FLY ME TO THE MOON

This is a re-worked poem from several 

years ago--I wrote then under an alias...

Picture Credit

LOVE BIRDS

rode with the wind

flew out in style

brother, I've sinned,

loved every mile

we slept on 

beach, bench,

tall building beams.

down, to mountain streams

flew with feathered beaks 

to quench thirst, then we

soared over highest peaks.

breathless, stopped to rest,

flapped wings, other things,

there built our love nest

there exchanged our rings.

oh my love, you remember

moments, we held no bars,

sweetest nights of December

full moon dressed in stars?

you wondered then

if we'd ever

be human again--

whether we could sever

ourselves from 

living and loving 

in birdland...

away from fantasy life we 
flew     

for that's what true love birds

                                            do

--steveroni

REALITY...the UNIVERSE

ROOTED in REALITY  

"Moments of perception can build into 

a lifetime of spiritual serenity, 

as I have excellent reason to know.  

Roots of reality,

supplanting the neurotic underbrush

will hold fast despite the high winds 

of the forces which would destroy us, 

or which we would use to destroy 

ourselves.

--Bill Wilson, 

letter, 1949

Picture Credit, click HERE

WORDS OF THE ARTIST,  Thomas Jergel

"This is a conceptual piece I made.

It is all about how I feel everything is rooted in reality and connected, 
the tree rooted in the ground, 
the birds attracted to the tree, 
the light bringing an otherwise dull tree a beautiful glow along
the mysteriously atmospheric and beautiful dark reds of the sky.

The roots of the tree is also depicted 
as being connected to human beings 
with the roots connecting with a bodypart, 
which bodypart it actually is, I'm not telling 
because I want you to make up your own thoughts 
about what might best connect 
the trees and nature to us humans."
(Slightly edited)

MAG #183: PASSING PLACE

Published to Magpie Tales. 

Picture-inspired write. Do it, 

then linkyour post to Magpie Tales 

Passing Place -- steven kelly

THE WHITE-COLD MILE

Oh, the cold, freezing chill,

new sign on weathered post,

snow pockets white on hill,

I'm ready for the roast...

One remaining expectation

while shivering, shuddering,

thinking, riding on this, the

final day-- my cremation.

Here is the place

of lasting passing--

from earth to space

Riding past "Passing Place"

traveling through blasting

northern Decembrrrr air,

under helmet, frozen hair!

Accompanying thoughts of 

a huge pyre, I "see" my 

laughing self happily sitting 

there in splendid, raging fire.

--steveroni

"The Cremation of Sam McGee",
by Robert W Service

influenced this short rhyme.
Identifying thoroughly with the 

poem's protagonist, I continue 

loving to be warm.

LET GO...LET GOD

Photo Credit

I LOVE THIS

Detachment is overwhelming 

ATTACHMENT...to God

So simple, real and true.

steveroni

A FIFTY-FIVE FOR BRIM.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIAN

"Fill it to the rim
...with BriM"
OR...
"Live the full life
..with Brian M."

Today remembers birth
Gather, you fellow d'Verse
Be filled with mirth 

Poets galore
Shop favorite store
and buy presents...

"Haves" and "Have-Nots"
for Kids-and-Tots
Toys for girls and
boys, and Disadvantaged.

Say, "Brian sent these."
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 

--steveroni
Claudia, asked us to write a "55" for Brian's birthday TODAY

Shoot over to dVerse and wish Brian Happy Birthday...and do your  own quick "55" (short "something" in exactly 55 words. Post it, visit dVerse with your link , and join in the party

Also posted on G-Man's "55" Friday blog

Angel Elsa

photo by Elena Kalis

She'd heard about

earth-people's strangeness.

Those who "knew" 

who God had chose".

Yet...

flocking en masse

to tallest-steepled

church on hill

all

gathered as if sepaled;

delaying, ignoring

denying the truth.

She saw...

What else might

Angel Elsa learn

during her visit?

Well?

Mirrors of distortion

were not discussed in

earth-trip orientation.

Poor little angel--

BAM, WHAM! SMASHED

into and beyond.

CRASHED!

"Dammmm.

That's same thing I collided with

last time I was here",

said Angel Elsa

--steveroni

"Angel" post was inspired 

by photo on "THE MAG"

Everyone is invited to

go HERE and follow

simple directions.

It is fun for me,

as you can see
Thanks, Tess

--Steve E

A TREE AND A PALACE

This poem is posted at 

dVerse Poets Pub, 

Open Link Night #108

C'mon and join in the fun!

A TREE 

MYSORE FIG

One hundred seventeen years ago
a slight fig twig arrived by boat
to a settlement near where I now live.

