face with 
 blind mankind. 

Sun rises
sun sets.
But this Son
would shine forever.

During brief span of time,
barely third of a century
he spent humbly sublime.

He found donkey and mounted.
Rode through crowded street.
"Hail, King" they shouted.
Thousands people did greet
along the way--as by now

that little babe, 
child of wonder
had become a man.

Only a few days later body broken asunder
he died to loud sounds--
tympanic thunder.

Curtain ripped and
dropped. Earth moved.
Darkness descended.

a life
suddenly thwarted 
in a single moment 
stopped

--and started


--by Steve E
edited and reposted from december 2012

HITCH YOUR WAGON TO A STAR

Scene near Pakistan farm

after traveling couple thousand miles 

i am tired. besides that, 

i have sand in my eye.

my feet are hurting, i

just wanna lay down and die.

we could not find our way

through the storms.

i heard some say

we'd got lost

one of the leaders

witnessed strange bright

at night, continuing

through next day.

in order to follow the light

our whole armada changed course.

it just seemed serene,

to be guided by Something

after one year, star

ceased movement

that day the world stopped

and fear overtook us

humps (we called ourselves "humps"!)

men began to run, we camels 

right behind...as if chasing. 

and all hearts beat

in rhythm with feet.

ending near a barn, late,

we'd missed act one, fate?

my masters got to meet with 

some Baby King--in secret. 

somehow tiredness disappeared,

sand blew out from my eye

people all said such nice things, 

finally--finally said good-bye.

i drank 50 gallon of water, (in 3 minutes!) 

became ready for a journey. 

prior heavy burden miraculously 

transformed to lighter load.

this time, no star--

i knew the road.

how honored, we--to have been

chosen actors in an ageless story!

me, i'm an old hump, almost 50...

but looking back at everything,

my whole life through--

deep down I knew

that i'd been given 

an opportunity to serve

my--and your--heavenly king.

--STEVE E

ONE in FIFTY-FIVE

--Drawing/Painting by one FAVORITE blogger--Claudia

"From my sketchbook/two women at the neighbor table"

When chest feels empty

due to hurting heart,

public library becomes solace…

turning to prayer

holding book to me tightly,

turn page and read:

Amazing! that E V E R Y T H I N G

affects everything else,

is dependent or depends on...

and I alone–as hermit,

missed the whole meaning of

Ocean Universe

in which all things are….

One         

--by steveroni 

(inspired by Claudia!)

55 words exactly--that what we doing at dVerse today...Join us?

PASSING THIS WAY AND THAT

POEM


at age six 
I ran away from home.
it's hard to run away
when not even allowed 
to cross the friggin' street,
for to meet 
patient destiny

life's ageless span
daily became same:
flurried blurs,
factasy avowed
to who--and you,
while crossing
our own avenue

brief--duration of life
yet painfuly slow,
filled with strife
when time to go.
ought I...cross this path?
thought I, "no"...hmmm!

"I no longer love her
that's certain...
but maybe I do love her?
--love is so short
forgetting is so long *"
*Pablo Neruda, 1904-1973

near age something-nine
oh yes! I felt fine.
in unison voices...loud!
hear them! “run, run, feet.
but don't cross that street!”

sweetest bird-sounds,
violin among tall trees
ashes and butterflies
together flew by--
a brother deceased,
un-wombed...
spread by breeze,
entombed
in the universe

whispered to me
in foreign code,
“...do not cross that road!”

steve e
as edited from one april 2012 posting


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub
OpenLinkNight -week #125
every Tuesday,
starting at 3 pm EST.

HEADLINES

THE WEAKLY[sic] NEWS
HEADLINES

monday the first:

beneath shoulder blades

two knives sheaved...

as life faded

body fell...heaved

monday the eighth:

WHO stole body

perfumed...

the same recently

exhumed?

monday the fifteenth:

WHO set in small boat

and left adrift

'neath blanket and coat

dear widow swift?

monday the twenty-second:

story of biblical moses

is what here exposes

"swift" killer:  a community pillar,

none other than rev'rend miller

--steveroni

_______________________________

Posted for magpie tales 

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imagination in words, 

poetic or not