'Not Allowed'

Well dear, it's come to this:
before beginning, and without a kiss,
our affair (that really wasn't), ends,
and we are still: ' Just friends'.

So, by my will, a yearning bends
till I have made of me - a friend,
and, clothed in friendship's proper dress,
I take my place among the rest

-the chums, acquaintances, and such-
with you so close! --but not to touch,
I know this longing's not allowed
from one more friend among the crowd,
so I conform, I am not proud,

still yearnings speak, though not aloud.

-jorge999

NOTE:
the above is an 'achey-breaky heart' poem,
written some years ago in the throes of
an unrequited crush. (blush)

'For Your Seventh Anniversary'

For your anniversary
a footling sum I spent,
I bought a gift and silly card,
and now they have been sent,

but on that bubble wrap you touch,
I poured a potent philter,
brewed to make you love the more
when all has gone a-kilter!

but spells and hexes, charms and such,
however well intended,
and secret potions made for you,
though cleverly their blended,
can't do what each of you must do
so you won't be up-ended.

Love and Best Wishes,
-Dad

'Disappointment'

You Bump Your Speed Dial

again

and my phone rings,

and there's your name

in the caller I.D.

again,



another call

that's not a call

for me,

though I'm hearing

your voice,

and hearing the kids,

hearing your life;



you still can't

hear me,

even though

I'm shouting

again.

-jorge999

Fantasy Written in a Country Churchyard

I had an enjoyable conversation at lunch today with my brother*. Alas, I forgot to mention the one thing that I had really wanted to tell him.

After church this past Sunday, I happened to noticed that the car next to mine had the vanity plate:

I PADDLE.

Curious, I lingered, hoping to get a glimpse of the vehicle's owner. As luck would have it I never did see whose plate it was, but as I waited, my imagination took flight.

In my mind I conjured a vision of the car's owner as a leggy, stern-faced beauty.
And, as my fantasy soared, I decided what I would say to this imagined goddess when she appeared:

"I have been a very naughty boy!" :-)




*who is, after all, one of only a few people who share with me in a sort of 'congenial perversity' :-)

Behavior and Motivation

We can't accurately ascribe one single motive for the antiwar behavior of students.
For some college students in the Viet Nam era, going to Canada or seeking conscientious objector status, resulted from their honest conviction that it was an immoral war.

For others, self-preservation or self-interest may have been the major impetus for the same behavior. Or, for that matter their motives could have been mixed.

Similarly, many young people who decided to GO to Viet Nam --whether enlisted or drafted-- went because they thought it was the patriotic thing to do. While others may have submitted to being drafted not because of the 'rightness' of the war but because it was the line of least resistance -- especially in the early years of the war, when young americans from small-town, and middle america would have been subjected to intense scorn, derision and even threats from some of their townsmen, if they actively opposed the war or refused to go.

Overt behavior does not, in itself, definitively answer the question of a person's motivation ...or of their virtue.

'Do Not Give Me Things Unbroken'

"The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing"
-Pascal, 'Pensées'


In the Fall of 2002 I read an article about poet Ottone
Riccio. To honor him on the occasion of his eightieth
birthday, Riccio's students compiled a poetry anthology,
entitled, "Do Not Give Me Things Unbroken".
In that anthology, each of the poems by past and present
students, 54 in all, was inspired by a Riccio assignment
to write something based on the book's title phrase.
I decided to take the 'assignment' myself and the result
was the poem below:


'Do Not Give Me Things Unbroken'

Do not give me things unbroken,
bring to me what's scarred and scratched,
All that's bent, and soiled, and torn,
Bring to me the shoes unmatched,

I must have what's frayed and dented,
old and battered, crushed and worn,
Crippled, bleeding, unrepented,
helpless, hapless and forlorn,

All these things I gather to me,
Though they're broken so am I,
I don't know what they mean to me,
My heart loves them, God knows why.

-jorge999

'Another Way' (for BFS)

Our paths may cross some of these days

in search of separate yearnings,

Yours to the strand and crashing waves,

and mine to mountain turning,

who can fathom our desires?

