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

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