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a summer favorite, and a light and breezy
soundtrack to read this poem by::::enjoy::::
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. summer us
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how you try in vain to shield such lovely pale soft skin
with your lotions, umbrellas and wide brimmed straw hats
while i crave this Mediteranean sweat and bask in the burn
how you must swim in every fresh water or rolling surf
while i just dig my toes deeper into any warming sand
content just hearing your giggles and joy
how you refuse to wake up your sleep in vacation mornings
while i stay up sleepless nights penning you my poems of love
listening for the sighs and mumbles of your overtime dreams
how you dutifully RSVP each planned event and bbq
yet smiling face rush to any impromptu backyard party
while i ask you again and again please say ‘hey’ from me
how you always order your iced decaf Americano black
while i need extra soy in anything caffienated latte’ style
and who will really believe that we both sans the sugar?
oh darlin’!
my warm weather twin
and who would really believe our eleventh summer is almost here?
and why would anyone really hear the truth we simply can’t deny
that anyone can possibly share our summer joy more than you and i?
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‘little ladybug
there’s nothing to fear from me,
i mean you no harm.’
‘my mom taught me well
to respect all living things,
she had a big heart.’
…i miss her a lot…
‘we had a praying mantis
come to our window
for one whole summer,
and eat lettuce she fed it…
i would watch in awe
as it ate each leaf…
i can’t remember the name
that i chose for it,’
…where has the time gone…?
‘but i remember the eyes
moving all around….’
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‘little ladybug,
you can stop being scared now.
i was just reaching
for my ice cold glass
of delicious lemonade,
and it’s homemade too!
can you continue
to do your little dance on
the rim of my glass?
when you raise your wings,
is it the sugar you like?
or are you in love?
little ladybug,
i’ll just pour another one
’cause we have plenty.’
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my encounter with little ladybug happened on the farm,
while i was sitting by myself at the picnic table.
the praying mantis came to our kitchen window everyday
for an entire summer. i was six and my mom would lift
me onto the counter, so i could watch it eat.
the why of rain.
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and sitting here
alone and content
at the worn wooden picnic table
just beyond the kitchen of our farmhouse,
sipping a glass of homemade iced tea.
in this quiet i hear
the soft clattering of
dinner dishes being cleaned,
and the voices of those i love
finding their way to my ears
and to my heart
from the half open window above the sink.
…now a steady pattering of raindrops through the trees.
how i so readily accept the why of rain
here on the farm, because
there are no
umbrellas parked in the foyer
and no scurrying for cover
to dodge every drop. i’ve
decided instead
to enjoy being wet. closing these eyes
i savor and absorb these warming drops,
as they dot my arms
and soak my hair.
i’ll agree
nod in approval with
this year’s crop, the budding
soybean plants who sustain our farm
when in unison whisper,
‘there is never a nuisance in the rain.’
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maybe i’m ‘old school’
or just an anomaly,
i have a soft spot
my knees go weak for,
black and white photography.
color spells it out,
but somethin’ about
using imagination
to fill in the blanks….
’cause i see green waves
in those endless summer eyes
my mind is drifting…
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that white stretch of sand…
embracing warm on our skin…
watching the sun climb
up a cloudless sky…
whispers as you slept…are they
words i long to hear?
i had to listen,
so i eavesdropped while you dreamt.
now i’m wondering…
secretly yearning
when waves roll into night, will
you whisper again?
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so i finally took the leap into the abyss, a poem in Haiku form.
a first attempt, a daydream, a reverie with special meaning to me.
the photo is a stock image i happen to like a lot.
dear friends
i had no intention of writing this, as we were
driving to the farm on Friday these words just
began arriving. why?… i have no idea because i
haven’t thought about these memories in decades.
oh, the mystery and wonder of poetry….
so Scout took the wheel and it all spilled out,
before we reached the farm. everything told here
is true. i changed her name, it didn’t seem fair
not to.
i don’t often put the song i write to, up top,
but this song IS part of this story more than
any other poem i’ve written. it was the only song
i listened to that summer when it was released.
as always, the words follow the slow tempo. ty.
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oh Lola,
my Puerto Rican Princess
you wrote such exquisite poetry then
oh, my peaceful flower child
where, where do your words reside today?
we loved each other, our senior year
so immersed, in Tolkien and Kazantzakis
so inseparable, a promised ever after in our eyes
so untouchable, to a world beyond our view
the purity and innocence, of a first true love
our reflected light so intense, we outshone the sun
we were just 16, the only moment that truly mattered
was whatever moment we were in
born a little too late for Woodstock,
we were still committed and it was always
about Peace, Love and Understanding with us
and oh, did we wear our hippy proud!
i can still remember, the whole bunch of us
hangin’ out, smokin’ out and singin’ out loud!
while you braided my waist length hair
right there, on the worn steps of our high school
an hour later, you gave your Valedictorian speech
hell…there wasn’t a dry eye in the house
oh Lola, you made your boyfriend so damn proud!