So deep...... beyond discerning,

Each seeks a different paradise

or new, or a returning.

-jorge999

'Absolution'

You couldn't, I could,
you wouldn't, I would.

Oh, don't be sad,
I won't feel cheated,

this guy, who would
-- is pressure-treated.

--jorge999

'Happy dogs' (adult content)

Hi Folks,
This morning I was rummaging through my little archive looking for something to post on my blog.
I found the poem below, which I wrote several years ago. It was one of about six or seven in what I refer to as my: 'Achey-Breaky Heart Suite'. At THAT time I was an immature lad of sixty-something and in the throes of an unrequited crush.
I hope you like the poem. It is a little embarassing for me, but it still makes me -- and may make you -- smile. :-)

SUGGESTION:
It is intended to be read ALOUD and at a FAST pace.
Regards, jorge999


(Don't you just love Happy Dogs?)

Happy dogs are so charming,
sappy, nappy dogs -disarming,
waiting at the door that you walk through!
happy dogs, are leaping, jumping,
happy dogs, with tails a-thumping,
happy dogs, with their hearts pumping,
they just come ALIVE when they see you!

Girl, you don't need cats or kittens,
hamsters peeing on your mittens,
Babe, I'll be a happy dog for you!
I could spend my whole day (let me!)
Staring at a door (just pet me!)
I could wait all day till you come through!

WARNING:
Male dogs fantasize of biting,
(playfully of course) uniting
love and lust within their canine hearts,
And their play ends up enciting
(Don't be coarse George, in your writing!)
Certain ...'Changes'... in their nether parts.

'Idea Man'

Dear friend, if you'll indulge the barm
that rises from a mind fermenting,
it can't do you any harm
and will not cause the least lamenting.

Ideas! ...there is no preventing
brainstorms that are unrelenting,

restive schemes demanding venting,
dropping like the leaves in Autumn,
You want thoughts?
No penny needed -- I got 'em!

step inside my rumination,
You may find illumination,

from some endless inner oceans'
tossing, surging, swirling, motions
unsought thoughts are flowing, flowing,
no matter where your mind is going,
...I've got notions.

-jorge999

'Decline' (adult content)

Organs betray me, honey bun,
Malfunctions big and small,
Last year they took away
my only place for storing gall.

I have a uro-doctor now,
(Admired by his peers)
And now I notice -ow!
Hair, growing inside my ears.

Ironically, on top my hair is thinner
And, (to tell you this may be a little crass)
Every evening after eating dinner,
I soak my (upper) denture in a glass.

What's that my dear?
Oh love, the situation's worse than what I paint,
So I must disappoint you now I fear:
My joints are stiff tonight...but some thing ain't.
-jorge999

'FIRST DAY'

(R.I.P. Andrew d. 4-29-08)

You're one hour gone
my little dog
and I,
for the first time,
enter this house without you,

Stooping, I put away
the things of you
--surprised at how they hurt me

-- your food -- your dish -- your bed
-- this useless leash I'm holding in my hand --
not needed now
by a dog that's dead;

So, I must revert my life,
straighten contours
formed
to hold another being,

Mornings, dogless,
I will lie abed,
no longer bounded
by your hunger
or your canine bladder;

Whose need now
will structure me?
and
what will I do
with a life grown sadder?
-jorge999

'Ambivalence'

I don't know whether to call you

- your life so full, so fast -

I'm like an old man in a cross walk,

and you, waiting for me to pass,

with one foot hard on the brake

...and the other foot on the gas.

-jorge999

'Homage to A Great American'

Hail! O Johnny Appleseed!

Driven by infernal need,

compelled to do, and do, your deed,

spreading ev'rywhere ...your seed,

In meadows, and on forest floor

on plains and farmers fields of yore,

(and afterwards, --you did it more!)

you must have been ---you were--

...Mighty Sower!

