'Still Moving' by jorge999

'A Toast and Prayer on the Occasion of The 2012 AFC Championship Game'

2012-01-22T15:32:00.000-08:00

[written on the morning of the Patriots-Ravens AFC Championship Game, January 22, 2012]

Okay, Tom Terrific, once more today is your day!
Cape Cod clam-addicts and Boston bean-eaters,
dour down-Mainers, and folks from New Hamster
are holding their breath and awaiting the fray!

While twenty-six miles down Route Ninety-Five,
in divine Providence, they're betting and fretting,

at breakfast Vermonters cross fingers and chew apple pie.
Even in Hartford they're tingling and feeling alive!

But, Tom, there's a hint that your father
in Heaven is smiling and looking below,
so, now 'Tebow- pious', we pray 'twas a signal he sent
( ie. the cold and the new-fallen snow!)

from Smugglers Notch to Killington, to Brockton, Boxford and Barrington,
from Alton and Athol, and Adams and Avon, from Ayer and from Arlington,
from Warwick and Wenham and Wareham, and Wrentham, and Wilmington,

from Boston to Barre, to Bristol, New Britain, Bar Harbor,
Westminster and Worcester and Foster and Gloucester,

from Woonsocket, Wiscasset, Pawtucket, Nantucket,
Nantasket, Pocasset,

from Waterbury, Salisbury, Shrewsbury, Tewksbury, Newbury, Shutesbury
from Glastonbury, Londonderry, Manchester, Dorchester, (but not Westchester),
and from Manchester=By-The-Sea,

from Scarborough, Moultonborough, Middleborough, Brattleboro, Attleboro,
from Kennebunkport, from Eastport and Newport,
and from down on the Cape in Hyannisport,

From Portland, to Plymouth, to Portsmouth, to Dartmouth and Yarmouth,
from from Buzzards Bay, to Cape Cod Bay, to Casco Bay and Narragansett,

from Westover,and Dover,and over and over Andover,

We raise our hopes, and raise a glass (or two)

to YOU!
-jjorge

'Encounter' version of 12/11

2011-12-11T10:57:00.000-08:00

'Encounter'

Above the early morning fog
I hear a single songbird peep,
but for me she'd be unheard,
-the mountain cove is still asleep,

Then, through a rhododendron bush
a tawny forest beauty glides,
and seeming not to move one leaf
to taste the dewy grass she spies

She turns, and bends her slender neck,
then stops. -I made a tiny sound-
her eyes and twitching ears she lifts,
our gazes meet and my heart pounds,

her glance is cooler than a mist,
and, though the stranger stands so near,
she seems to be devoid of fear,
and stands to let me stare and stare,

like a runway manequin
she waits to let me have my fill,
then turns, walks through a leafy screen,
and as before, the woods are still.
-jorge999

'Letter To My Brother In San Francisco' (December, 2003)

2011-10-05T10:22:00.000-07:00

Dear David,
The rumor's true.

Winter has wrapped our sick and tired
world in the customary bandages.

Soon enough they'll be discolored - fouled
by the residue of our strivings.

But for today all is wrapped in a healing whiteness.
It's just as you remember:

The stillness of yard and street,
the trees transformed, the quiet!
-GL

'Ephemeron'

2011-09-26T22:19:00.000-07:00

We'll lament,
no doubt, in time
--with suitably sad
and dolorous rhyme--
our totally mad,
fugacious, climb,

But dear, tonight
let's drink the wine!
-G.L.

"Twelves" (For Ben on His Twelfth Birthday)

2011-09-17T07:09:00.001-07:00

Ben is my nephew and I love him a lot  

Usually he's good, although sometimes he's not,

He is a cool kid -but he occasionally gets HOT!

A very fast learner -when he wants to be taught,

So, go ahead, tell me, what has this boy got?

Twelves,

He's got 'Twelves'!

I'll say it again:

He's got 'Twelves',

Now YOU say it:

'Twelves',

Now keep saying it:

'Twelves'

'Twelves'

'Twelves'

'Twelves'

'Twelves'

That's right! Two Elves!

P.S. I think I'll call those elves, 'Big Ben' and 'Little Ben'

-G.L.

Rick Perry's Version of the Pledge of Allegiance

2011-09-14T09:46:00.001-07:00

"I pledge allegiance, to Texas
and after that to the flag
of the United States of America (sorta),
and to the Republic for which it stands.
(Unless Texas decides to secede and become a republic again).
One nation (that may be divisible),
under The Christian God,
with liberty and justice
for all real americans."

-GL

‎Random Musings: The Origin of ‘Clam Up?’

2011-09-14T03:55:00.000-07:00

Clams are shy and restrained,
don't express their pleasure or pain,

Clams are not boisterous.

( if they were, they’d be, err...... ‘oysterous’ )

-GL

Footling

2011-08-25T05:06:00.000-07:00

Some days are made to walk in puddles,
poke your nose in unknown places,
write a rhyme, inter your troubles,
play in your internal spaces,

Fiddle, footle, frolic, muddle,
scan the maps on peoples faces,

Some days are meant for work or schooling,
others are for different graces.
-G. Lally.

'Maters'

2011-08-12T20:56:00.000-07:00

I have one tomato, "it's a female one", I thought,
but I'm an urban feller, and have never been taught,

(I never went to a grange or to any 4-H's,
never raised chickens, grew corn, or picked Payches*)

but I'd heard a y ...err... 'Local' with a tomato in hand
utter something like "mate her" to an overalled man,

who smiled and nodded, like an approving old elf",
"So THAT'S how they get 'em!" I said to myself,

But how to distinguish between the two sexes?
chromosomally speaking, mine must have two XX's,

I look for a male one, I try and I try,
but I just can't discern, which one has a Y!

I suppose to 4-H ers, there's just nothing to it,
but I can't imagine how these round fruit... err... "Do it".

Wait! I've got it! -a radical plan!
tonight I'll stowaway in the local fruit stand!

sooner or later, I'll see just what they're doin'...
If I can stay awake all night, I'll see lovesick 'maters wooin'!
-by George Lally
(Candidate for the title of 'Official Poetaster'*** of the Tomato Festival)

*that's called: "POETIC LICENSE", in case you hadn't heard,
it means I can fiddle with or mispronounce my words!
So 'peaches' can be 'payches'. Just drop your interrogatives!
I will not be denied my poetaster prerogatives!

**po·et·as·ter [poh-it-as-ter] noun.
'an inferior poet; a writer of indifferent verse.'
Origin:
1590–1600; < Medieval Latin or Neo-Latin; see poet, -aster1

File Under: 'Random Musings and Silly Rhymes'

2011-07-12T14:42:00.000-07:00

the vegan diners,
their court case won!

“no hurt was intended,
no injury done”

said the the claims court judge
(a wise old owl!)

“remember the precept:
no ham, no fowl!”

-G.L.

Rumination

2011-06-29T22:34:00.000-07:00

It didn't happen for us then,
Do you wonder, why?

I guess, my sweet,
that in those days
you had other fish to fry,
and so, my love, did I.

Now eight long years
have slipped on past
-oh, time does surely fly! -
and here we are again my dear,
will we be scared to try?
-GL

'Livers' (2005)

2011-06-29T08:31:00.000-07:00

Let the whiskey flow like rivers,
Sin the sins that make us quiver,
(both as takers and as givers)
Tomorrow we'll lament our livers.
--jjorge

"...and did I mention that you smoke?" (from 'Notes to J.D.' 6-5-03)

2011-06-29T08:28:00.001-07:00

I can tell we're not meant for each other,
Oh just let me count the ways:
You're headstrong and could be a bother,
My dear we'd not last for a day;
You eat the wrong things -it's appalling,
pizza with french fries, oh dear,
You don't like Rioja -how galling!
(if anything, you'll take a beer)

I can tell we're not meant for each other
Oh just let me count the ways;
you march to your very own drummer,
you're determined to have things your way,
You care not a wit for refinement,
You don't go to operas and plays,
and dresses to you are confinement,
A tomboy you've been all your days;

I can say we're not meant for each other,
It's apparent in so many ways,
you've a temper (just like my mother)
...and yet...I am here in this haze;
I shan't worry, it's merely a crush dear,
You're not meant for me -I won't have it!
So why am I feeling this rush dear?
...Oh well, you're my heroine habit.
--jjorge

"World Cup Blues" (2006?)