then, just one week later…you broke my heart
walking those miles to your apartment
with a flower, I always picked for your hair
you and him were holding hands and laughing
the flower died…right where it dropped
gone was your ankle length, silken skirt
gone was the sheer, embroidered Indian blouse
and the peace sign necklace I saved up for
who was this girl, with cut off shorts and t shirt?
and so began my summer of sorrow, that year in ‘71
and so began a lifelong habit, retreating in silence
when the pain becomes so unbearably real
there was no peace, no love…only my fountain of tears
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and then about ten years later,
i shut the lights and locked the door
to my little shop and went for my run
and no matter the temperature or weather
wearing shorts, sneaks, headband and ponytail
i ran and ran and ran, ‘til I just couldn’t run no more
hey man, I was committed…….to never being hurt again
but there was no peace, no love and no one to understand
and as I was bent over, trying to catch my breath
under the arch at Washington Square
this woman who seemed so excited to see me
hugged me right through, all the sweat on my chest!
‘how are you, it’s so good to see you! how long has it been?’
and then like an electric shock, thunderbolt to my heart
i thought, ‘oh God no, my Puerto Rican Princess,
where, where, where did you go?’
oh sweet Lola, my faded flower child
you probably don’t remember saying this
as we sat down, and the bottle came out of your purse,
‘Aragon, I made such a mistake leaving you. I’m really sorry’
all I could say, after us both taking a hefty swig,
‘please, please tell me, you took that full scholarship to Vassar’
her blank stare said, ‘do you wanna’ see some pics of my kids?’
so as one pain began to heal… another wound took its place
and her promised call…never did ring
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now I don’t pray all that often, but i knelt that night,
‘please, please, help her come to her senses. help her see!
or send someone to save her..….then send someone to save me’
through all my troubled life
a scarred and imperfect heart
strumming a mournful reverb wail
into the stillness of my lonely nights
the numb and deafened ambilvalence
of this oft times heartless world
just looking for someone
to hold me tight
to love me right
and then somehow Through
all those crowded strangers
you appeared dressed in your
brightly expansive heart, yours
a birthright to love without fear
and mine to fear the love i need
and on our very first celebration
streaming every tear i never cried
i wrote Nil’s song on that mirror hidden
behind the blue hydrangea bouquet
i handpicked for you in our yard
then this shy boy did what he
thought he couldn’t until you
…what he thought he never would
holding you close in my arms and
swaying slow dancing to the rythym
of a song i wish only i had written
and whispering my love to …you
you, who could still love me for
everything i wasn’t and
everything i would never be
darlin’…
‘Today I’m thinkin’ about the world we live in
All the love and hate that’s floatin’ around
All the times I felt so lost and helpless
You stood by me, you never let me down
Still I keep throwin’ up these walls
Most of them I’ve built with stones
You tear ’em down and bridge the distance
Knowin’ we ain’t here to be alone
So let your blue heart open wide
Let’s never leave our dreams behind
It would comfort and restore my pride
If you let me be your valentine’
and now with these hopeful eyes we see
our eleventh summer on that warm horizon
and through every up and down
and every in and out
and even life or death
yes, we’re still here
‘Our differences are part of life
Still love will pass the test of time
I want you everyday and night
Girl, won’t you be my valentine?’
sure, the blue bouquet it faded
but the song all my truth remains
marked and always will on our mirror
and you’re still here
sharing
caring
forgiving
saving me time and again
…oh darlin’
my sweetest savior
my beautiful tomboy Scout
you know i’ll pick those hydrangea when they’re blue
and though your shy boy might have his own words now
could our song ever be written better than it was?
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‘Valentine’ Lyrics by Nils Lofgren, Bruce on harmony, Ringo on drums
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‘conversation with you
was like a drug
it wasn’t your face
so much as it was your words’
Lucinda Williams
with light in my shadows
and cuts soft through my circles
you keep me from falling once again
but your words always did that for me
like that very first time
sitting in my old pick up truck
listening to Lucinda’s twang tell us
why we didn’t want that night to end
only you could convince
this shy boy to sing harmony
when it was your perfect voice
all i ever really wanted to hear
and my muraled furniture met
your folk art painted window panes
we got poor when greed burned the economy
chasing dreams i got crushed in its crossfire
‘We are not selling that truck!’
oh darlin’ you didn’t have to shout
everything i could ever hope to know about you
i would have heard your devotion in a whisper
and now our old truck
is getting some love in return
we shared these past ten years
and when she comes back
all painted blue and purrin’
wait for me again to turn the corner
from the side window like you did
and darlin’,
snuggle up against me
on that old bench seat
let’s listen to our song windows down
summer and hope blowing through our hair
talk to me like poetry
its essence of our love in your glance
and every word knows when to be
we can talk again ’til dawn
yeah, we can just drive all night long
who could know then 