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My post today will not be published on dVerse, because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
♥

SCHOOL'S OUT...SCHOOL'S OUT

ding-dong...ding-dong...ding-dong

the first day of school

fearful, careful, we

as year one progressed

mingled less and less

until by following may

heard oldsters shout

school's out, school's out

teachers eating sauerkraut

final bell rang

we first graders,

now promoted,

in unison sang

school's out, school's out

teachers eat sauerkraut

(yuk! we said then)

me, alone as usual, 

ran fast from school 

that last spring day

on way home.  stopped 

to rest in hidden woods

at favorite gurgling brook.

mentally 'visioned there

six black-clothed nuns

in their dining cubicle,

saying a blessing prayer

enjoying vacation lunch

MENU:

....sauerkraut!

In gladness for all teachers who vacate their classrooms and move to other activities--it is a happy time, sprinkled with touch of nonchalant sadness. Enjoy your sauerkraut--with apple, sausage, onion, or.....
LOVE and PEACE

--steveroni

picture: Google Images

DINNER AND TAXI...$2

Posted for dVersePoets Pub
Open Link Night Week #102
(Starts Tuesday at 3 PM Eastern)

THE BUCK STOPS HERE (by steveroni)

REMINISCENCES

In 'days of olde',
petticoats, in fashion,
a skirt beneath the skirt.
Grandma sewed money into
hem of her underwear.

Two dollars--stitched, or not--
in year 1890 would buy dinner and a
cab ride home, tip included.

Intention was to "save" her from
an embarrassing date situation.
I "KNEW" my grandma, and would
wager everything--that she in her 18th year
might have preferred a few "dangerous" 
occasions over solo taxi trips home.

By 1960  $2  bought a bottle of
Liebfraumilch, with change left over.
I always knew (on visits to Cincinnati)
where I could find two bucks.
(Slip-sewed $2 became a lifelong habit
of Grandma's.)  If there were 2 petticoats
(slips) I bought TWO bottles.  However,
by then I was heavily involved with
muchas otras cosas...

These years since--searching for money--I've 
habitually (not obsessively!) examined female undergarments...never found a single cent.  Note...I do NOT miss the days of corsets, garter belts, stockings, and could well do without the skimpier items which--smaller than my handkerchief--are now so popular.
My one-word mantra: NAKED!

As a small child I was intrigued by women wearing corsets, garter belts, stockings, harness collars (now called "bras"!), and NO, I NEVER WORE ANY OF WOMEN'S STUFF.  OK? (Smiles!)

I DO remember having an "affinity" (love affair) once with this girl who heavily sedated herself with Coty's Emeraude perfume.  I used to douse a handkerchief with the stuff, and tuck it under my chin when playing violin in the symphony.  ("Inspiration" comes in various forms?)  A few of the musicians looked askance.  But then, as now, I did not give a Royal "F" about what people might have thought or said.

If anyone thought I was crazy (I am!), they only sat for a moment with "me" on their minds.  Because most people think--97% of the time--about THEMSELVES.  By internalizing that thought my paranoia was cured for all time.  What FREEDOM!

Think what $2 would buy today in USA? 
Maybe a 15-stick pack of Wrigley's Bubble Gum?  
I want some of that now. 
Where's Grandma when you need her?  
(Rest her blessed soul.)

Rambling, I notice, so it's time to go.  
See y'all next time.  
Love and PEACE!

--steveroni

good boy--bad boy

THE GOOD

Something Happened

"He's a good boy."  That's what people said.  I pretended to not hear them.  Did not want to be a "good boy".  The "bad boys" got the choicest girls, attracted attention of teachers, police, school principals.  They were known, recognized, even liked, praised.

Those--like me--who always said, "thank you", "please", and "excuse me" were not chastised for our behavior? Same old hated--in those words, "He's a good boy."

When alone, I would loudly say "Damn", "Fart" and "Fuck".  Then, as I turned age 10, I tried, tried hard, to become a "bad boy".  But I was not properly accepted, acclaimed, liked. People only laughed at me, saying, "Look at that good boy trying to act bad."

I kept on proving to myself and anyone else that I WAS bad, became a real drunk, and I existed with the emotions of a 15-year-old for the next 25 years.

Two things I wish to mention.  At age 15, when I REALLY began my BAD life, all those other "bad" guys became good guys, earned post-grad degrees with honors.  They got good jobs, stayed married, raised families "properly", became owners of successful businesses or respected elected officials (HA!).