2011-06-29T08:24:00.000-07:00

Alas, I'm not a worldly chap
(Though I have travelled o'er the map)
Though I have visited and roamed
In Buenos Aires, London, --Rome

I've 'inhaled', 'drunk' and 'eaten' cultures
Like some crazed, voracious vulture.
I've lived like locals, learned their ways
Embraced their pasts--their nowadays

And yet I'm still a Philistine
'Cause I can't dig a certain scene...
(Would you believe it makes me yawn
much less arise to watch at dawn!)

A sport with balls that has no bats
Or three-point shots or touchdowns... Rats!
If I could work some interest up
--stop being a provincial pup--
I'd still not love the worldly Cup.
(G.L.)

'Broke and Broken Up' (lyrics by G.Lally)

2011-06-29T07:55:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law's FB status today was 'My Power Washer Broke'.
Someone said it sounded like a country song. So, here goes!

'Broke and Broken Up'
(lyrics by G.Lally)

My power washer's broke and so ain't I,
My man just left me for a teen-age tramp,
Oh, honey, buy me beer so I can have a cry!
beer and country music make my eyes so damp!

Some one stole my pickup, and my dang dawg died,
that ol' bill collector's knocking on my door
I need to find a place where I can go and hide,
but no one wants to take me in no more!

...I'm broke and broken up, but I ain't broken..."
truer words than that just ain't been spoken!
So cowboy, buy me a beer and play that song,
'cause everything I ever had's gone wrong!

Now please don't think that I am always bitchin'
but this toothache has me feeling...well, like shit!
this morning I woke up and I was itchin'
at least those pesky bedbugs like me quite a bit

...I'm broke and broken up, but I ain't broken..."
truer words than that just ain't been spoken!
So cowboy, buy me a beer and play that song,
'cause everything I ever had's gone wrong!

Correcting the Record

2011-06-04T05:11:00.000-07:00

One time a woman called me ‘feckless’,
Well, how 'bout these feckles on my nose!?
I'd say her allegation's kinda reckless
don't you suppose?

I guess I'd hafta say that
that old gal is just a dunce!
--and anyway, I have been ROYALLY fecked,
more than once!

After Pascal

2011-05-31T21:16:00.001-07:00

Though reason and I are well acquainted,
I sometimes see through an altered prism,

In the heart of hearts dwell truths untainted
by enthymeme or syllogism
--GL

'One Letter Too Many'

2011-05-31T21:14:00.000-07:00

(to Ms. J.)

If I were your
armor

I'd feel fine.

You're already mine.

Shaped to your shape,
my spaces

-all the old familiar
places-

You won't have to dress
in camo,

and if you need some,
I've got ammo:

te amo, te amo

-GL

The Secret Lives of Clams

2011-05-31T21:12:00.000-07:00

“Oh, I am happy as a clam”,
was what my nice niece said,
It set my mind to musing, till
I see clam clans in beds.

'Clams are shy and taciturn,
don’t jump for joy', I thought,
-and 'do they ever clamor?'
nought!

even in Spring, when clam boy sings his salty song of love
and he is clam-romantic in his sandy, briney bed,
his nature is so different from human males above,
that yearning girl clams hear his song, and willingly are led,
( his gentle clam passion will not turn her red)

as he draws in and then expells
his nutritive sea waters
he sings of handsome clam sons,
and adorable clam daughters,
(propinquity is vital as he bubbles forth his song,
clams don’t get around as much as young folks do above)

Yes, somehow he communicates
-clam girl hears him like a bell,
and she discerns the vision
pulsing from inside his shell,
The gurgling pulses tell her
of a peaceable clam life
if she will just consent to be
his loving clammy wife.

unlike our human lives, so stressful and so frantic
some creatures live contented, beneath a green Atlantic.

A clam walked into a bar in New York City...

2011-05-31T21:11:00.001-07:00

Clem clam chose the bar in the cellar
(apropos don't you think, for a bottom-dweller?)

"How would you like some nice wet sand?"
said the basement barman, "We'll give you a hand,

you can slip under it, and still hear the band,
We do our best for such handsome clams!

and we know all about your preferences here,
so no bar gull will pester to buy her a beer,

but sultry mollusks will prance on our stage
and they'll make you feel that you're half of your age

and later, dear clam, when you're feeling real fine
we'll prepare you the finest steam bath in white wine

with our VIP treatment, by the end of the night
you'll relax, and 'open up' -no longer uptight!"

these words meant to sooth, had a different effect
our clam felt a tingle the whole length of his neck

He suddenly experienced a strong urge to run
he forgot about mollusks, and booze and fun,

of course he couldn't put a finger on 'it'
but a now -intense fear filled his stomach pit...

[sorry folks to interrupt your fun, but this, alas, concludes chapter one]

Rumination on the Occasion of My Sixty-Ninth Birthday

2011-05-31T19:39:00.000-07:00

As 'That Day' approaches:

I don't acknowledge birthdays any more,
but sometimes when my DOB arrives
I raise a glass -or maybe four or five-
(after I've determined that I'm STILL alive!)

knowing that before too long I'll 'pass'
this old dude doesn't covet gifts or pelf,
instead, I simply hoist my foamy glass,
and wish a happy 'burpday' to my own darn self!
-GL

Last Word

2011-05-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

‘Saturday, May 21, 2011, 5:50 PM’

Drat!  No new tat! 

My tattoo artist cancelled today's session!

 Damn! I don't mind losing my worldly possessions, 
but I craved more ink today - my one obsession-
 (okay, MORE than one, but this ain't no general confession!)

You see, I had hoped that
today,  when the whole world goes, "Splat!"
I'd go out in style, sporting
 a fancy, brand new tat!
But the #%!#&! cancelled app 
has ruined all of that!

Well, just ten minutes more is all  
that me and this old world has got,
So, maybe I should meditate for ten 
at least, on some sort of holy thought,

(while those smirking rapturees
 imagine me in someplace hot!)

but I KEEP THINKING of
that blasted tat  that I ain't got!!

OK, only seconds left now,
guess I'll just accept my fate,

knowing that this whole darn world is ending...

not.

-Jorge999

'Andrew'

2011-05-14T06:04:00.000-07:00

If you weren’t litter-perfect you were close,
that day we had ‘first pick’ of all your daddy’s pups,
chubby, white and black with one white eye,
you could have been a panda cub;

an endearing, curious dog you were,
making eye contact with our human gaze,
not to dominate or challenge,
just gentle-friendly,

How could we not choose you?

Andrew, you endured indignities of baths and haircuts
and never made a whine or whimper,
but your happy self was always quick to sooth
our distress, and bad temper,

my buddy, my friend, I bring you now to Jo-Ann,
carry you to the cemetery with the
indian name --’Quidnessett’,
your quiddity now in convenient granulated form
(like some god-angering, Greek dog, transmuted into sand)
will slip easily into this hole I dig;

I think: 'will these granules, when rains
seep in and make your house all muddy,
will they stick to one another, and swell,
until you push a dirty paw up through the ground
and you come back to me from your dog heaven

or dog hell?'

'A Drink Called a Bearded Clam' (adult content)

2011-05-12T06:09:00.000-07:00

1.
Deterred, at first, by a clam with a 'beard',
I gradually changed my mind
after I had been thoroughly beered
and had drunk three glasses of wine!

but it wasn't the first hair I'd tasted
(the whole story at another time!)
Dos Equis had gotten me wasted
then too, and hair-and-all, it was fine!

2.
Her business clothes seemed out of place
though they were of an elegant kind,
and I savor the memory of her good taste
-I'm sure it was better than mine,

with this ditty, I'm skirting ex-rated
-perhaps now I've crossed the line-
but her suit as she lay on the bed
was the furthest thing from my mind.

'Socrates Said To: "Know Thyself"

2011-05-10T05:15:00.000-07:00

hmmm..."..a conceited little *poetaster..."

it could be that it fits! :-/

and, it makes my heart beat faster...

I don't like it, but

in truth it's

no disaster.

-GL

* May 10, 2011 A.Word.A.Day with Anu Garg

poetaster

PRONUNCIATION:
(POH-it-as-tuhr)
MEANING:
noun: An inferior poet.

ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin poetaster, from Latin poeta (poet), from Greek poietes (poet, maker), from poiein (to make) + -aster (pejorative suffix). Earliest documented use: 1601.

NOTES:
What can you do when someone calls you a poetaster? Why, you can call them a criticaster (an inferior critic). Also see mathematicaster, philosophaster, and politicaster.