Growing tree sustained wind
damages from many hurricanes
named "Mysore"--NOT for her 
sufferings and broken things.

Annually, thousands come by 
to visit, chat and ogle. 
Owner happily receives all
who stop...except the State
Planners, who want to chop away
Mysore, and expand the roadway.

United States' largest fig tree.
would be no more.
(Never was Mysore
an eyesore.)

A PALACE

MYSORE PALACE

More than seven hundred years ago

a palace was built in a city 

on India's south shore

called Mysore

Living there is one of

generations of royalty who greet

annually ±three million visitors.

City of Mysore is known as
"City of Palaces".

Only one named "MYSORE PALACE".
Second only to TAJ MAHAL

as India's tourist destination.

ONE

Mysore Palace

10,000 miles (15,000 km) 

from Mysore Fig Tree

ONE

Mysore Fig Tree

...and that tree lives

ten minutes from...me!

steveroni

Aug 6, 2013

Mysore Fig Tree in Estero, Florida

Photo by Corey Perrine, 

NAPLES DAILY NEWS 

COMING OUT FROM ISOLATION

Castillo de-San Jjuan-Priorio Asturias
Near Oviedo, north coast of Spain

(Rebuilt as private residence)

A POEM

Sir Castle, you hide

one side of 

your face

with lace 

of Ivy

Mighty Fort, is it blame

or shame 

we're not

allowed 

to see?

Brick and mortar-mud

you stand so 

proud, tall,

and I below

so small...

But as yourself, O great House

I also kept hid within

--transgressions?

(Some call it sin.)

All mine

MY "lace of ivy"

wall covering

is smiley face

of ivory, a mask of

which none dare ask

"Are you OK?"

For years, Sir Castle,

my "house" been under

restoration, renovation:

rain, lightning, thunder...

CHAOS!

Finally, the sun! 

Let Light shine

Let PEACE reign

These days are the very best.

"Take what you need, 

and give back the rest."

--steveroni

Aug 3, 2013

...with the laughing face!

This poem is posted at 

dVerse Poets Pub, 

Open Link Night #107

C'mon and join in the fun!

Awesome Photographer
Please click here
J W HENDRICKS

SOMETHING IN THE WAY SHE SMILED

I see her smiling
that wily eye-stare
looking everywhere
and I wonder...

Is she also seeing me?
Me, the only one who
matters in my Universe?
Maybe not. Yet...maybe.

It MUST be I
(reassurance)
who she spy
says my deviant devil.

I hurry across the field
to other side, and now 
the emptiness of her chair
screams out: SHE IS NOT THERE...

Adrenalin pumps through valves.
Every living cell scrambles to 
restore my HA! cool. AH! THERE!!!
There is SHE! But who is HE?

Star player of wnning team
in three seconds it seems
shattered all my dreams
into tailspins of depression.

Finally--see my lesson

How wrong could ever be
one soul--me--who believed I
was the axis on which the world
turned.
Countless times been 
burned.

Think! If I had but
shut my mouth,
opened my ears,
how much I might have
learned.

PEACE, LIGHT
and LOVE!

steveroni

WE HAVE LIFTOFF! A MAG TALE

This MAGPIE prompt is found HERE, 

and shared by all who wish to 

write a few lines, and "Sign in, please"...

UP, UP...and AWAY-AYYY

Lift us up you
beautiful balloons, to
asteroids, planets, moons
to happy place
in space.

Up, up, and awayyy
baby, maybe
to stayyy?

In our balloon-mobile
together we'd steal
far from the "mirth"
of earth, 
laughing instead
with the stars.

Silently, we sped
on our journey
past planets and rings,
black holes and things.

Days and months
turned into ageless years.
Of never finding way back
became our primary fears

He: Already you "Pop" yearn to return?
She: How do we  "Pop" go back?
Simply "Pop" one balloon,
then "Pop" another...see, we're 
passing Jupiter "Pop" and Mars.

Did "Pop" you enjoy the ride?
Kiss, kiss, kiss--that means "yes"!
Before we land: POPOPOPOPOPOP...
Honey, straighten out your dress

As we lay there 
on the earth-hill, 
grass grew beneath...
we did declare
our love.
So sweet.

Never again did we meet!  

steveroni  :-)

PERSPECTIVES

Welcome to dVerse Poets Pub WEEK #106
Begins Tues @ 3 PM Eastern, 
ends Wednesday Night...JOIN us!

PHOTO by LUCKY (our DOG!)

P E R S P E C T I V E S

A LOT of thought 

I've given to this topic

the past few minutes...

Dog named Lucky

insisted last night

on shooting the moon.

