it’s only tears

it’s only tears
that make me wish to word so well
the well is deep
temper quell ripped defeat
as laughs are nothing cheap

I look at him
he takes my arm
as if he stroked my cheek from harm
the many months aloof
hadn’t seen him in many a year
wearing tailored suits

and never wore him boots
but custom made shoes
that hid the kid so lovingly
gallant dad uncouth

but for his truth
though thin today still boldly gray
without a word to say
he needs us me and you so much

dinner breakfast lunch
retired to humility
the seamless life of liberty subdued

a thoughtless boisterous melody for all of us to sense
in him vacant memory
that turns attention to the sun a window on the world to catch some warmth
familiar on his pudum

eyes that match the sky
endure the pouring of the rain ignore the bitterness of pain explore a little child’s game

he served out his usefulness
carried his family on his back
never lacking support the needed strain
under the gun of a material
sun summed up his world with
tears that came that I wasn’t his son to fly the flag unfurled
for he is just a man of trust and I his little girl.

write down the prose

write down the prose
in sweet repose
try to sleep
I count on you sheepishly

ensconced in deepest grief
I know not why
that I should cry
the colors dance on walls

red green purple blue
vivid retreat and overalls
the view won’t let me close my eyes
there’s no one I must compromise

no plunge off peers
I talk to my heart with sympathy
buy myself some Tiffany
read a chapter capture laughter

eat a dish of something rich
the night is still
salvage tears
get on scale-
more tears

a lone girl wolfs down her meat
she is discreet wants to be alone
explore the stainless refrigerator
steal immoral morsels of food
no one looking she can’t be rude

cover from head to toe with lotion
dry as sandpaper-parched as parchment
what ever became of the little girl from Larchmont? we moved to Greenwich-

I remember the gold inlay on the rectangular marble table-the knotted wool karistan the Stuebin
on the break front-dad winding the Tiffany clock-mom painting on the round kitchen table-

then at 5 o’clock mom sautéing one of her famous concoctions while dad poured himself 2 fingers-

I was able to have an open mind-I was capable
sleepy time tea occasionally camomile
milk and honey on the other side of the fridge
yogurt berries banana granola
wait till they go then have your cola

relationships-tell new friends I’d like to get to know ya-
adapt to others with ebb and flow
don’t cry in front of a guy
hold on to yourself till he leaves and then fall apart

he didn’t want your heart just a field day with
your body
so much sadness no party

East Hampton winters a comfort
living humble in my Ponderosa
organic French roast coffee 2% milk
updated phenomenal kitchen in 2 weeks
2 happy 2 be sad.

gratitude for all you do

gratitude for all you do
to care for the meek and mild
to walk that extra mile
upbeat with a smile

all the while missing
the ones that always listen
everything good

you came into this world
brave little trooper that you would

let go the disappointment
you are as clear as rain
in syncopated rhythm

the stream of the unconscious
run in thought constrain
unlike fancy fame

speak as plain as whispers in the rain

it is all a rage
a tumbled stone
inside the heart

the sea surge
the moon hurled
across water and sky

wind descend
trees bend
earth a rock
time a clock

night a day
black and white
shades of gray
return soon
if only minutes may.

an olive branch

a greater distance to the sun from earth
paint underneath my fingernails the work to file
deny my mother and her first born child
deep chill my heartbeat still on trial
older than a tree root rots
misgivings tied to have me nots
assert the failures of composure angry hot
middle of day the right to have their say
no matter what
a break in the weather a mix of sun and rain
our tears forbidden words bring angst a cruelest pain
a flux corrode like rust repeat the same refrain
you cannot trust the ones you love so much
with loneliness to claim no loyalty no gain
as a moon will wane I think we go insane
for what is love but someone else to blame
let light shine in eyes that look deep blue
as wide as an ocean she will rescue you
she is my mother bearing flowers
she is the ear that listens for hours
she cries the tears when she feels powerless
she is my dear she is my love an angel the sign of the dove
offering an olive branch
on the other end of the phone telling me she loves me
while eating olives.

a hungry place

the sun shining
amber as maple syrup
sticking to twig and stick
grateful to be able
in the years of fable
blindly going forth
waiting for a renascence
fine art at your table
since first you cradled a ladle
and I the lady with a bagel
promise anything
but give her salami and cheese
while you whip up your liver pâté
in FILO dough you know
would be as smooth as Peter Pan
but then
the world is a hungry place
but I grew up
with broiled lamb chop
all over my face
and there was nothin’ finer
than Queenie’s apple pie
second helpings on my plate
date nut bread covered in cream cheese a fave
we didn’t know how to run the
meat would come out gray
my Twinkie for a Hostess cupcake!
to thine own Milky Way be true
I wanted food all the time
I couldn’t get enough
it was my significant supper
i guess that’s why I love you
like a Jewish mother.