USAGE:
"In the title story, a poetaster suffering from 'chronic acuteness' is rushed to the hospital before his verse does much harm."
Anthony Bukoski; Average Joes Wind Up in 'Hospital'; Star-Tribune (Minneapolis, Minnesota); May 3, 2009.

"You have revealed yourself to the world as a conceited little poetaster."
Simon Barnes; Rooney No Longer in Control of Fame Game; The Times (London, UK); Sep 13, 2010.

‘The World is Spinning Faster’

2011-05-09T06:32:00.001-07:00

It used to be
that folks could wait
till their third date.

but nowadays,
love, they start the fun
on day ONE!

So dear, by second date
we're ALREADY late
if we don't...you know...
'fecundate'
-G.L.

The View From Above'

2011-04-23T06:06:00.000-07:00

they have 'gravitas'
--while we are brooding,

their jokes are 'droll',
-ours, merely funny,

sins of the rich are
'peccadillos',

they have 'net worth'
-while we have no money.

-G.L.

'Self Absorbed'

2011-04-22T06:24:00.000-07:00

l.

You can have the abs you want

-if you'll be...

abstemious

just eat your apple pie sans cheese,

and yes, of course

whipped creamy-less

2.

well now my dues are paid and I'm a regular gym dandy
just twenty minutes jogging earns earns a piece of pie or candy

Yes, truth be told, this exercise is very, very nice
I sweat, and swear and sweat some more, and earn another slice

of lemon pie or pumpkin pie, - maybe a slice of cherry
or chocolate cream or blueberry ( perhaps a glass of sherry!)

eat candy, cake or pie, my friend, I tell you, in conclusion
but do those situps faithfully

...and have your ab solution.

-G.L. :-)

'all day suckers'

2011-04-19T03:40:00.000-07:00

some
last longer

some
are stronger

some,
with a smack,

-crack!

-GL

'Insight' (2nd version)

2011-04-04T06:58:00.000-07:00

I believe my younger selves still live inside me.

Yes, I know

I am that sagging skin
I am these aching hips,
I am that ravaged face
in the mirror as I stare,

but there are others behind these eyes :
the second-grader, late for school
the sullen teen with greasy hair,
a nervous newlywed,
the proud young dad
on the day you were born,

my collection of selves peers
into that cruel mirror,
wondering

"what the hell are we doing
in this old body?"

I tell you, these 'selves' are still right here!
inside me
waiting to be stirred to wakefulness

by one sweet moment
recollected:

by a glance at that photograph
of us,

a certain scent,

- that song!

-G.L.

‘Insight’

2011-04-04T05:52:00.000-07:00

I believe our younger selves
still live inside of us.

Yes, I know,
we ARE that sagging skin
we ARE the aching hips,
we ARE that ravaged face
we stared so long at today

but sometimes from these eyes peer out:
a second-grader, a sullen teen,
the newlywed, the proud young dad,
-the one I used to be,

looking into that cruel mirror
and thinking:
"what the hell am I doing
in this old body?"

I tell you, these 'selves' are still right here!
inside me
waiting to be stirred to wakefulness by

a thought,

a photograph,

a scent,

-a song!

- G.L.

'How My Mind Works'

2011-03-28T08:34:00.000-07:00

A simple word

or phrase is all,

-inflection, tone and such

will change it,

associations rattle

'round my head,

and something

in there

has to

re-arrange it.

Like this poem,

I think:

"find a clever way to

'finish it"

and: 'try to augment

not diminish it"

Next thing I know

I'm thinking of a

"Finnish hit"

Then suddenly

I'm at the end

and left with

'Finnishit.'

G.L.

‎'To A Spring Snow'

2011-03-28T07:21:00.000-07:00

I know that your capricious visit was a whim,
but what of shivering daffodils?

and tender buds numbed
by your clumsiness?

it’s true your cousin frost's the crueler one
-the real 'blonde assassin'-

but I wish you'd have compassion
for birds and buds who’ve had enough

of you and him.
-G.L

Re: Wall Street meltdown, BP, etc.

2011-03-25T06:15:00.000-07:00

As always, the rich white elite will have their loopholes, exemptions ...AND rich white lawyers to protect them from the consequences of their actions!
If everyone were TRULY accountable to the law for their misdeeds, the prisons WOULD ALREADY BE FULL of them...and there would be many, many job openings in the highest levels of corporate America, in K Street and in the various units of state, local, and national government.
For each sociopath behind bars, there are a hundred or more 'sophisticated sociopaths' -just as certainly predators- lunching in high end bistros, vacationing in exclusive locales, attending $1000 a plate political fundraisers, and 'doing their deals'.

Random Thoughts on the Israel-Palestine Conflict and U.S. Involvement in Same

2011-02-20T04:16:00.001-08:00

RE U.S. Press Coverage of American U.N. Veto
(of resolution condemning Israeli 'settlements' as illegal')

First let me say that my heroes are Jewish progressives who stand up for justice in Palestine -and there are MANY MANY of them.
Having said that, it's less about votes per se, and more about deference to AIPAC the moneybags lobby that purports to represent all Jews, but in fact represents its funders -rich right-wing jews bent on completing the West Bank colonization project.
Unfortunately a strong majority of American politicians of both parties are cowed by AIPAC and will support any pro-Israel measure no matter how absurd or how it may go against our own American interests. AIPAC has a history similar to the NRA of going after politicians who don't toe the line and (regrettably) they have a track record of defeating them. Still, History will not look kindly on the multitude of cowardly U.S. politicians who have played along with AIPAC to the detriment of their own country.
ADDENDUM: It should be noted that Christian Zionists, who form a large part of the Republican base, also press their politicians to support Israel in every way -especially in the Colonization of the West Bank (euphemistically called: 'Settlement Construction').”
So much for 'All the News That's Fit to Print'.
The truth is, that in this country, news that reflects badly on Israel is downplayed, white-washed, 'spun' and very very often simply ignored.
Am I saying that the Israel Lobby has a disproportionate control over news in the U.S.A.?
You bet your #!*$)#! _ ss I am!

U.S. Aid to Egypt is Really Additional Aid to/for Israel

2011-02-12T17:15:00.000-08:00

The U.S. has supported numerous dictators/ autocrats over the years, but its support of Mubarak, and $1.5 billion a year in (primarily ) military aid is driven solely by the interests of Israel and the Israel lobby in the U.S. This was the 'Egyptian payoff' that derived from the 1978 'Camp David' Agreement arranged by Jimmy Carter.

On today's news some Israeli stooge was asked: "What does the U.S. get back for all that money?" His answer: The U.S. gets "priority access to the Suez Canal and Egyptian airspace." ** The REAL answer, of course is that ISRAEL gets a compliant strongman who will suppress Egyptians, (who happen to be sympathetic to Palestinian aspirations) and allow Israel to proceed with its long term colonization project in the West Bank.

I wonder if the U.S. gets an annual 'Thank You' note from the Israelis?

** The U.S. already had complete access to the Suez Canal and Egypt would never dare to cut it off.
The U.S. would have considered that tantamount to an act of war. So what is gained by 'Priority Access'?
Do American ship captains get to visit a VIP lounge alongside the canal? or perhaps Egypt sends belly
dancers to entertain them during transit? $1.5 billion a year for 'Priority Access' is pretty bogus!

George Lally 2/10/11

"...'The Queen of Snail Mail', and other Memories..."

2011-02-06T19:36:00.000-08:00

Today (2/6/11) I found on my hard drive, a couple of entries from May 2002:

Tina's Death

Thursday May 23, 2002

Tina was put down today.

Tina was my mom's 14 year old cross-breed (shepherd plus
something). Mom got Tina as a pup. She was a stray, all skin
and bones and shivering in the rain when my late father found her.
She had no license and they could not find an owner.
Dad died the next year and it's been just Tina and mom for nearly
thirteen years.

Lately Tina has been falling down frequently and has been in
pain in her spinal column and hips. It reached the point that
mom spent a couple of entire nights awake trying to comfort her
in the past week.

Tina was also having a hard time getting in and out of the house
to do her business. She is (was) a large overweight dog and mom
was endangering herself trying to wrestle Tina up a couple of steps
into the house. (I had built a ramp for Tina a few months ago but
she refused to walk on it so mother, all by heself, tore the ramp
down a few days later!)

Mom has a veterinarian who does home visits. She (the vet) was
at the house Tuesday and told mom that there was nothing to do
for Tina and it was 'her time.' Mom, who lives alone, was
devastated but agreed with the assessment
except she wanted to wait till today so I could be with her.