So I handed him my S-4,

heard the SLAM of a shutter

shouted an invective

at Lucky's perspective

There! I see what he sees:

a cat, a fiddle, 

a jumping bovine,

dashing spoon

and blushing dish

all dancing on

robot's yellow nuts.

Lucky? So sweet:

extinguished a fire

at robot's feet

MY PERSPECTIVE 
(just to even the score!)

by steveroni

We gotta stop meeting like this...

posted for MAG # 178 July 21, 2013. 

Go HERE to see what unusual

perspectives arise from this picture

painting by Andrew Wyeth

CONVERSATION

 "HEY Ol' Buddy!

Whatcha doin' out here?

Yo Mommie untie ya 
from that post in the garage?

Yer looking neither cold nor old

so c'mon let's go for a ride...

climb me...ride me. HARD.

My light's burning 

Engine's yearning:

GURRRRING, WHIRRRING

PURRING!"

--steveroni

BEING FULL OF EMPTY

MEDITATION

Light which burst forth--
unable to hold you in my hands
nor learn of you in my mind,
yet this soul seeks, desires

Brightness surrounding! 
Why do I not see it?
Two weeks of work,
where is knowledge?

Empty my head is what you said
I've been trying hard ever since.
Even so, nothing of worth 
has yet entered herein.

What you say to me?

"Well sir--your head is now
so full of empty...
even light cannot find 
space to live."

--steveroni
7/19/13

"...and if there IS a heaven, God..."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY
dVerse Poets Pub
TWO YEARS!

Open Link Night Week #105 

CLICK

My post today will not be published on dVerse, because

I decided it was not appropriate--not a poem, but a list.

KODAK

LETTER TO GOD 

FROM: MY DOG SINDY
(repost from "I don't know where".)

Dear God: Why do humans smell the flowers like I do, but seldom, if ever, smell one another (like I do)?

Dear God: When I get to heaven, can I sit on your couch? Or is it still the same old story?

Dear God: Are there letter-carriers in Heaven

Dear God: From now on, I promise to be a “good” dog. Every morning I review this list

1. I will not eat the cats' food before they eat it OR after they throw it up.

2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.

3. The Litter Box is not a cookie jar.

4. The sofa is not a 'face towel'.

5. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.

6. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad's underwear when he's on the toilet.

7. Sticking my nose into someone's crotch is an unacceptable way of saying 'hello'.

8. I don't need to suddenly stand straight up when I'm under the coffee table.

9. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house - not after.

10. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt.

11. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch.

12. The cat is not a 'squeaky toy' so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it's usually not a good thing. 

P.S.

And, Oh Yes! Dear God: When I get to Heaven may I have my testicles back? OH, Thank You, thank you, THANK YOU!!!

Posted by VERY grateful doggie

NOT A POEM

Please go HERE to read finest poetry.

Open Link Night, week #104 begins at 3 PM

(dVerse Poets Pub)

Nice Picture? Look again, please. How many violins do you count?

MANY THANKS to my friend, Digital Artist DAVE KOSLOSKY!

A TALE OF TWO GRANDMOTHERS 

Both people I knew well, even loved,

in my self-centered way.

Both Grandmothers now dead.

I'll show you them today...

MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER

   

Mixture of English, Irish and Norwegian: 

When this lady checked out of a motel, anyone could have walked righ into the same room, and not known 
it had been occupied the night before. 
You get the picture?

Oh yes, "picture"!! Many Christain believers in that day had hanging in their living room a (famous) picture of Jesus, kneeling at foot of huge stone, several guys (apostles?) in the background. 
This painting was titled AGONY IN THE GARDEN. OK?

Well, one day a door-to-door saleslady came into GM's house, saw that "Agony" scene, blurted out, "Oh, Ma'am, I see you are catholic!"  BIG mistake. My GM turned the picture "face-to-the wall" and remained until her death.

Not wish to bore

y'all any more, so:

to PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER'S house we go!

She, a mixture of GERMAN!

WINTER:  and we did slaughter a couple hogs annually during 1930's and 40's (WWII, ya know?).  GM was on the scene, Jelly Bean (Ooops, no rhyming here!).  Well, GM ("General Manager"???) assembled her pots, pans and kettles and collected everything the farmers left, e.g., intestines, eyeballs, tongue, liver and tail...
and  B L O O D !
UGH!
Grandma cooked for several days, black soup , ingredient, blood; Sausages, ingredients, blood, fat, and maybe--I don't know--curly tail? She believe, to honor the pig--who blessed us with his life--waste nothing--NOTHING!

And then she made us "eat it, or go hungry"...ACHTUNG!
Here Note: I'd slip away, and in the horse barn sit on a bale of hay, and drink Muscatel wine, of which pint bottles were "hidden" in certain selected locations scattered around the farm.

