My Book of Poetry
This is a Book of
Poetry of my travels
around the world


My Book of Poetry



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Colors That I've Seen In Strange


Yellow lines of green poles

Upon a red and blue of black

And gold and silver hues

And yellow bright of various tints

And purples, circles of mauve blocks

To accentuate deep purples

And bright lime and fiery red

Coupled with twin red planetoids

Encircling darkening moons

With reddish dots on brown:

Sixteen blue comets with tails

Of blazing pink and yellow particles

And green and red and brown of leaves

Reddish to orange of burning wood

And silver linings of white clouds

And deep orange of melodious orioles

Swirl with brown and yellow

Of swaying cattails in murky ponds

With circled red and yellow of deadly coral

And greenities of forest trees

And lenghty browns of telephone poles

And stark black of naked night...

Total dark and total black.

- 2 -


O Gentle Giant


O Lord of the deep, I suffer your agonies:

The agony of being pursued by your
enemies

You are the gentle giant of our seas

A marvel to he who sees

Your greatness and your power.

But short is the day, the hour,

Of your stay upon this earth.

I suffer, yes how I suffer your hurt,

Which is not deserving of your existence:

Gentle giant, living alone, seeking
co-existence

With the "supposedly rational beings"

That pursue you; your ill meetings

Upon the waters of destruction...oh horror

To see your majesty stilled, torn asunder.

In films I've seen those fortunate,

Nay, blessed are they, these Cousteans

That you've allowed your majesty

To touch and feel with awe.

If after life, I came again,

I would ask for your existence

And then, being with you akin,

I would touch upon your magnificence.


-3-





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O Lord above, look upon your creation

And preserve it now from devastation:

Give it refuge in your ocean deep

And its wondrous being may you keep.


¤ ¤ ¤


I Wish You Were Here Now


I wish you were here now:

Oh how I do.

I'd stroke your black hair,

The silver within and

Softness throughout.

I'd feel the firmness of your head,

So strong and sensitive

Your head is -

I wish you were here

So that I could tell you

That I love

You.


¤ ¤ ¤

- 4-

People


People, people see how they are?

People

Caucasians and Negroes

Whites and Blacks.

Latins and Greeks

All of them occupying a little

Spot on this Earth.


People people see how they fight?

Money and property and worldly things,

All occupying a spot in the hearts of

People

People people see how they fight?


Old men and women die each day

Young do too.

It's not sad it's just natural.

We all die sometime...

White Black Yellow or Red

Yellow Red Black or White

Black Red Yellow or White

Red Black White or Yellow...

We all die sometime.


-5-





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People, people living and dying

And fighting

Fighting to live

Living to fight.

Each one of us occupying

One spot on this earth

Each living, dying, fighting and

Loving on that one spot.


People loving people

That's what counts

People of all colors and beliefs

Living Dying Fighting

On their own little earth.

1967


¤ ¤ ¤


I Cried


I saw a seal die, I cried

I watched a yellow butterfly

And saw a net take him away.

I saw a woodpecker, red and blue

Shot down today upon the ground;


-6-





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I saw a fire blacken what was green

In a lofty forest close, close by

I saw a man light a fire

That destroyed these great big trees;

I saw many fishes in the sea

That the colors of the rainbow;

I cried and shouted at the sea

To wish her home the safest be:

I watched an eagle and a hawk

One day in a year, once in a month.

I looked and searched for a buffalo

Far and wide, to see the strangeness

of it

But naught I found, not anywhere,

Til one day in a zoo, I saw the buffalo

I saw a species so rare and great

And prayed for the life of this buffalo.


¤ ¤ ¤


Velturian Heroes


Across the Sunian Seas of Sultar

They came on their Subian ships

Awaiting the great Sphoxians


-7-





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Where they had first seen them.


Long Loitian masses stretched forth

Their gold and silver wastes

Beckoning the warriors to their sides

Facing as they did the Great Sunios


A voice they heard from the Sphiis:

"Go back to Sau Seelda in the Heights

Go back 4X and Green Kataiyo...!