--jorge999

'The Boston'

Monday April 21, 2008 is the 112th running of the Boston Marathon,
Grandaddy of all marathons. It is a great event in Boston,
enjoyed by hundreds of thousands of local enthusiasts (the
majority of whom could probably not run around the block!)

It is celebrated on 'Patriots Day' a local holiday
commemorating the battles of Concord and Lexington at the
start of the American Revolution.

Inspired by the recent first Olympic games of the modern
era, the first Boston Marathon was held on April 19, 1897
with fifteen participants.

Here is a little info to wet your appetite:

1897
first race, Fifteen runners competed.

1898 The first foreign winner was a Canadian with the
improbable name of Ronald MacDonald.

1911
Clarence Demar of Massachusetts won his first of SEVEN
Boston Marathons. Demar won for the final time in 1930
at age 41.

1928
John A. "The Elder" Kelley made his Boston Marathon debut.
Kelley won the race twice, in 1935 and again in 1945.
During his prime, from 1934-1950,in addition to winning twice,
he finished second seven times and in the top five fifteen times.
Kelley holds the record for most Boston Marathons started (61)
and finished (58).His final race came in 1992 at the age of 84.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_A._Kelley

1936
The last of Newton's hills (at mile 20 on the course) was
given the nickname "Heartbreak Hill" by Boston Globe
reporter Jerry Nason. When John A. Kelley caught eventual
champion Ellison "Tarzan" Brown on the Newton hills,
Kelley made a friendly gesture of tapping Brown on the
shoulder. Brown responded by regaining the lead on the
final hill, and as Nason reported, "breaking Kelley's
heart."

Brown, an untrained runner, was an impoverished Native
American (Narragansett)from Rhode Island, who once won two
marathons on consecutive days! He is still a legend in
Rhode Island.

http://members.shaw.ca/tarzanbrown/legend%20of%20tarzan%20brown.html

http://members.shaw.ca/tarzanbrown/

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,761176,00.html

1975
First of four Boston Marathon victories by Massachusetts'
own Bill Rogers --A.K.A. 'Boston Billy'

1983
Joan Benoit won her second Boston Marathon in a world-best
time of 2:22:43. Benoit, who won the Olympic Marathon the
following summer, became the first person to win the
Boston and Olympic Marathons. (I watched her incredulously
from Heartbreak Hill as she ran past in 1983, at least five
minutes ahead of all the other women runners!)

In 1983 Greg Meyer of Massachusetts was the last American
winner in the male division.


For an overview of the marathon:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Marathon

for lots more, including pictures, map, history,
highlights, etc.

http://www.bostonmarathon.org/BostonMarathon/Default.asp

http://www.bostonmarathon.org/BostonMarathon/History.asp

http://www.bostonmarathon.org/BostonMarathon/CourseMaps.pdf

http://www.thebostonchannel.com/bostonmarathon/index.html

http://www.heartbreakhill.blogspot.com/

http://boston.com/sports/marathon/

http://www.bostonherald.com/news/regional/general/view.bg?articleid=1067197&srvc=rss

http://www.adventure-marathon.com/Boston-Marathon-2008.aspx

'Notes'

'Notes'
(for JD)

About those notes:
You know, (no, you don't really)
notes that I still write to you,
foolish notes you've never seen
-and birds -I think of birds' notes too-
I mean those birds that sing their mating songs,

(Does a bird keep doing, doing,
even though the thing went wrong?)

Can he quit and go away?
(Does a bird know how to sigh?)
Does he keep on doing doing?
Or does he slowly, die?

Still my solitary notes continue,
still repeat a gentle song,
slowly, softly, sadly, singing:

'...too long, too long, too long, to long...

--jorge999

'Poetic License'

Want to see my license?
I got it late in life,

After all the serious things
--a car, a house, a wife--

I know, I know, it seems a little
silly and pretentious,

but it gives some consolation,
'cause it's too late now


to live a LIFE licentious.