ENOUGH OF THAT...Regarding "Spiritual Angle"--hehe--I must say GM missed not ONE DAY of mass and communion, unless she was very ill. (No wonder she got ill, too much blood?)

SO thence I came
to live in shame
wishing I'd been born a sea turtle
but living in house bathed in crepe myrtle
SEA TURTLES never eat "blood soup"
nor do they eat another's poop
--they live hundreds of years
that's all for now, my dears!

--steveroni 
07/09/2013

TRADED OLD FLEX FOR NEW FLEX II

HEY STEVE, WHAT YOU SO HAPPY ABOUT?

Thursday, "Independence Day" in U.S., 
and I rode to an early meeting

Decided to slip by Florida Motor Sports, 
where I had bought my Suzuki five years before. 
While strolling through the maze/display of bikes,
I heard the voice--a salesperson:

"Hi Steve, What brings you here today?"

"--grin! Just stopped by to have a free cheeseburger."

"When you going to trade in that old scooter?"

"Well, I WOULD like a brand new bike exactly like the one I'm riding, but in white instead of old dirty grey--and I see you do not have that." 
(WHITE is easy for drivers to see a biker at night.)

In the service area, a mechanic was that very moment
uncrating a beautiful white Suzuki Burgman 650cc, ZERO miles.  As you see from the shot above, a happy guy is sitting atop his new bike, christened FLEX II--

I feel like the alcoholic who has absolutely no defense against that first drink, which has been waiting for him all those so many sober years...I had no thought whatever to buy a bike this week. Maybe a lesson for me here?

Thank God I don't have to celebrate with a case of quarts of cheep vodka....or four gallon jugs of White Port HAHA!

(Heck, now I cannot 
even afford a 
gallon of gas 
to run the thing!)

 It's 2 AM. Wishing I didn't have to get some sleep right now. Go riding instead.

Well, my friends, be happy with me. Wishing everyone a stressless, peaceful, joyful weekend. Thank You, God!

Love,
Steve E

SAM I AM

DRINK OR DIE

*no hay agua
no sobrevivir
ni árbol, ni la humanidad
vivirá mucho tiempo 
trans at bottom:

a tree i am, i am.
a tree named sam

i need, i feed.
place where is water
i search for, find,
and drink.
i am tree
i am free

without water, my friends,
--i cannot survive.

sending thin veins, feelers
along;  slowly slinking roots
through mortared maze,
winding, webbing their way,
saying "me first, i thirst"
i am sam, am i....

what manner of city watchdog
would come by with a steel-
shining axe-like implement
to cause my "detriment"?

have you more right to live than me
parts of me make fire
for your warmth
i am lyre whose
owner shall charm
you with song
all along
your dreary life

thousand species use me as home
my branches can become your own
place to live--and love,
under, and/or above.

and even when you die
you'll know why.
i could be
your final earth-residence
where i last remind you
that only god (and Ces!)
can make a tree
---and he made me!

-steveroni

translation:

*no water
not survive
no tree, no human
live long

AWARENESS

For a poet smorgasbord

click right here. for week #93→
Open Link Night OLN 

LIVE FREELY! JOYFULLY!

....WITH AWARENESS....

the man in front of me,

fragrant as well-worn shoe;

dressed(?) like long-term

front line soldier (he was!)

--he was used to it

unfamiliar to water and soap.

many years on the bowery

he lived to cope.

--he was accustomed to it

eyes unseeing at birth

closed tightly as sealed tomb,

hidden and hiding from
a world of beauty

--out of sight, out of mind? (NO!)

always could hear, 

but never to see--

a dearth of unknowing.

--whatcha don't know can't hurt ya.

Years later, unaware yet wary,

of ocean depth and desert dune,

hard realization set in--I also 

had not known what was

happening in my world

--man unknowing

before...now, and possibly

ever and ever--never.

--never say never, ever!

depression, long lurking 

has been set

and been met 

butt-head-on.

--get over it, sir

finally, nearly...then

neatly set itself in-

to my life. need ladder.
NOW! got to climb out.

--put this show on the road

will be better tomorrow.

isn't it always "better tomorrow"?

said miniature self, sitting

on hardwood, oaken shelf.

--listen to conscience...pray!

tomorrow, better, yessss!

make phone call

go to bed......ZZZzzzzzz..........

--it IS "tomorrow" (or today?) 

--all is well which ends well

Let me not think--however some are living, 

however "normal" it may seem to them, 
that they may NOT realize what 

they're missing.   I must believe that, 

with outside help--a Higher Power?

--drastic change WILL be accomplished.

Love and Peace!

--steveroni
♥