I arrived at 12:30. The vet was due at 1:30. Tina was lying on
the kitchen floor in front of mom's chair. She barked and wagged
her tail when I arrived but couldn't get up. My mother's eyes
were red from crying for the past two days. Mom had had eight
children but Tina was her 'Baby'.

We patted and comforted Tina until the vet arrived. At 1:30
sharp the vet came with Peggy the next door neighbor right
behind her. Peggy is a vet tech and she and her husband have been
very good neighbors to mom. She herself had been devastated when
her own dog died two years ago. Peggy had volunteered to
transport Tina's remains in her van to a place where they would
be cremated.

The veterinarian first gave Tina a shot to tranquilize her. She
lay there calmly, blinking a little. Then the vet started an IV
of a second drug and within a minute or two the blinking stopped.

Tina was gone.
After tears and hugs Peggy and I carried Tina, wrapped in a
blanket to her van. I stayed till 4:30 helping mom clean up.There
were newspapers all over the floor due to Tina's quite
understandable 'accidents' in recent days.

It will take a week to get the ashes back from the 'Animal
Rescue League.' Peggy says that they, unlike some crematories
this one really does give you YOUR OWN dog's ashes.

Peggy also took a picture of Tina with her digital camera on
Tuesday. She told me outside today that when she picks up the
ashes for mom she's going to bring her a framed 8x10 picture of
Tina. Nice neighbor.

Friday May 24, 2002

I checked in with Mom by phone this a.m.
She's doing ok, doing some cleaning.
I'll be checking in with her daily for awhile.
I've encouraged my siblings to call her too.
Sunday I'll drive back up to Avon and take her
shopping for a new washing machine.
Life goes on.

"The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon Earth--

The sweeping up the Heart
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity."

(Emily Dickinson)

Sunday May 26, 2002

I just spoke with my Mom. She says she's 'feeling cold and old'
but she's staying busy. At this point she's quite insistent that
she won't get another dog and she is not really a cat person. I
will do what I can to help her process the loss of course and she
may then reconsider and get another dog.
I have to say that Mom is quite strong, in her way. She doesn't
get immobilized or paralysed by her grief--although the grief is
real.

Next to her dog her other great interest is her birds. Mom buys
and dispenses extraordinary quantities of bird-seed to her
feathered friends (about forty pounds per week!). She has a large
picture window in her kitchen and can watch her cardinals and
sparrows and finches right from her favorite seat at the kitchen
table. She also has her daytime 'soaps' ie. "All My Children" etc
etc and she spends a fortune on postage sending in entries to
contests etc. as well as her prodigious letter writing. Yes, Mom
is of that vanishing breed...she actually writes real letters to
her children, granchildren and others. I guess you'd have to call
her "The Queen of Snail Mail."
In short, Mom is hanging in there and she'll get whatever
support she needs to get through and past her loss.

Goodwill

2011-02-03T06:56:00.000-08:00

It's a cold, frigid day, and I'm
reflecting:
on the old, the out-of-work the poor,
the laid-off people, some dispirited,
some who hardly struggle anymore,

How are they -today?
one with a car that's broke,
and no money to fix it - walks,

Near my house, is a trailer park,
I watch the trekkers trek a 3 mile stretch
of un-sidewalked highway,
with groceries from WalMart
or to work, in Hardees uniforms,

Winter clothes cost money,
but, there is Goodwill..

Each year in cold spells there are fires,
who is the named culprit?
SPACE HEATERS,
that desperate people sometimes use,
to warm their houses and their bones,

We lucky, think of them-the struggling ones
-the misery that cold inflicts-
from time to time,
though, honestly, our things
concern us most, don't they?
and 'the poor ye always have with ye'
Right?

Perhaps I'll make a Goodwill drop,
after I'm finished with my tea.
that's the thing to do. Isn't it?.
Yes, Goodwill.

-Jorge999

After Math

2011-01-20T21:50:00.001-08:00

thought this might give you a smile...
(or a grimace)

After Math

For this they are not thankful,
For a Thanksgiving wish denied,
The millions who couldn't stop gobbling,
Can you hear their collective sighs?

What they gobbled, had to go somewhere,
And now it accuses their eyes,
grimly, they will go shopping
for pants of (a) larger thighs...
-GL
[ on Black Friday 2010]

'To A Chicken'

2011-01-16T19:37:00.001-08:00

O you to whom the dinosaur is kin,
-noble cousin of emu, eagle, and owl-
I hold it as a dreadful sin
that any man would call you 'fowl'!

Alas, it's true that birds, and dinosaurs,
and men like me do die,
but you alone, unlucky avian,
endure the fate of being fried,

O, we are awed by your unlikely pluck!
as o'er your noble head a sword hangs high,
and you serenely peck and cluck,
until... ( I wipe a tear from out my eye)
you meet your end, dissected, and with carrots, stuck
into some fiendish granny's hot pot pie!
-G.L. December 2010

2011-01-15T05:25:00.001-08:00

1-15-11

I am lately up to my eyes in a self-imposed marinade of ED poems and biography!

Sneak Attack

2011-01-12T18:50:00.000-08:00

What makes me smile ?
Spring's sneak attack:

Seven forsythias
blazing yellow,

Undaunted,
daffodils
blazing back!

-GL

Why I Am A Unitarian-Universalist

2010-12-12T11:45:00.000-08:00

[On 12-12-2010, at the Unitarian-Universalist Congregation in Blacksburg Virginia, the writer was one of three members who spoke on our spiritual journey to Unitarian-Universalism. Below is a slightly modified version of that presentation]

Good Morning!

My name is George Lally.
I became a full-fledged UU for the first time in 2003 at Bell Street Chapel in Providence R.I.

That wasn't my first experience of being a UU, however. When I was about eight I attended a Unitarian Church in Brockton Massachusetts.

In fact, that was so long ago that I wasn't really a UU then, but a 'U'! as the merger with Universalists had not yet occurred!

In any case, my siblings and I attended for about one year.- I guess you'd say that that was my mother's ... 'Unitarian year'.
You see, mom had a history of ....'transient religious enthusiasms'. We Lally kids used to say that our mom, 'collected churches.' In fact, before we went to the Unitarian church, we had already been Catholic, Baptist, Congregationalist, and Lutheran!

Later on mom would try-on Reformed Judaism, return to Catholicism again, and then go on to Seventh Day Adventism and Mormonism.

I was in my forties when mom took instructions with the Seventh day Adventists. I remember going dutifully, with my teenage daughter, on a hot Summer day, to watch mom get the full-immersion baptism she so ardently craved.... and, I remember a certain discomfort after the service, looking into the smiling faces and accepting the out-thrust hands, of those Adventists, who congratulated me on "Sister Genevieve's" embrace of their faith.

Well, no surprise. Not long after achieving her cherished full-immersion baptism, mom cheerfully dumped the Seventh day Adventists for a ham sandwich. She said: "Do you think I'm going to go my whole life without meat?"

Through all this changing of churches, there were constants: Mother always read her Bible, said her prayers daily, and for sixty years -until she died- she was a Rosicrucian and a believer in reincarnation.

I know, I know! This is supposed to be about ME and why I am a UU. So, here goes:

I was in and out of the Catholic Church from adolescence until about age fifty. I sort of had one foot in, and one foot out.
That reflected an ambivalence stemming from an uneasy coexistence of skepticism and spiritual craving.

In the 1970's and 80's I was increasingly dismayed as the Church remained stubbornly frozen in old doctrines and dogma. Nevertheless, I continued, as a so-called "Cafeteria Catholic" -selecting the parts I liked, and ignoring the rest.

The parts that WERE most important to me were the focus on purifying or nourishing one's soul, the wisdom and inspiration in many scriptures, and the fellowship.

Church was also something I shared with my late fiancee Jo-Ann; but when she died in 1994, the balance of my ambivalence was somehow tilted, and I gave up on Catholicism.

After half a dozen years of drift I began looking for a new spiritual home. A UU friend encouraged me to visit both of the local Providence UU congregations, I tried the large, 500 member, First Unitarian -aka 'Big Uni'- which is near Brown Universty, but in the end I got 'hooked' on small, spirited, Bell Street Chapel on the other side of town, and, hooked on Unitarian-Universalism.

For the first time I felt un-ambivalent about religious worship. I felt that I could enter into a faith community without having to leave my knowledge and intelligence, at the door like a pair of shoes.

Attending religious services has always been to me a sort of weekly 'spiritual tune-up' -to use an awkward metaphor- or more awkward yet, a sort of 'spiritual carwash'.