-jorge999

'Worst Poem'

A website where I often lurk
had a contest for 'worst poem',
the winner may accrue some perks,
and anyway, I'm right at home!
I did what anyone would do,
I did my best to do my worst,
now I inflict the thing on you
to prove I truly am ill-versed.

That was just for fun. My official entry is below:



'I Humbly Claim The Prize'

I surely have a suffering look,
I sigh and feel an awful lot,
I've read ( the covers of) so many books
that I perused but never bought,

I'm told I have a noble nose
as handsome poets often do,
My head is stuffed with un- bon mots
I'll put them in a poem for you,

I've saved so many foreign phrases
to wedge into my learned poems,
my erudition shocks, --amazes
my mom and dad and girls back home,

but empathy's my strongest suit,
I feel your pain, I really do,
(Do you think my eyes are cute?
Don't you like their shade of blue!)

so therfore: Veni, vidi vici!
Here I stand, I claim my prize!
also-rans should not feel bitchy
(I see it darling in your eyes)

I win! I win! I must insist,
one is blessed, many cursed,
too bad, the losers are all pissed,
I've done my best to do my worst,

I've justly earned your low esteem
--perhaps against your better wishes--
so give it up, declare me king.
Oh, what a fine, fine victory this is!


.

'On Rocky Marciano'

I grew up in Avon Massachusetts, eighteen miles south of Boston and four miles north of Brockton, home of Rocky Marciano.

Rocky was the only undefeated world heavyweight champ. He held the champion's belt for four years, from 1952 until he retired in 1956. His professional record was 49-0-0 with 43 knockouts.

All of Brockton and vicinity loved Rocky but he was especially adored by Brockton's blue collar Italian community many of whom worked in the shoe factories that Brockton was then famous for.

Rocky had a 1953 Cadillac convertible with Mass. license plates, 'KO', known to everyone as 'The KO car'.

I'm sure it was apocalyptic, but it used to be said that Rocky was undefeated: "...because each time he fought half the Italians in Brockton mortgaged their homes to bet on him so he wouldn't have dared to come home if he was beaten!.."

One of my school chums was Rocky's first cousin. We got together a couple of years ago after not seeing each other for decades. We had beers and then dinner at George's Cafe on Belmont Street in Brockton. George's is about a half block from Rocky's boyhood home. The cafe walls have many, many pictures of Rocky's fights, his training, 'Welcome Home' parades etc.

For anyone who is curious, or who remembers Rocky and wants to reminisce, here's a great link: http://www.geocities.com/Colosseum/Arena/1047/Rock.html


Addendum:

Brockton, which likes to call itself 'City of Champions', was also the home of 'Marvelous Marvin' Hagler. (Full Disclosure: Marvin moved there from Newark NJ at age thirteen in 1967)
Marvin Hagler is considered by many to have been the greatest Middleweight of all time.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marvin_Hagler

The Cost of Things

The 'narcotic' of consumerism entraps us...we work too hard and too long.. we are unhappy and so we reach for a fancy SUV with all the bells and whistles as if that will make us happy...and it does briefly...but then the extra car loan helps to keep us locked into the good paying job that we hate... or it keeps us working the second job that we had told ourselves was only temporary....Meanwhile, the years go by.
--jorge999/aka G.L.


"...The cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run." (Henry David Thoreau)

'Villa'

It's time,
I've learned enough,
I'm going from the world awhile
to my imagined Villa,

I cannot wait to see it,
Queen Ann's lace,
and careless daisies,
will smile as I pass,

On a hill,
happy ruminants,
deep peace
in a heaven of grass.
-jorge999

What am I at sixty-five?

What am I at Sixty-five?

Less than I once dreamed...more than I once feared

Habitue' of several 'Greasy Spoons'- patronized by lonely men

Respected (mostly) by my peers

Escapee from a prior life of two jobs and constant running

A helper -- a problem-solver

Free at last from certain youthful doubts and demons

Healthy (mostly) and admiring the courage of those who went before me

A loving father and brother

not without a certain restless yearning

In love with my house and garden

A 'Fool of books'

Excited by the possibilities of each new day

Still dreaming