Only danger lurks in the Os Plains.


You will not find what you seek

For I have changed your dreams

To a molten Dursonian Fire so bleak

That the dead will face you boldly


And he will destroy you if you come

Zanu, Moisial and CKoss the Gallant:

They were spared for the Os Plains

And still labor there with the coming Deathe.


Cros Xilda the Powerful is hungry

For your children's morois flesh;

He will be thus appeased, O race,


-8-

For the Moon of Valmira shall soon rise.

Oct. 30, 1965


¤ ¤ ¤


The Umbrella


Umbrella in the corner - black

How funny your uselessness

Till rain comes to give you back

Your comforting presence and usefulness.


¤ ¤ ¤


Dust


Dust to dust thou art

Dust! Dust! Dust!

Remember you shall return to Dust.

You're a human and it's a must

That you return to dust,

So do not fuss

Nor should you cuss

And certainly never lust

But rather think: "Heaven or bust!"


- 9-





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As you await the fatal rust

That shall turn your bones to dust.

Dust! Dust! Dust!


¤ ¤ ¤


Cats


Hateful little creatures that demand love

Also demand their place in life.

I would not hurt you, selfish felines

For without you, in this great big world,

There would be lacking simple grace.


¤ ¤ ¤


Hail To Noble Commercialism


Proud men are we to live our days

In such a world as I have found

To be of such a state as we

Have advanced to the highest degree.

We are learned and most practical.

Our screens reach bright minds

And none but the intelligent comprehend.


-10-





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Our noble commercials are unique

As doves we train to fly in kitchens

Where green giants lurk quietly

Awaiting to pop up out our washers.

Lady fair, splashed with mud,

Have no fear the white knight is here.

Learned men do stake their lives

And would rather fight than switch.

Society has reached its epitome

And men speak with such trains of thoughts

That do confuse the average brain

And oe'reach the smiling savants.

Perfectly simple are some minds

That look upon he who eats his hat

Because his cravings are finally ended

As his lips do press the ethereal power

Of a cancer-breeding filter cigarette.

Such men rule our world?

Simpleminded, be yet proud to think

That such a group is still in minority.

Nov. 24, 1965


¤ ¤ ¤




-11-





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Central Item #1


Living vessels of red and blue

Which function as any organs do

Into your halls transverse the cells

That do the honor as Nature tells.


When line does break

And blood forms lake

A gifted steel

Must mend and heal.


Hail to hands that fashion thee

That gifted two that renders free

As life to Death remains anew

And wins to Hell its promised due.


When rupture's done

Our life is gone

Less chances hath

A Hemostat.


(In commemoratione festivitatis

Immaculationis Conceptionis 12/8/65)



-12-





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The Four Seasons


Was it the poet who one day asked

Ancient Time to judge the one

Among his daughters four so fair

That would receive the jeweled crown?

Time

"Speak to me of goodly things

That charm all men, princes and kings."

Winter

Father hear what I have done

To give soft snow to sullen plains

And paint the trees with purity:

To redden cheeks of laughing imps

And decorate the window sills

With silver spikes of melting ice.

I've given Earth a jeweled coat

That she may wear in shining dress.

Spring

Sister mine, hear my words

That you may know I lack not grace.

Melting snows I've put to use

And showed the course of mighty rivers

While melting brooks have sung to me

Of shining lakes and flowered fields.


-13-

I've brought my Sun to freezing Earth

That she may feel my gracious warmth

Summer

With roses have I decked the fields

And fertiled soil with copious gifts

With blessed warmth I've cooled the Sea

And filled the skies with chanting birds.

I've called all creatures from their homes

That they may gaze upon my face.

I've given Earth vitality

That she may bear her sons some fruit.

Autumn

Sisters three, let me speak

Of colors that I've spread afar:

Trees have boasted to the flowers

All their colors bright and gay.

