Small thoughts

 

Victimless Crime

It was sunny
I was escaping a workday
on the way
Home
Winds were ice blades
Let me tell it.

One reality moving in another

There was the car,
It was warm inside, my
Mind on groceries, you know?
And this breaks into that.
Time, right lane turn coming,
Radio turned to NPR talk,

Pushing the car frame, whipping
Winds were so intent
Then by the left window
Suspended
the force held a captive
Iridescent color, green, grey, turquiose
A shape caught my eye

I saw a fan of feathers

The car was traveling 45 miles an hour
So I pulled my head back
Broke and impotently pulled right
Color and form would have crashed into the glass
 to die
At the level of my
Wandering  mind

The wind saved her, held her, gathered her invisibly
This pigeon
Defying gravity right in my line of vision,
a magic act
It was such a relief, frankly

A pigeon.
The one thing today I didn't
Regret 
Or carry along into the night
When I yelled and said

Terrible things.





Di.vid.ed Thoughts from a Teach.er Train.ing

My house now
Is one di.vi.ded
Open and clos.ed syl.la.bles
It stands on a crum.bl.ing foun.da.tion
Of want

All this time
To see that
Long vo.wels and short
My pri.ma.ry
Prob.lem
Is in the parts and rules

It can.not stand
Un.til I let it go
La.tin and Greek roots
Of need.ing to be
Seen
And un.der.stood
Past part.i.cip.les.


The Thinker

Her little head was bobbing
to the left  right, up down
Visualizing multiplying three numbers times one
Something shown to her just moments before,
She immediately wanted to do it, in her mind
And beat the kid beside her trying to cheat with a calculator
In the advanced third grade after school group


The beauty of it
Was catching her in the act of visualizing, to see her
The rapid incorporation of a new rule
Folded into her mathematical reasoning
"It's 248, 248, isn't is?"
It was 248 when worked out the long way
On a paper, she'd just flown there mentally.

How did you know? a teacher inquiry,
Her smile was infectious, with a giggle.
"I do it, " she sighed, "In here."
So she does, tapping that head
With the new crocheted cap in pinks
Dancing on one foot
Chomping her cheesy corn.



Immortal

It isn't unique
It drives us all
No doubt.
No doubt.

This ring
was given to me
By your Aunt Mary
I said it was beautiful
She said,
Here take it.

This is the story
Of my childhood
These were the things
That hurt,
Or the days when
I carelessly kicked a ball
Down a hill.
My first realization I could do bad things,

Here is the street I was
Born on.
Or the school that once was
Segregated
I was
Taught here.

That house on Maple
Freda lived there
Remember the cookies
We make
Every Christmas
I know you know
You made them for me-
Her's.

Come to think of it
I drew
That picture from
The zinnas Dad
Grew for me
His were
Extrodinary

When I went
To New York
With peter
I kept that tiny clown
Puzzle
From Coney Island.

That bracelet
Was
Right after the hysterectomy
It was on sale
100 dollars
I was out driving
First time in nine weeks
Fainted

For him
I wrapped up everything
my heart
Wrote it
on tissue
So he could
Not have time

The search for
that audience
the love
for the father to sit with an arm
Around me
Has never
Worked.

It's just a need I couldn't supply myself.

The Borderline

 

Awake at 5 AM, the truth of it
Came
From the boiling churning weeks
Of nightmares and sweats-

You didn't control that,
I was the "work friend" (that btw can't see your home)
You liked to jab that in my ear if you "allowed me" to drive you to your car place,
In the ruins you are now building

A long time ago
I started laying a new foundation in those cement blocks
Time, lessons, art supplies,
Crocheting, making, hooking it together, new wiring

Building a doll house comfort you stalked
Inviting you to share a floor of my talents
While you careened around in rumor
Grudges, self pity, vanity, Cruella driving her car

Trying on your pants, "I'm just so thin," evaporated as I thought about
What I'd be making in a soup if I ever got myself free
 My eyes blurring with the stress
Seeing you through another identical bitching year, just like the other bitching years

"I hate this place" was actually your mantra, it's so beneath you, poured like concrete
Only superseded by your blasting exit, reiterating it for everyone to chant, destroy it
When you then named me the source
Of your problems on some formal staircase, descending nude

It makes a lot of sense to go haunt in the basement
There were floors of gifts, favors, money, rides, lessons, time, days
Because you enjoyed making sure you consumed my time
To teach those hundreds, thousands of hours as you looked at the "O" magazine

Once you had me take a year half-off, share "your" position, so that you could fail
Another personal goal
Pointing a finger,  "She insists on going back full time," used me as your ready excuse
Commanding me as if I did break the deal you had insisted upon,


My mother really was my responsibility
Difficult, coming closer to her death, my anxiety real this year
You re-invented yours, trotted her
Out on an imaginary stage, oh the horror, for you. Poor you.