I've always been aware of the gap between who I aspire to be, and who I am. It is humbling to take ones' own inventory, contemplate our shortcomings, and to consider the ways one falls short during the week.

For me, our U.U. services, our fellowship - our beloved community, as Chris calls it, strengthens me to be a better me.

Sometimes a beloved community can surpass expectations. I recall once some years ago in Providence, during a very good sermon, experiencing a communal feeling that was almost tangible. Afterwards, a friend said: 'Wasn't that a special service!' .
I agreed that it was indeed special but said I had no Unitarian-Universalist vocabulary to describe it. I remember saying that the closest thing I could find was my old Catholic vocabulary which didn't really fit... but...
The old Catholic words I had for that feeling of something larger than the sum of its parts, -that feeling of beloved community- were that it seemed like the Holy Spirit moved in us. Well, I hope I don't offend anyone with that reference.

Anyway, that sort of special communal feeling is, admittedly not a weekly occurrence but it still happens some of the time...like sometimes when we sing 'Spirit of Life'.

in any case, I am, 'stuck on Unitarian-Universalism'! ...and unlike my dear late mother, I plan to stick around as a UU for the duration! Thank you.

On Sarah Palin

2010-10-23T09:13:00.001-07:00

she uses every opportunity to feed the resentment that is the perverse sustenance of her followers!
HER OWN sustenance is the publicity she garners, which enables her lucrative career ( of speechifying to the rubes).

'Tech Support'

2010-10-15T15:29:00.000-07:00

When I have crashed
or got confused,
you were always there
to walk me through it,

and thanks to you I've learned some things,
like files, and fonts, and virus scan,
(I've learned from you there's nothing to it)

If I need to, I can clear my history now,
and when my disk is fragmented,
you taught me what to do to make it right,

So teach me, (please!) to operate this num lock,
I need it as I try, and try
to lock the numbness in, so I won't cry.

Alex died.

GEORGE'S EXCELLENT DIET ADVENTURE

2010-10-04T05:50:00.001-07:00

Several people have asked me how I went about losing 55 lbs. in 11 months and I've been wanting to share my experience with them and others in a detailed way, in the hopes that it could be helpful.

When today I completed a 10 part diet questionaire for calories.com (which they may elect to publish on their website as a 'Success Story') It provided the chance to tell my story for anyone who is interested:

1. What made you decide to lose weight this time? Did you have an "Ah Ha!" moment?

An addiction to sweets -candy, pastry etc. has always been my downfall and my weight had gone up and down between 175 and 200 lbs. for 25 years.
After retiring however, my weight creeped steadily upwards month after month from 200 lbs to 222 lbs.
As my birthday loomed about 7 months in the future, I remembered my poor late, overweight, mother who, right up to her death at age 87, was always starting a new diet! Convinced that I was repeating her pattern, I said to myself, "It's now or never! Either LOSE the weight and KEEP IT OFF or accept that you will always be FAT.
From various diets over the years, I knew a lot about calories, diet strategies, healthy foods etc. but, before I began, I took advantage of the fact that I had an annual physical approaching.
I told my doctor of my intention to diet, told him of my addiction to sweets, told him
that I knew most of the health risks of obesity, and also that I 'know a lot about dieting'. That said, I asked for any 'wisdom' he could offer.
He suggested what he called 'a diabetic diet' - 1600 calories a day, lots of fresh fruits and vegetables and a sharp reduction in 'starches' - ie., pasta, potatoes, white, rice and and anything made from flour that was not whole grain eg. white bread and pastry!

2. What other "diets" (programs, products, plans, or services) had you tried in the past?

Conventional calorie reduction diets and Weight Watchers.

3. What changes did you make to your usual diet, activity, lifestyle, and attitude? What was the most important change?

I adhered to a 1600 calorie diet. I mostly eliminated starches and sugars. I became a fan of whole grains and an apostle of the glycemic index. I weigh and measure everything. I put a new 3x5 card in my pocket each day. On it I record each item I eat, how many calories it contains and the grams of protein and sodium. (this is actually very easy to do)
I now take a lunch bag with healthy snacks and diet soda or water every time I leave the house in order to avoid impulse snacking at convenience stores etc. As soon as I prepare my 'snack bag' I record the calories, protein etc on my 3x5 card and consider that that part of my daily caloric allowance has been 'spent.'
I also sharply ramped up my walking - from about 8-10 miles per week to 25-35 miles per week. I joined a gym and spend 30 minutes a day on a treadmill doing a moderate cardio routine. I began an abbreviated resistance training - about 15 minutes per day of mostly upper body exercises.
I established a line graph weight chart and began to weigh myself daily.
As I lost weight I got rid of my 'fat cloths' and replaced them with smaller sizes from local consignment stores. I even bought some jeans that were too tight and put them in my closet to motivate me!

4. How did Calorie Count help you to lose weight?

As the name indicates, it helped me to COUNT calories. I have also gotten good nutritional information, recipes and last but not least, encouragement from the success stories of others.

5. What was most challenging about losing weight?

Navigating a host of holiday gatherings soon after beginning in November,
then learning ways to compensate for periodic indulgences at church suppers, birthday celebrations, eating out etc.

6. How long did it take you to see results?

My diet changed SO RADICALLY that I saw results in the first week.
And I actually managed to lose 6 or 7 lbs during the Thanksgiving to New Years period while still enjoying the holidays!

7. When did you realize that you were a success?

When I got through the holidays still losing weight.

8. How do you prevent relapse?

In the past my relapses were related to:
a. my sugar addiction
b. boredom
My sugar addiction/craving has been dramatically curtailed by the 'diabetic' diet.
To avoid boredom, I have spent much time in acquiring an extensive list (and cupboard) of delicious healthy foods AND I have collected healthy food recipes from Calories.com and elsewhere.

9. How has your life changed now that you've lost weight?

I feel better physically.
I have more energy to do things.
I know, as I age, something could happen to my health and of course something eventually WILL -no one lives forever!- BUT, I feel that I'm no longer INVITING a heart attack, stroke, diabetes, cancer etc.
I feel attractive again ( I even got a couple of tattoos to celebrate and show off!)
I get clear feedback that women find me attractive.

10. What five tips do you have for other dieters?

1. Decide not to merely diet but to change your lifestyle. Tinker with your plan as you learn more, but stay with it.
2. Educate yourself about food values -calories, protein, sodium, fiber, whole grains, etc.
3. Weigh and Measure everything
4. Develop a program of regular exercise
5. develop your own list of many delicious and healthy foods and recipes.

THE NUMBERS:
Starting weight: 222 lbs. (11/1/09)
Current weight: 167 lbs (10/4/10)
Goal: 160 lbs.

Toos, not tats

2010-09-04T05:49:00.000-07:00

‘Toos’, Not Tats

..Though the world calls them "tats",
I myself call them 'toos",
'The reason?' you ask;
It allows me to use
The very silliest of puns:
like I say: 'Two newt ooze'.
(To confuse 'em is fun!
...playing around with my news)

No, not 'salamanders who lust',
I just needed more ink,
but tease them I must,
-Lord knows what they think:
'Oh, that guy is a hoot'
or: 'He's a senile old man'
or: 'That silly galoot-
Now there's one on his hand!'

I've a sister who says
I need a woman to boss me
(ie. to 'give me her hand'
and then double-cross me)
but I don't need to plead,
and I don't mind derision,
and I don't really need
*no adult supervision.

*Don't be picky! The double negative is 'poetic license'.

'Enter March!'

2010-02-28T20:19:00.000-08:00

Snow is receding,

dry dead grass now re-appears

-- Oh, for a green shoot!

http://www.peaceteam.net/bumper_stickers.php

2010-02-07T18:42:00.001-08:00

"Radicals Rule The Court"

2010-01-23T05:48:00.000-08:00

[On The U.S. Supreme Court's 'Citizen's United' ruling]

'Twas not the court's vicissitude,
nor 'legal fashion's' changing mood,
not the Constitution malconstrued...
They are... to corporate power glued.

...and you and I?
thoroughly screwed
....dude
-jorge999

'Encounter'

2010-01-22T07:20:00.000-08:00

Above the early morning fog
I hear a single songbird peep,
though, but for me she'd be unheard,
-the mountain cove is still asleep,

Then, through a rhododendron bush
a tawny forest beauty glides,
and seeming not to move one leaf
to taste the dewy grass she spies

She turns, and bends her slender neck,
then stops. -I made a tiny sound-
her eyes and twitching ears she lifts,
our gazes meet and my heart pounds,

her glance is cooler than a mist,
and, though the stranger stands so near,
She waits, and lets me stare and stare,
(She seems to be devoid of fear)

but like a runway manequin
she waits to let me have my fill,
then turns, walks through a leafy screen,
and as before, the woods are still.
-jorge999

'Not To Worry'

2010-01-22T07:17:00.000-08:00

It's just

a little

unrequited

crush,

that's all.