take me with you
smile all the while with sunsets that beguile
know the joy you give in every hug
you amaze with peace and love
I know not what to do
to keep you safe from the elements
except to say transcend the pain
hope for better acceptances
I’ll try to remember your love
is so tender
my counselor my public defender
my sister for a cause
cat grasping at clause
straighten the closet clean out
the drawers
so many chores
to make life viable she is reliable
gets things done on the run
vitality an archival sun
many faceted analytical
professional camaraderie
a systematic consistent
expression of honesty
homogenized deductive proof
like a sap drips every minute
from the maple tree
don’t be taken advantage of
lunches are not free,
well maybe for you and me…
grabs a salad soothes her palette
lemon in Pelligrino
extends an olive branch to Jiro
by shopping at Dagastino.

elegant moon

elegant moon
shining brightly room to room
simply spun to stare would stun
soon tomorrow rising sun
blond as beach bleached in strands
hot sand extend the curve and bend
humid air cool a savage scorch
timid synthetic awning cover porch
rolling fire pit throw fit
the torrid sun sizzle sidewalk grit
the fault a steamy assault
concrete crack with skill
the truant trudge of tired will
smelt melt
in rubber sole expel
burnt umber the color encumbered
dark that isn’t pale

luc-warm to boiling
the pot too hot to grip the lid
of handling
the soup is of good stock
lady lifting ladle languish
in haste the taste like paste
bland don’t waste the rest
say grace to grimace grumbling
bumble bee is comfort
peas and carrots tender
catch a fish on a hook
heart rendering
feed loved one roasted onion
and potato
alone mutter
saffron rice black tea on ice
apron strings preserve such thing
the fruit will bring love
a family toast a twinge
then back on the road again
I’ll give you what I can
always been a fan
what’s cooking in the pan
biscuit for your apple butter jam.

without apology

moon lofty lilting laugh
change hap the ocean bath
gratified surge relax
splurging waters lag
swim a fin to drag
salty seaweeds store
midway display the stingray play
across the sand rock floor
shellfish blacks and blues array
accept darkest depth invade
felt the colder fluid flow
air bubbles blow in undertow
deep below forgotten
hit of currents crash like serpents
wriggling great promise
let go of dreams that make it seem
fish must eat bottom greens
engines roar sputter muffled sound of beasts
little ones dangle little feet barely touching brine
laughing cooing as papa casts out a line
suddenly hit in a blitz so quick
a bass or is it a grouper?
whatever he is he sure can swim
jumps in the air like a tuna
all is fair we’ll eat him rare
get to shore or sooner
the tackle box smells of mildew
if you say I am you are
the blues are running in summer sunning under
skies as dark as denim
to protect themselves in schools of thought
lure fish into a feeding frenzy
fated on plates from fishkill ny
baked-butter sauce lemon
sprig of parsley
without apology
fish no fish
go to heaven.

candy wrapper super hero

he’s a skid a spoof a fop on the loose
a boy a girl a flip flapper
a candy wrapper super hero
weed wacker-soda cracker
hip hop podjock an old soul an all night crasher
bean pole face-mole screen saver
introducing the semi-nudist tea totaler
film buff powder puff scene stealer
excersize dancer thighs “the eyes that paralyze”
capsize your kyak in the meanwhile yak yak yak a poet of “words words words”
and letters to his Zoe, the
sharing of their worlds, a love that keeps on growing, in knowing a
special bond a lifetime no regret
to be as close as two can get
fond skaters round the pond be
blessed in heartfelt harmony expect the best
so pardon me respect the biggest heart you see
in Zoe for all eternity.

Ben bonhomie good story
brave knight chicken Kiev
clarinet man to get
in a ruse never rude
in a very mellow mood
playing prude
in the nude
says his prayers
thinking of you
grateful for his time on earth
serious to feel his worth
grateful for a life to lead
to help the ones in need
his grasp far outweighs his reach
two young fellows on a beach
taking pictures where they hope to meet
in the give and take of irony.

tall dark handsome
dark horse horoscope Scorpio
boots like John and Ringo
wear your red leather jacket
walk like a flamingo
come partay
how much is that doggie in the window?
all is fair in love with Claire.

such good luck

unto my heart as semblance be
a soul my twin in age of three
my kindred spirit as often do
became the bravest one I knew
in the reign of mortal men
I look to you with sadness then
as history made us friends
you are Portia I am Puck
with love ever present
such good luck
our fortune more than wealth&fame
believing in you sweet rose again
and having tried to turn the tide
with you love you by my side
I scream and cry
tell of ancient pain
yet one thing true
so proud of you
tell me not I never cared
to listen to your heartfelt prayer
for I am an unmannered claim
of broken trust and stricken strain
and if you be but merry
when else you can rely
in my heart I carry you
in gratitude and pride.