You filed twenty days dedicated to her care
At a San Francisco PHD 5 star hotel, with another guy to
Regal us with in 7 hour phone calls, what finally got me- it's just so easy for you to spin
Cobwebs in your attic,

Someone took care of my family through these antics
You pretended to be maternal, mucho, mucho, mucho
What made me decide that was enough- the stressing you claimed
Versus the actual health I had

The one thing I can do is art, did you celebrate an opening to do that for me?
No then you would be stuck here alone-I deferred in the name of friendship
While you happily got out a list, silently and privately
Transferred out, because, after all, you deserve a new happy life

You have it. Lucky charm.
But there isn't two ways
Not this time, you decided to try me
Convict me, stage the evidence, your elephant has a memory

That karma is yours.
My Legacy will be found in the hundreds of hours of your classes laminating,
Teaching them, going to get supplies at Michael's
Arranging, dying, crafting, watching a daughter hear your salacious sex tapes

My contribution to your welfare
Your health, will be nourished by the holiday dinners you certainly bulldozed
With a imperious demand for the timing and mom's effort to bag
What you've decided you are taking home, again no bread.

A bouquet of Gerber daisies
In exchange for abominable impropriety
A broken easel, yes, that would be your gift
She trots out a list or a record, or uses

A mind to recount and discount, calling it  a psychology
To shade, destroy, take to pieces, vacuum meaning
Dissect, sweep the floors, cross process- she calls it-
A friendship where one of us

Got to sit for two weeks over and over again protesting
That they said nothing, nothing, it was just a regular meeting
Her highness with the gavel aiming
At creating the worst situation possible, wanting servile ingratiation

She puts a lie on a paper
Framed by a sister- another super liar,
Hires a lawyer, she might use for a scarf
And gets hers.

If you weren't already
A work of artistic fiction
Someone would invent your character
To roam the halls of a truly ungrateful Pottery barn Silicon Valley nightmare house.

My Son Luca Is Eighteen

 

Well you want to say
      don't

drive
drink
skate
grow up
move away

But at eighteen

things are out of my control
spinning

so
have a good birthday
son



What is it to be a man?

licenses
responsibilities
jobs
direction
shedding shedding tears
soldiering
protecting
sports
girls

condoms
it's a lot of things
that this momma forgot
to tell you about

 
 My Son

Eighteen years ago
my water broke in a bathroom shower
But you weren't ready quite yet
The next day you were delivered from distress
Like Caesar the doctor said umbilical cord wrapped
Around your neck
Around and around
Depriving you of oxygen
I watched the heart rate monitor go to nothing in contractions.


When we came home
This luv of a baby kept
My mom and I suspended in time
With his two sisters he had four women
For years that were even willing
To speak for him
We were the masters of interpreting
the Lucster.

Luca threw the ball against the wall
Catching it in his glove
From 9 months on
Right over my head on the couch
A hardball!
A master of physical nuances
Cracked a baby tooth throwing his head forward once
I cried all night over that
Ate a Christmas bulb
On the worst day of my life

Played Tball and hockey,
Football, baseball,  coached by his dad
Skated, rollerbladed, knocked
Around oblivious to injury
Making baskets
Gathering friends
The boy he was, that held my hand
quietly through cancer

We went to Angel's games
Celebrated champions
Lost gracefully
Ate our cookies, made our art
Enjoyed our holidays,
loved doughnuts,
Honeybuns and sausages.

Wore the Green Bay jersey
Until it fell from his shoulders
Brett Farve disintegrating
From daily use,
Briefly sported Harry Potter glasses
Laughed with Pepe
Acted in plays
The biggest baddest sweetest wolf in town


Called poppa Black Pete
The Principal Pirate and cried
To a kinder class that Daddy was
Drinking beer in Red Ribbon Week
And his parents were doomed
Because you felt it so strongly
Missing that this was
not intended for a Dad downing
one a month.

If there is a silent observer
In the universe of stars
It sees you treat your grandmother
With a love
That sustained her
And recorded in the book
Of life your love of family.

Your art soared and your skills
Like your Mom's were a gift,
a surprise.
That ability to do something
Before you realize you can't.
 It's wonderful-
You are wonderful.
The combination of two
People that love you dearly.

And always will.

 


Line drives
Ukeleles
Calm
Angular

Vernacular
Elan vitale
Roaming
Night owl
Observer
Nice

Pugnacious
Upper deck
Guitar
Lean
Inscrutable
Skateboarder
In-between

Luca Vernon
at eighteen




You've taught me about vulnerability,
You've taught me about competition,
You've instructed me in patience
Shared your fears.

You've taught me about breaking down a task,
You've taught me about losing
You've instructed me in family
Shouldered my burdens.

You've taught me a few tricks,
You've demonstrated moves for me,
Instructing me in fine points
Polishing my understandings.





Sons

Was it just me
Or do our sons
Remind us
to feel
the importance
of friendships,
praise,
actions
words,
and the
incredible
power
we have
in relationship
one
to
another?