Like a tiny

muscle ache

(in one you

had forgotten

that you had)

It's not your fault,

of course,

That you are

'undelighted',

nor my fault

that a certain

Flame

Was not ignited.

There'll be

an awkwardness

at first,

(not bad)

and we'll be

sheepish,

and then

we'll laugh

(of course)

It hardly hurts

at all,

Don't worry dear,

The crush is

very small,

though

deepish.

--jorge999

'After Frost'

2010-01-22T07:14:00.001-08:00

The soil is lovely, moist, and deep
Where sprightly earthworms plow,
the springtime rains upon us seep,
though we don't feel them now,

No need to laugh, no need to weep,
no feelings, sight, or sound,
and no more promises to keep
beneath the fertile ground.

-jorge999

'Bold Point'

2010-01-21T21:24:00.000-08:00

No, this Bold Point is not
somebody's muscular assertion,

it's just a little neck of land,
--a spit-- a tiny foothold

of grass and sand
and lapping waves,

timidly, it pokes into
the River Providence,

Nighttime haunt
of who knows who,

it cringes, barely noticed,
on a busy city day,

buffeted by roar and whine
of highway traffic;

Magnet for the dreary plastic
residue of progress,

it's gentle beauty stained;

Somehow, it moves us,
now that we have stopped to look,

and so, we stoop

to gather up the pulltabs,
the hypodermic needles,

plastic no-deposit, no-returns,
the tampon applicators,

the diapers, papers, broken glass,
the deathless cups of styrofoam,

and all the random wrappers.

-jorge999

In 2003 on 'Dean Visibility Day' the writer was one of twenty Howard Dean supporters who spent the morning cleaning refuse from the beach at Bold Point Park East Providence Rhode Island.

'Will You Taste Some Irishness?'

2010-01-21T21:19:00.000-08:00

In 2003 around St. Patricks Day I started a thread on Irish poetry (entitled 'Will You Taste Some Irishness?') on the New York Times sponsored (and now defunct) abuzzdotcom. In the days leading up to March 17th I posted, each day, a poem by a different Irish poet.

When the NYT shut down that site, I continued the thread annually for four more years on Able2knowdotcom.

This annual enterprise was my response to the 'dumbing down' of Ireland and things Irish. (To too many people in this country, the word 'Irish' produces an instant association to green beer, drunken partying, and cardboard leprechauns).

The fact of doing those annual threads introduced me to a host of wonderful poets that I had not previously read, and turned me from a casual reader of a few Irish poets into an full fledged enthusiast.

To inaugurate the thread, I began with a little introductory poem of my own (below):

'Will You Taste Some Irishness?'

Will you taste some Irishness
in lieu of greenish beer?
Please sip of Heaney, Yeats, and Joyce,
Their verses are served here.

Draughts of loss and sadness too,
The Irish poets bring;
And yet...the tears a beauty make,
--A strange transfiguring.

Will you taste some Irishness
in lieu of greenish beer?
Please savor sorrow, pain, and pride,
and ancient flavors queer;

A trace of moon, and mist, and sea,
A poteen brewed of tears;
Of turf, and toil, and hate, and strife,
And love of country fierce.

Clarke, and Durcan, Kavanagh,
Are offered here to you,
Fallon, Boland, Hartigan,
O'Grady, Montague.

Drink, long and deep of Irishness,
It seeks the deepest part,
It curls around your human-ness,
And seeps into your heart.

-jorge999

'Rueing You Blues' (adult content)

2010-01-21T21:15:00.000-08:00

"I am not myself at all",
I told myself with dread,

"I need to find myself some help
can't keep my self abed!"

my friend is a geologist
but he politely said:

"I can't tell you anything
'bout the rocks inside your head"

an undertaker scolded me:
"come back when you are dead!"

Next stop was a urologist
-- I had a peer review --

he told me that my instrument
was "just as good as new."

I consulted, a proctologist
who examined my rear view,

he said: "You're looking good down here
...I want a date with you!"

So I ran to a psychologist,
quote: "Nothing I can do! ...

..let's see, your next appointment
is next Monday, half past two."

I finally found a man of God,
I knew HE'D make me new,

but preacher told me I should pray,
and somehow I'm still blue.

No expertise can help me now,
I'm surfeited with rue,

I just need to see YOU babe,
what's wrong with me is you.

-jorge999

'Time and a Bottle'

2010-01-21T21:13:00.000-08:00

alas, alack, and woe is me,

here's what's left at sixty-three:
insipid personality,

with good looks gone, and mind grown dimmer,

I sigh and wish that I were slimmer,

(and think too much of what's for dinner!)

But, it's not too late to live life risky

...I think I'll dissipate some whiskey.

-jorge999

'Waiting'

2010-01-21T21:10:00.000-08:00

Although my heart just wants to play
and cook a poem every day,
This mirthless mind of mine refuses...

So while I'm rueing what the news is
--and learning all about the blueses--
I guess I must await them muses.

-jorge999

'Love Story'

2010-01-21T21:07:00.000-08:00

the you
of you.

the woo
of you.

the rue
of you.

-jorge999

'Still Moving 2.'

2010-01-21T21:04:00.000-08:00

Not academe.....no rustic hills,

an undistinguished place,

One wouldn't --couldn't-- say it thrills,

but it now shall be my space.

Some, perhaps, are disapproving,

some are unaware,

to Christiansburg, I shall be moving,

which is neither here nor there.*

-jorge999 12-12-07

*with apologies to Joseph Brodsky, who said the same about Kalamazoo

'Dark Spring'

2010-01-21T21:02:00.000-08:00

April, cruel as ever,
left us sick and out of tune,
grown too old together,
we sat among our runes,
then foolish May brought her bouquets,
followed by jejune.

-jorge999

I Stole Something For You Today (for K.A.R.)

2010-01-21T21:01:00.000-08:00

No one got hurt,

I used no gun or knife,

but I purloined these words:

You light up my life.

-jorge999

'Haiku for C.W.'

2010-01-21T20:59:00.000-08:00

Oh, so much sadness!

your heart is still working though

it made this poem

-jorge999

'Readers Wanted: The Plan to Re-allocate Roles in Gather' ( a fable)

2010-01-21T20:50:00.000-08:00

A website where I publish poems somehow developed
a self-appointed group of 'serious poets'.
One even lamented in a post that too many 'worthless'
poems were cluttering up the site.

The following poem was my reply:

Storm clouds are gathering
Have you heard the rumours?
We are surfeited with poets,
and starving for consumers,

While the unwashed multitudes,
immune to our delights,
pursue their vile distractions,
'We poets' write and write,

though faithfully we follow
our literary leaders,
(whose work is deep, and dark, and dense)
still, we haven't any readers,

The problem simply stated friends
(I can't be too emphatic)
is just a little numbers game,
It's coldly mathematic,

'Eureka!' we have it!
shout our Gather poet-leaders:
'We simply need to RE-ASSIGN
BAD POETS INTO READERS!'

So, bad poets of gather,
Please show us your courage,
Your KNOW your poems are blather,
You KNOW they're boring porridge!

Please accept your new status,
acknowledge your betters,
and render due homage
To the TRUE men* of letters.

So now you've heard the plan,
Which I heartily endorse.
[I know they'll let ME stay a poet,
They like MY stuff... of course!]

What's that? What's that?!!
'Credentialing' you say?
err... mmm... I know I have it here somewhere
...my mail-order MFA

-jorge999

* and women

'Sublimation'

2010-01-21T20:47:00.000-08:00

I get some

solace

dear,

from writing

my misfortunes

down

in verses.

All the little,

(and not so little)

slings and arrows

and

reverses.

Now,

isn't that

more elegant

than...

Curses?

-jorge999

'Poem for the Disappointed'

2010-01-21T20:44:00.000-08:00

I posted an earlier variant of this poem shortly after Cardinal Ratzinger was named as the new Pope:

'Poem for the Disappointed'

Sequestered in An ancient hall,
-and praying- They await, 'The Call',
Churchly Princes -Princes all,

The throng awaits as in a thrall,
Teeming, swaying, on the mall,
and guessing,wondering, praying all,

But who is that one standing tall?
'Il Papa Novo' of them all!
(For some delirium, others gall)

Some spirits rise, and others fall.

