New Poem: CAN’T SAY IT IN 30 SECONDS

 received the invitation to summarize

 my brief stint in community theatre 

 as both teenage student and volunteer 

 turned on the video recorder red light

 said it too slow, tried again

 delivered it rapidly, a little better

 but I don’t have that special skill

 of highlighting one year 

 in the space of a TV or radio commercial 

 >

 if I had, say, five minutes to

 discuss the plays I’d seen,

 some of the people I met

 and how the experience was positive 

 it probably still wouldn’t be enough 

 but I’m glad someone asked for a testimonial 

 

 

New Poem: KEEP REPEATING

 neglect absence anger

 helicoptering

 demanding not explaining

 hovering

 hit hard say it’s a love pat

 screaming 

 give you some of what you want

 beseeching 

 if I could I’d pay her to date you

 belittling

 study hard harder 

 encouraging 

 don’t trust you not to be your brother

 discouraging 

 spend the summer away from bad people 

 limiting

 love me regardless of how you turn out

 trying 

 really really trying

 too afraid of your disappointment disapproval 

 accepting 

 accepting

 way too accepting 

 just can’t say no to you

 

Revised Poem: BEHIND YOUR CURTAIN VERSION 3

Behind your curtain

was a stage flat that looked like a brick wall

I hoped the wall would never change

You used to bless me with teenage smiles

then the smiles stopped justlikethat 

and everything I did got on your nerves

so I closed my curtain 

and never again stepped out for encores

>

Over two decades later,

I visited a restored home 

in West Los Angeles

the owner had a living room curtain 

pulled open to reveal a picture window 

displaying a view of a flower garden,

a swimming pool,

and a charming guest house

>

It’s the kind of sight

you would have loved

in the year

when we were both fifteen 

and wanted to become working actors 

before my parents and yours reprogrammed us

no more live that dream

it became renounce that dream

because it wasn’t….practical 

Revised Poem UP AND DOWN THE HILL VERSION 2

 

the 15-year-old boy with heightened emotions 

now the 65-year-old man calmly seeing an oncologist 

so much done so much tried so much curtailed 

taking medication getting sleepy hoping for more days

>

at 15, taught to fear, warned to avoid, 

harangued to PAY ATTENTION

in spite of ths I had some good times over the decades

dared to think for myself

was blessed/burned by consequences 

at 65, hoping for added years 

before affairs must become ordered

New Poem MY BROTHER’S DEAD

 he died at 74

 never married

 one daughter

 one granddaughter 

 child of the keep it to yourself 50s

 came of age in generation gap 60s

 attracted to women and soft drugs

 brought to heel by the county court

 cried when he had to cut hair short 

 and present as nice boy gone bad

 >

 had a brother nine years younger

 far too young to bond with

 often separated by parents and miles

 learned how to be a salesman 

 able to get others to believe him

 as long as others weren’t mother father relatives

 >

 but he loved sports

 collected memorabilia

 graduated from University of Texas Austin 

 spent his retirement going to various sporting events 

 this took his mind off declining health

 and being denied access to granddaughter 

 by daughter who sometimes preferred him at arm’s length 

 >

 passed away a day following minor traffic accident 

 began eternal sleep in a duplex protecting him

 from Central Texas humidity outside 

 

 

Revised Poem: BEHIND YOUR CURTAIN

 Behind your curtain

 was a paperback copy of MACBETH

 resting on a wooden stool

 and a black cat named Monet

 who, after minutes of contemplation,

 jumped on top of the stool

 how beautiful, I thought

 nothing like this in my hometown 

>

You used to bless me with teenage smiles

then the smiles stopped justlikethat 

and everything I did got on your nerves

so I closed my curtain 

and never again stepped out for encores

>

Over two decades later,

I visited a restored home 

in West Los Angeles

the owner had a living room curtain 

pulled open to reveal a picture window 

displaying a view of a flower garden,

a swimming pool,

and a charming guest house

>

It’s the kind of sight

you would have loved

in the year

when we were both fifteen 

New Poem: HERE’S TO THE PARENTS

 here’s to the parents

 you know which of them I’m talking about 

 the ones who default to discipline if humiliation doesn’t work 

 who slap and hit well into teenage years

 who throw the approval preserver

 only if the child abandons his/her/their dreams

 taking junior on long summer vacations out of town

 all the better to ward off bad influences 

 but what if the child gets hurt by others saying no

 and the parent or parents choose to end this by saying:

 don’t you know I’d pay her to go out with you

 if I could 

 here’s to the parents

 who create children 

 that become nervous adults 

 and choose not to have children 

 of their own 

New Poem: VARIATION ON MELLENCAMP’S SMALL TOWN

 grain elevator, giant oil derrick, red/brown brick streets

 train station which became Boy Scouts facility

 elementary school that felt ultramodern in the 1960s

 large and small churches teaching different versions of Jesus’s teachings 

 car races which some classmates never survived

 drive-in eateries and motels which tried to survive the freeway bypass

 >

 newspaper ad said help save our town, buy at home

 but the next city was just a half-hour away by car

 some migrated there, others to other small Texas towns

 only a few dared move out of state

 to see if neutrality healed wounds and strengthened bonds

 

 

New Poem: THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU

 should I, I ask myself 

 will she think I’m bothering her?

 embracing temptation, I walk towards

 the table she sits at in the university library

 saying hello, she smiles and says hello

 small talk about school and studies

 then I mention how it’s been almost a year

 since we were Saturday acting classmates

 it becomes quiet; neither of us know what to say

 I throw a pebble into the silence

 time for me to resume studying

 take care, have a good rest of your weekend

 she smiles and says you too in a warm voice

 >

 after returning to my table,

 I open my high school English book

 read e.e. cummings poem buffalo bill’s defunct

 as my mind’s eye watches a balloon climb the sky

 before disappearing 

Poem from 2017: BEFORE GOING ABROAD

 BEFORE GOING ABROAD 

 

we'll learn enough German

to get us through the basics

of politeness and asking for amenities,

so we don't qualify as ugly Americans

>
because I remember the time
I ordered a cafe latte for you
at a chain bookstore
in the Alberto Sordi Mall in Rome
>
and after two sentences of fractured Italian,
the counterperson took pity on me
and answered in English
>
she smiled as she did this,
and I'm guessing she was pleased
that I made the effort 
to momentarily take leave
of my native tongue

 

 

Recent Poem: TWISTING THE NIGHT AWAY

primal scream aided by Schnapps
moping over college coed who didn’t want me
now in the parlor of music fraternity house
too drunk to drive too awake to be tired
fraternity brothers hide shoes so I can’t leave
lay down under blanket on antique divan
trying to sleep
turning side to side
as stomach decides
whether or not
to keep alcohol where it is

New Poem: Thistletown

click off the light switch
click on the 16mm projector
rattle the silent black-and-white film
hold that frame still when I fail
to cross the line with everyone else
walking through Thistletown
>
in need of special treatment
given private tutorials
made to feel as if I have power
to destroy the obedient and confident
if I don't cross the line sooner
verbal knives slash hard in Thistletown
>
student teacher can achieve only so much
until public humiliation takes over:
holler at me, shame me,
send me to study hall,
glue me to a bench
it's character building
it's attitude changing
it's all on you, son,
you keep saying--
instead, my border wall grows taller
>
but I keep quiet, try to move proper
pick up my feet, point my toes
eight steps for every five yards
count the days, months, years
before I can leave Thistletown
and learn how to walk
without looking to my left and right
to cross the line perfectly