May this day bring you the gift
Of time and the journey
May the day be bright, forward looking
Filled with promise
May your day be greener
Sweeter, more delightful
as we celebrate your
Eighteenth journey around our sun.



Poems by his momma, Sarah Puglisi

self portrait

 art

there was a bush by the side of the house
the branches formed a feline spine
dried fuzzy balls filled the form
of a last minute art project
that became a grade sitting somewhere
in my hurried hall of make believe

 bikes

for twelve dollars when I was fourteen
my first
Dad didn't notice the frame was for a person over six feet and male
bikes pumped
from a kabuki taken by a boyfriend
to shoes I drew
till I was told I couldn't ride ever again
 

 crosses

I've born some
lifted a few
hung a couple
worn a hopi one
looked at them
sent one to a dying woman
made them
hauled my moms
handed them over
but never
lost mine

 dandelions

wish upon a star
blow a dandelion
lie back on the grass
feel time

 evening

walking home
bitter cold
carrying packages
cigarettes
going up synder
straight up
holding on to thin hope

 felt

a very forgiving fabric
helped me make doves
puppets
silly caterpillars
mobiles
the gift of the magi

grass

this takes a minute-
it grew fast
in our yard
i'd pull on a bathing suit
get the mower out
dream that the tan i got
might attract someone
to our hilltop
in a sweating coal mining state
finding me like a marilyn-
admiring my industry
I'm that naive

 home

must go where you are
because
i don't know where mine really is

illness

sat down
in my frame
choking from me
a scream

job

raw fear

kids

the first baby
was one in a small room
looking red
hollering
wet diapers
come to church
to my short stint
in the baby room

then it was the twos and threes
assigned to sit
taking candies
to the children
my art teachers'
a friends daughters'
until kids
were my days

 

 love

wasn't like the eromance i just finished
with the guy who took in a waif
determined to protect and defend
touching her hand so slightly
coaxing her to soft sheets
it was more the capacity
to give and give up

 memory

there are huge gaps
that sometimes fill like a tide washing in
draggin a world of teeming life
to flounder on my shore

 nudes

whatever god did to adam and eve
he must have dosed me with it
double
because I can only look
at a nude when it's so secret an act
that it's forbidden and shameful-
naked truth

opinions

don't ride motorcycles
take care of the poor
never kill
no guns
avoid using margarine
republicans are horrible
no fresca
sports highlights suck
whole language works
neosporin on cuts
karma bites

poppies

glads, dahlias, snaps, cockscomb
violas, violets, pansies, roses
zinnias, snow on the mountain
lilacs, daffodils, crocus, peonies
marrigolds, sage, petunias, morning glories
larkspur, columbines, dogwoods

 queens

those older women
that loved me
took on a project
folded, starched, whitened, tucked me away deep in a drawer
life started in a  hope chest

 rocks

when you can't buy a souvenir
and you don't know why
you want to carry a time or place along with you
you pick up the rocks
storing them in boxes
your stash of yesterdays

service

from the day you arrive
you are in a position of service

talk

communication
words
thoughts
smoke
signals

 ugly

or beautiful

vaccination

they came into the schools
lines went on for hallways
as you waited
i fainted
treated to the disgust of a woman in white

 woman

my heart
is that
of a woman

xrays
wont find a break
I know is there

yes

perhaps was
given away
far more
than I can
explain

zen

would be
a place
without
and within




this was a quick assignment....think of a word and jot some thoughts about my "self"
I can't find me

The Perigee Moon

A head turned to the moon last night
Bright reflecting, 4 in the morning
This May moon crossed the vast spaces
Those pointing at the brilliant luna
Those who barked out to leave them on their couch
A romantic fell to two poles
One sending her out alone
The other suggesting she learn about those in her life
Either holding cold reminders of her looking alone
Upon the perigee sitting full in her Pacific sky
Reflecting over the waves
Oddly lighting a silent evening
In the eucalyptus grove.

"Learn more about the people that share your world"
Like the child across her town curled in her bed
Who is praying her dad will not shoot her mom,
Over worrying about her leukemia.
Because in her class another family suffered that.
Learn more about the child that sleeps in the park,
Homeless these last three years,
Learn of the fears, the suffering, the things that they face
Because, somehow, she's missed the lessons?
Waiting for the oaf who sent her to bed with a
"Go look at the moon yourself and quit screwing with me"
Learn of that man who
Might one day take some interest and accompany her
To see a moon just for the sake of its beauty?

It's the moon, silly
Not a finger pointing at the moon.
She has long perceived the difference,
It was brilliant last night
When she laid her gentle hand
Upon it's lovely face and wiped away
The tears sluicing down the cheeks
To offer up again her adoration, the velvet night
Caressing both with her vibration
Coming close to whisper into the night's being
The caress of life.

Just be.