O take me to the Wailing Wall....
The Holy Spirit dropped the ball.

-jorge999

'Snow On March 24, in Providence Rhode Island'

2010-01-21T20:40:00.000-08:00

In 2005 we had about one hundred inches of snow in Providence, and, like other years, as we approached the end of March we crossed our fingers hoping it was over.

...and then...

Snow On March 24, in Providence Rhode Island

Whatever You pour Lord,
We always drain our cup,
And we soulfully vow
to just, 'offer it up',

Plague and pestilence,
Quake, hurricane,
You've sent our way Lord,
We didn't complain,

We accepted our pennance,
We shouldered our pain
and willingly suffered
again and again,

Though Your Way is inscrutable,
We know that You know best,
We don't try to understand,
We just endure each test,

But on March twenty-fourth?
MORE white fluffy stuff?
Oh come on Lord,

Enough is enough!

-jorge999

'small hell'

2010-01-21T20:37:00.000-08:00

(for Amy, a waitress)

diners coast to coast

lonely men drinking coffee

and thirsting for smiles

-jorge999

'Mensaje en el Banco'

2010-01-21T20:35:00.000-08:00

'Mensaje en el Banco'

down, heavy
with self-reproach,
I told you everything.

You forgave..
and asked for nothing.

finally emptied,
I rode high in the water,

that day, in a bank
I saw the sign:

'Sin Cargo'

-jorge999

[note: 'Sin Cargo' in Spanish means, 'no charge' or 'free']

'Insipid'

2010-01-21T20:33:00.000-08:00

One evening as I sipped my tea
a fly fell in, unknown to me,

Careless and unknowing I
insipid fly

-jorge999

'Poem for David's Forty-fifth Birthday'

2010-01-21T20:30:00.000-08:00

For your birthday I could ululate
(don't worry, I will spare you that)
Or on your virtues I might perorate
...even improvise a little scat.

To dance for you, an old soft shoe,
might show you that I think you're keen,
but afterwards my joints might rue,
a too strenuous assertion of esteem.

Now, as I peruse a favorite book,
and ponder on what I should do,
and put it in the bookcase: "Look!
I haven't one copy, but two!"

So here it is,

Aging, but full of wit and wisdom,
-and a little scratch or two,
Come to think of it, this book
is... well...an awful lot like you.

-jorge999

'Del Cielo'

2010-01-21T20:27:00.000-08:00

(for Adela Genevieve)

What fury in those flailing limbs!
What spirit bursting out to meet the world!
They thought that you were fragile when you came,
but oh what fire inside a three pound frame!

Meet your tired mother girl,
and learn from whence you came:
a line of strong women.
...No shrinking violets, victims, or plain Janes.

You got here just in time my little Del,
This sorry planet's sliding into Hell
and prays for sturdy hearts like
yours to stop its fall.

PS
Pretty, tiny, baby girly
will you always be so early?
-xo grandpa

-jorge999

'Sue Pine'

2010-01-21T20:22:00.000-08:00

(For an old Girlfriend, Immune to my Charms)

Here's a line my long lost Sue,
to say that I still pine for you.

...still wishing that I had divined
how to get sweet Sue

Sue Pine.

-jorge999

'Still Moving'

2010-01-21T20:17:00.000-08:00

( for Rev. Bob C.)

This land doesn't know who walks on it, it cannot feel,
The mountain is indifferent to hooves or feet,
to wily snakes, to butterflies, to calculating spiders
and their reluctant meals,
to sweating climbers toiling upward on its flank,
and, indifferent to, by the roadside, the mangled deer
... still moving;

The busy creek, finding its way anew each moment,
talks to itself only, as it moves -but doesn't move-
down the hills and hollows;

The wind, gentle or fierce, -seldom calm- from West or North,
unknowing, whispers, shouts, or howls to no one in particular
-not even to itself;

Even the birds -the cardinals crows et al- that live and die
their birdly lives all around my own brief life,
feel nothing (in whatever hearts they have)
for you or me;

The little cemetery near my house, under The Buffalo,
beautiful, still, serene, holds its tiny piles of mostly ancient bones,
-not sad, it can't be moved, nor will it ever be-
and desperate tears that watered it in 1930, '56, and '63,
-those intermittent anguished mornings- now are gone;

The long-dead mountaineers, the farmers, woodcutters, whiskey
makers, mid-wives, violent men and tired women, barefoot children,
and one special man of God -all dead, silenced, gone,
dissipated molecules, and buried sacks of bones,
only their names remain,
on aging, time-worn stones;

This place, beautiful, uncaring, cold and indifferent,
One would be a fool to hold it dear,
-only a fool holds foolish sentiments,
and yet, long-past struggles, laughter, triumphs, tears,
babies crying, all the chestnuts.... dying, dying;

The oxen, the guns and whiskey, the frolics, the sickness, poverty, and pain,
the sly courting of eager lovers,.... the preacher's little toils of love,
all the life that lived here once, seems like it could happen once again,
...as if to see them now one turns a switch and, 'there!'
as in a once-dark room, all this...
still moving.

-jorge999

'Little Note' (for E.D.)

2010-01-21T20:14:00.000-08:00

My modesty's

well earned

in a lifetime

free of acclaim,

When I croak

no admiring bog,

nobody

knows my name

-jorge999

'Poet Ease'

2010-01-21T20:10:00.000-08:00

I don't know how to write with poet ease

-allusions, metaphors, and such as these-

I don't know how to obfuscate and tease,

with quotes from Latin, French, or Cantonese,

Though my kinfolk come from Ireland,

alas, I'm told my blarney's bleak and bland;

It seems that I was dealt a losing hand,

I'm doomed to write what plain folks understand.

-jorge999

'Pale Spring' (for GBL)

2010-01-21T20:06:00.000-08:00

A squirrel scolds,

I do not start,

daffodils

don't shout out loud,

the surly trees

refuse their part,

leaves

clenched tight

in buds ungiving,

know no joy

in love

or living;

A colder,

paler Spring,

since you depart,

the air warms slowly,

and the heart.

-jorge999 (April 2005)

'Reply to a Young Friend's Unsolicited Critique'

2010-01-21T20:03:00.000-08:00

I think that I will never be
A lit'ry poet such as thee,

Although I'm told my verses sing
(and dimples to some faces bring)

My poems can't be very good
-they're much too easily understood,

And yet they sing! (with quavering voice)
Sometimes they even sound like JOYCE!

Okay, okay! (confessing shames)
They're more like Kilmer, less like James,

And while I'm speaking of confessin'
...I didn't like your latest lesson,

My friend if I live long enough
I hope to grow, write better stuff,

And you, my bright precocious pup
May teach me more...... when you grow up.

-jorge999

'The Love Song of Kickycan' (adult poem)

2010-01-21T19:58:00.000-08:00

I'm Kickycan the lady's man

And you must surely know it,

Beneath this coat's what girls love most,

And I'm dying dear to show it,

My trenchcoat treasure's hid away,

Till just the perfect moment,

When you behold... and then bestow

Your most admiring comment,

I'm Kickycan the lady's man,

"My big best friend" I call it,

Come! touch it with your pretty hand,

It's oh so big...

...my wallet.

-jorge999

'Wee Poem'

2010-01-21T19:56:00.000-08:00

Wee Poem

A gem of a Gemini
A gem of a gem.....
....and I

-jorge999

'January 11, 2006' (for RC)

2010-01-21T19:52:00.000-08:00

Alas, it's true, no thing will last,
'Who's Paul McCartney?' (the young thing asks)

Where went the bright and curious lad?
The loving son? The brand new dad?

You're paying dues and taking licks,
and.... 'Omigod, two thousand six!'

You feel flushed? -- it's global warming,
Gone, gone, gone, America's morning,

Colonoscopies apall,
...fibre, fats, cholesterol,

On camera an aging Biden
(Foreheads wax and bodies widen)

Johnny Damon comes and goes,
Mother Earth's rotation slows,

Resolution's just a pose,
While spirit flags, and passion's froze,

Oh woe! the race is nearly run,
and Winter clouds block out the sun,

The world he knew is quite undone...

Raymond Cooney's Fifty-one!