By age 40, in poor health, I was stealing in order to support a rather expensive drug-and-booze habit.  Life continued--then Something happened!  I got well, began living with a gusto like never before, happily enthusiastic about EVERYTHING!  What that Something was is between me and It...but I always now capitalize the word Something.

--steveroni

AGELESS AGE

Beginning 3 PM Tuesday June 18
OpenLinkNight, Week #101 

@ dVerse Poets Pub

"ROCKY-TOP" Fireplace in each of 

630 Cracker Barrel Restaurants

in 42 states

LIVING IN AN AGELESS AGE

Been told, "so old,
more than old
--like tree mold"

This afternoon, in Cracker Barrel
restaurant, as blood vessels
welcomed plaque-reducing dinner:
fried chicken, mac-n-cheese, etcetera...

I sat--still old. Now
with added bold--
glanced "knowingly" through windows;
out in spoiling sunshine,
spotted our car.  Wondered I: 

"When did we get here? 
Which direction is the hotel?
What city did we stay last night?
Who are we visiting tomorrow?

"Is 'time' real?
Is UNIVERSE for real?
Is this TRUTH:   when
all is gone of push and shove,
remaining only and exclusively
shall be...LOVE?"

Anna returned from the "powder room"
--immediately I laughed, realized my
predicament, grabbed ahold
of my brain--remember? old mold?
--and holding my gold cross,
said to her, "Hey, we ARE in Naples?? 
We're Home!  RIGHT?"

Youthful laughter from she,
even more from heart-warmed ME!

who neither sane 
nor senile
be

--steveroni
LOVE and PEACE!

FINALLY

See my friends having fun at dVerse Poets Pub

Open Link Night...week 99!!!

Pixel People Perfection

THE LAST WORD

Ambulances flying,
then--cannot move .
People dying
roadways blocked

Symphony of cacophonies
all directions. Beeping horns,
braking wheels. Squeals of 
injured--oh! the blood one sees.

Rain drops forming little craters 
in pools of paling redness...
under cycle sitting marbleized,
waiting. Waiting, watching.

Wishing to be mobilized, 
to seek an overpass for
shelter. Stuck in the mud, 
no, stuck in the blood. 

Everywhere, stinky, sticky,
gooey--WAIT! That's MINE!
My life juice, mingling with
Rain water--Earth's life-juice.
What the fuck...

Bike tire looks pink. Maybe
angel wings? I think
one of those dying--is me.
Voices everywhere:  

"Slippery street. 
Poor fella  couldn't stop,
just slid under that truck.
Cover him with your umbrella."

"My window was open,
his last word I heard--
He simply said....
"What the fuck!"
And then I saw this 
big smile on his face."

--steveroni
6/5/13

Trying to recall an accident scene in which the biker died only several yards from me. Mingling that with story of my own accident 1½ years ago. NoFunAtAll...

ON A MIDNIGHT DARK AND DREARY--grin!

If a get a minute, slip on over to dVerse Poets Pub and see what's going on--it's OLN (Open Line Night) # 98.

ODE TO COIN LAUNDRY

 midnight.

swish swash

to'nFro

flosh, slosh

smash.

swishy-slosh

on'nOn

splash and 

sounds of SHHH-SHHH-SHHH!

slippery slope

round'nRound, back, forth

and again.....

too much soap!

Whirring, whirling

pocket full of bits (two at a time)

insert one at a time

heating. hot.

coffee! 

more, more coffee!

laundry-peep i'm not.

now one o'clock, 

to the dot.

la quinta, la quinta

i sing your song

soon be asleep...

all morning long.

--steveroni

a memorable weekend in virginia with poet extraordinaire brian, his wife, two sons, and prayer girl--i'm recalling now with fresh, clear mind, sitting in a motel laundry on 2nd floor...i do believe they tried to kill me!  

walking, hiking a "quarter mile"--which became nearly 3 miles?-- urging me to chase a momma duck and her babies, or roll down a steep, grassy mountainside (didn't do it!) freezing (64 deg. one evening)? "forcing" me to eat shovelfuls of gourmet burgers, poor dead chicken (cooked!), Italian sausages in a bed of angelic (ACHOO!) hair, and other epicurean delights, i managed to add 5 pounds to my avoirdupois.

a most fortunate man i am to have spent truly scintillating few days as house guest of the nicest hostess, host and entertaining, well-mannered young boys. 

two years back-to-back, they've allowed me to invade their happy nesting place. will they never learn? hmmm? I HOPE NOT! Thank you, Brian Family! It is an honor to know you all--or, as your wife might say, "y'all?"

Steve E
may 2013

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)