• he was there

    Byjucasso

    he smiled encouragement a man of honor
    representing family ethics
    white collar
    mourned the 6 million
    they were martyrs
    Baruch atoi adanoi-as we light the candelabra
    a holy man who hadn’t been to shule
    schools of thought fishes swimming opposite in twos
    upon the Larchmont lawn the morning dew
    he was there but seldom home, were you?
    the evening papers Adli Stevenson
    he believed in him like no other mothers son
    righteous indignation bright external gifts
    all that money could buy-two dollar tips
    cars boats colleges trips
    faithful never able to come to grips
    how he loved horseradish on his gefilte fish.

  • when

    Byjucasso

    when the painting keeps you from fainting
    paintbrush in the hand
    hand me down from mama
    and the intrepid man
    slight of hand
    onions around the lamb
    makes me feel so humble
    truth is that I can
    right the wrongs of stumble
    across the crooked land
    cook for me a summer feast
    sweet the orange yam
    counterfeit a smile
    for everything I am
    to look on till tomorrow
    for love is felt more than
    the swelter of a lie
    may helpers never die
    remembered Queenie’s apple pie
    a flaky a crust am I.

  • his furrowed brow

    Byjucasso

    carry my body back to France
    if only he would sing
    or stand up on his feet the way
    he danced the night away
    vital and alive at 25
    freed from childhood dark and grim
    married his sweetheart
    from the company of the king
    draped her in mink
    taught her to drink
    baked Alaska made her sick
    on a train from New York to Mexico
    Penny beautiful naive
    Harold passionate extreme
    sports cars travel business
    2 kids and a dog best wishes
    with help to wash the dishes
    6 boxes of cigars at a time
    Macanudo
    Mouton Rothschild vintage wine
    that was a good year
    when we were 12 and 9
    and mother would cook
    her shrimp Kap-lan
    spilling in a little of her Miller
    and Queen’s southern fried chicken
    mashed potatoes and gravy
    Granny Smith apple pie and
    lemon meringue
    I was a fat little kid-still am
    The Rani June 1-2-and 3
    Driftwood Lane the cottage by the bay
    mom catching every sunrise
    with her camera, many moons flashed
    before her eyes
    and dad became quiet
    relieving doubt and strain
    to sooth his furrowed brow
    he made all our dreams possible
    i coiling ropes salute you
    on your bow
    sail on, Dyer Dow.

  • the morning after

    Byjucasso

    fried chicken smothered in gravy
    lives put on hold unheard
    to grieve would make me regret her
    conceived to help her feel better
    relieved to see the beauty in a girl
    her eyes the bluest seas
    to walk the grounds with tulip trees
    how high the mighty graceful branches
    caught the light swaying in prayer
    for mama and papa and two baby bears
    the dining room formal the Beacon Hill Chairs-
    a china birdcage without a bird hanging on a heavy chain in front of
    the bay window
    told of life on Devonshire a family doing well
    bitter herbs were Harold’s words fell apart our world
    we weren’t doing too well-the tin man had no heart
    a man who cannot love will not be well nor smart
    we had cars vacations yachts expectations
    Glenfiddish imported from Scotland
    Dimple scotch from the UK
    Tanqurey gin the best martini
    Boodles gin don’t forget the olive
    will never forgive the olive
    Mouton Rothschild
    red like his blood curdling screams
    Dom Perignon-
    how fortunate we felt we’d been
    as ducks take to water
    as Christ changed water into wine
    dad should have drunk the holy water
    and not have drowned his sorrows
    for his lifetime
    it wouldn’t have been so bad
    but for the prescription drugs
    the combination turned him insane
    on a nighty basis a life too pained
    never asked for help
    it was too late he couldn’t stop blaming
    the abused became the abuser
    his mother the accused
    dazed dementia he smiles and waves
    forgetting a past
    he never remembered
    the morning after.

  • 5 & 8

    Byjucasso

    we have nothing without love
    she is my mother like no other
    blessed with her the day I was born
    those sunny happy perfect days
    trees in the breeze reached the sky
    the grass grew tall about my thighs
    the sun shined our hearts were light
    dad smiled a lot when we were little tots
    celebrate the holidays the snow
    was three feet deep
    sledding down the driveway
    into the snowbound street
    icy patches we would slip
    fall down go boom with laughter
    giggles and grins
    cracking off icicles from the roof
    crunching and munching them
    with gusto-mom would call us in
    for hot chocolate stripping off
    our snow suits soaked to the skin-
    then she would towel dry us-it was
    the snowstorm of ’56-what a great
    time to be 5 & 8 when we were
    young and innocent in a world
    where everything was great!

  • the prologue:

    Byjucasso

    you can see the mountains and the moon,
    through clouds the vision
    sounds the senses to a tune,
    yet for haste there would be no stone
    left unturned, take a chance with
    me and I will see to it you won’t
    get burned.
    having said the length of time to tell
    thoughts wishes dreams-love the
    answer to it all-what does it all mean?
    chasing rainbows into past
    prophets fallen angels, guided by
    sophists sophisticates and suffrage,
    raging on eating my ruff-age.

    I asked God for a penny-He gave me
    my mother-a Goddess from Heaven
    in beauty and manner she lifts me
    out of chaos and mends my
    embattled bruised ego-
    with wit whimsy politic mom runs
    her ship easily polite with no thought
    for grief, by the power invested in me
    I now pronounce us mother and daughter.
    She is my power of example.
    I follow with baby steps
    into her footsteps.

    Dad suffers dementia-business man
    entrepreneur always provided for
    his family-he is comfortable at home
    with mom. He taught me how to tie my
    shoelaces when I was 5. Dad steadied the back wheels of my new bike
    running with me down Larchwood Road teaching me how to ride. He
    kicked the football to the top of the tulip trees.
    He took me to my first Yankee game.
    Mom and Dad introduced my sister and I
    to the theater-Broadway and all
    the New York restaurants-we traveled to Cuba
    when I was 5, Cuernavaca when I
    was 7-we had 3 consecutive boats-
    stinkpots-Long Island Sound was
    our playground. Dad would always
    sing to us on the car trips back to
    Westchester from The City-did
    well for a man who couldn’t carry
    a tune.

    Rani my sister – I was 2 -I was peddling my scooter-the door
    to the cellar was left open-I was barreling down the steps- Rani-4 1/2
    grabbed hold of the back wheels
    screaming “daddy daddy daddy”!!!
    dad came running-Rani saved my
    life.
    Years later-Rye Playland-in a ride
    called The teacup-I was 7, Rani
    was 9 1/2, the ride went berserk-
    up and down ferociously-my sister
    was about to fly out of the teacup-
    I sunk to the floor grabbed her
    legs kept saying “get down get down”!!
    mom was on the ground screaming to the carnie “stop
    this thing”! and as you may have guessed, he did.
    So Rani and I have a special bond,
    because we’re sisters, because
    we walked away.

    Family and friends have enabled me
    to keep sane in these uncertain
    times-I am grateful for their
    love and support. I dedicate
    “paintings and poems” to them.