-jorge999

'A Warning to My One Year Old Grandaughter'

2010-01-21T08:32:00.000-08:00

Prepare yourself for earnest lads

who'd woo you with their words of yearning,

for fervent swains --just like their dads--

who will declare their hearts are burning,

prepare for suitors bold and shy,

who every ruse and ploy will try,

get ready dear, for love-sick guys,

who'll stir the air with their deep sighs

--no surprise,

my dear you have your mother's eyes.

--jorge999 (August 2007)

'Mousely Science'

2010-01-21T08:22:00.000-08:00

"Researchers at the University of Calgary said in July 2007, that female mice in their study were not only sexually aroused by whiffs of male mouse pheromones but that the scent apparently made the females' brains grow larger. [New Scientist, 7-2-07]"

As one whose love of learning is sincere,
( oh yes, 'tis Science that I most revere!)

how marvelous -- and edifying, truth to tell--
to learn both love-sick male and female mice do swell

--albeit in their different mousey regions.

...Now, on behalf of untold curious legions

there is a nagging question I must ask you:
Are gay MALE mice's BRAINS tumescing too?

...as they sniff pheromones from mousey dudes
and their ... err... tiny nether places ...protrude?

This is a question that cries out for study:
"The Physiology of Mousely Buddies"

Oh, I can see it now! Some proud biologist is telling
gathered press about gay mice and BIPOLAR swelling!

-jorge999

NOTE: When I saw the above news clip on another site
my imagination got the best of me. -jorge

'Ode to Moderation'

2010-01-21T07:52:00.000-08:00

Overindulge, my lads at your peril:

A firkin here, a firkin there...

and pretty soon

you’re over a barrel.

-jorge999

'For Your Birthday: Free Pass For a Midlife Crisis'

2010-01-21T07:41:00.000-08:00

Birthdays come and birthdays go
but now you're FORTY-EIGHT you know,

Time to have your midlife crisis,
(second childhood is the nicest)

If you want to tint your hair,
or buy a sportscar, we won't care,

So what, your waistline is expanding!
family is ...understanding,

Think and do the most outrageous
and don't worry -- it won't faze us,

use this, your very own free pass
to go hog-wild, to drain your glass,

midlife crisis can be fun
(though when it's done, it must be done)

Oops! ...P.S. ...by the way,
this pass is valid for one day.

--jorge999

'At The Singles Bar'

2010-01-21T07:40:00.000-08:00

At the risk of seeming rude,

I gazed at you

...and now protrude,

do you think we could collude?

... nude?

--jorge999

'Ode to An Almost Perfect Lady'

2010-01-21T06:50:00.000-08:00

I think that I shall never see
A lady lovelier than thee,

A gorgeous eminence you are,
A goddess! ...yes ...an avatar!

Your words unfailingly inspire!
With love, you set our hearts afire,

In all of Earth's long history,
There never was one such as thee,

A scintillating, brilliant star!
A heroine --a SAINT! you are!

And your birthday, I must say
Should be declared a holiday,

So every year, with poem and prose
Your life and legend grows and grows,

One day your prophets will appear
And they'll declare for all to hear

*You walked on water, raised the dead,
and 'twill be scripture, all you said,

Your temples will be everywhere,
Your very name will be a prayer!

*PS
One teeny thing impedes this starting,
My dear, you MUST control your farting.

--jorge999

ABANDONED HOUSE, BUFFALO MOUNTAIN:

2009-10-10T11:20:00.000-07:00

a sad, abandoned country house
withers upon it's tiny hill,
what once protected, now is open,
and winds blow over broken window sills;

deeded now to bird and mouse,
to spiders and to who-knows-what,
sagging porch and empty rooms,
a kitchen wall with grease still spattered

from someone's long-past breakfast,
beside this crumbling kitchen door
children played and pattered,
laughter, cries, -- prayer-- used to fill this air,

No more.

ancient glass fragments, and
something like putty on the floor,
a frying pan, pieces of a shattered crock,
and --did someone throw it?-- a rock.

outside, a rusted plow, and this rubble
that might once have been a wagon,
nearer the house, lesser artifacts:
a medicine bottle, a shoe,

like the kin of those who strove here
-- scattered.

sunset and sadness come
as I stand among the runes,
trying to honor
something that mattered.

'Effluvium'

2009-06-20T19:48:00.000-07:00

When a bowel is dense and turgid
the sphincter flutters, [ it is urge-ed ]
struggles, relents, and finally passes
a tiny cloud of noxious gases.

Caesar, Brutus, Marc A and Cassius,
every single Roman --Gaseous
Garbo, Monroe, and Mork's sweet Mindy
None escaped -- ALL these were windy

Since ‘The Fall’, our recompense:
mortal man has flatulence
-- jorge999

'Still Single After All These Years'

2009-03-15T13:30:00.000-07:00

No great career or monuments,
 a simple single life,
 inconsequentially I've lived 
(no doubt for lack of wife)

Oh, I've known women --had my woes,
 but I ran away from joining, 
for this I took their many blows 
--and one, in fact, this morning,

from women scorned and weepy 
who wanted to be joined,
 from lovely ones, --and creepy-- 
whose feelings I'd purloined,

I've battled to stay free, you see
 till my brow's a sea of creases, 
but as my little life runs down,
and spirit flesh releases

I'll take the blows I have to take 
[ their fury hasn't ceased ] 
and one claim I can proudly make:
I'm lashed, but I'm not leashed.
-jorge999

'Faith Etc.'

2009-02-28T00:07:00.000-08:00

" When I state myself as the representative of the verse, it does not mean
me, but a 'supposed person'. " -Emily Dickinson (Letters)

Now, there are some --the doubters and the flouters-- who regard the
likelihood of being born-again with so much mirth,
--they won't be laughing though, when the rapture comes and they're
left standing, blinking, on a smoking chunk of earth!--

but, I digress, renascimento's what I'm really pondering,
not those someday sorry souls of lesser worth,
you see my preacher says you can be born-again 'Kinda gradual-like',
that it's not always 'All at once' with lots of halleluias, cryin', and grinnin',

He says sometimes it can happen so darn slow that you don't even know
that you've been saved, so you might just keep on enjoyin' sinnin',
until it catches up with you that is, and one day as you're walkin' out
the door
you say: "Oh! I get it! I've been saved! I guess I won't be sinnin' anymore."

Anyway, I was jest thinkin', "Lord, if you're gonna have me born again,
and for awhile I'll have to hang around all these sinners here on Earth,
Can't you help me twice, and do something nice about my excess girth?"
--jorge999

'Flame' (from: 'Notes To J.D.' 3-23-03)

2009-02-27T23:57:00.000-08:00

A flashing, blazing, fiery, hue
pure energy and passion,

But sometimes
slower, lower,
blue,
all tenderness, compassion,

An uncommon hero with a pistol on your thigh,
A tough-tender enigma, who can kick ass
and then cry.

You make it very clear to all that your boots
are made for walkin'
until you take them off that is,
and let your armor fall,

and then sweet
sweet talkin.'

--jorge999

'Posie'( From 'Notes to J.D' )

2009-02-27T23:41:00.000-08:00

Tall, and strong,
A very curious
kind of flower,

that will not wilt
with just the sweetness
of an hour;

You wilt not,
Though this storm
would have you cower,

battered, yes. . .
but standing,

like a beacon tower.
-jorge999

'On Your Birthday' (For Sarah)

2009-02-27T10:55:00.000-08:00

I’ll add my small appurtenance to this agglomeration
and say you’ve earned a boodle of familial adoration,

unlike the Lally usual --the verbose circumbendus--
this will be brief [ “Ha, ha, that’s rich!” ] I swear by my suspendahs,

Oh happy day! good luck! Good health! -- each wish to you I send,
My clever, caring, lovely niece: a Lally-Victor blend.
--jorge999

'RETURNING TO THE FOLD --AGAIN'

2009-02-23T16:55:00.000-08:00

Undulating piles of sordid duds
outstretched upon my bedroom rug

hung over chairs
bearing all the stench and stains,

worldly accretions, and body-secretions,
wrinkled, malodorous

--like tired aging sinners
yearning to be cleansed!

each week the sacrament begins anew,
each week they’re born again:

industrial strength baptism
at $1.75 a load,

yet even as I fold them now, I see the future clear:
they’ll be soiled, and they’ll be saved,
then they’ll be pure and bright,
and I’ll be folding them again, next week on Wednesday night
-jorge999 :-)

'Not Allowed'

2008-11-16T18:42:00.000-08:00

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'

2008-09-20T11:40:00.000-07:00

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'

2008-08-26T07:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-21T11:56:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-16T16:13:00.000-07:00

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.