A multicolored coat I've donned

To match and pass your jeweled coat.

Breezes whisper to the leaves

And cloudy skies announce my rain.

Time

Be not pound and so severe

With each other, for I fear

You do neglect to see your ties,

For without one all Nature dies.


-14-





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My choice is hard and I refuse

To pick a one while three do lose:

Share the crown in unity

And serve each other eternally.

(Nov. 25, 1965. Thanksgiving Day)


¤ ¤ ¤


Ode To A Jar Of Peanut Butter


Round and round you stand so there,

All full of gooey brown and dare

To honour golden bread or white

With raptuous hunger and appetite.

Let me stick my index with haste

And swirl your gooey nutty paste

And when I've licked your golden oil

Another day I'll face and toil.


Oh shame of shame and a crime too

That you are not so well reknown

But somewhere high you'll get true due

And someday a lovely golden crown

Will top your roundish pretty sphere

And worlds will rejoice for eterna-year.


-15-





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I Look At People


I look at people, wonderful people

Made up of so many, each and every one

So different in his and her own way.

I see myself everywhere...but no one sees

me.


I long to touch and be touched

Confident that I am alive,

Then Life, with all its drudgeries

Flows, like a whispering stream

And nourishes all that's beautiful.


The feel of a man upon my body

Thrills me to no end.

The loyalty of a faithful dog,

So obedient, so loving

Strong and helpless...


I am in awe of the majesty and beauty of a

tree,

A giant reaching for the heavens above.

A life so frail at its birth

With care and wonderment


-16-





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Grows to such height, such beauty!


I love the beauty of the sea,

Oh mother, you comfort me:

So blue and green and full of mysteries,

Such power and beauty

Such despair and hope.


¤ ¤ ¤


Joe


Joe...Joe, are you listening to me?

Joe...try, please try and understand

That I love you.

I love the power that is in you,

The power that makes you what you are.

You're beautiful in so many ways,

Your soul...is beautiful.

But there is a foreigner in you

That I reject for I do not understand

That is the one I want to know,

That is the one I've yet to know.

Do you understand me, my Joe?

Do you?


-17-





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I want your understanding of what

I am.

I know the boy in you, the young

Strong boy

Who does not want to die but live on.

Listen, my Joe, and you may

Understand.

Be strong...but what is strength?

To fight your battles and win?

Yes, my Joe, you are very strong,

But...be much stronger if you want.

First recognize the weaker

And take care of the less fortunate.

God made you a man, My Son,

A dark and handsome man,

But believe in yourself and others.

Joe do not hurt the one who loves you

But listen and understand

That he loves you so.

Let sex be beautiful

As the joining

Brings two worshippers of

Truth and love.

Love for what is...so sacred and

Happy.


-18-





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Accept the one for what he is

And love him much more for him.

Be patient and firm

Be happy inside

Be thankful for the touch

Of another, know

That love is the sharing

Of two, loving as one.


I know how I miss you

But I don't know where I stand.


Do you miss him Baby?

Yeahhh...I miss him.

I look at his picture

And want to love HIM!

A sexy man he

A beautiful person he.


A black man sitting there...

Looking like he want to talk to me.


Toto Giovanni Laliberte

With love like in his eyes.

¤ ¤ ¤


-19-





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I Think I've Lost A Friend Tonight


I think I've lost a friend tonight

A friend one dreams of having

A friend one dreams of being with,

Talking to and going places with;

I've looked at him for a while

And seen such a man, a man

That would surely be impossible

To have for your very own,

A friend upon this friendless field

Who'll love you and keep you.

When I am with him and look

At those eyes, I see fire and love,

And I know, he is my friend:

I'll love him till I die.


Charles has touched me and gone

And perhaps I've not touched him:

I've felt his brow and handsome face,

I've seen the love upon his lips

And tasted it there in kisses,

So warm as would give warmth

To my inside, my heart inside,

Beating for his love.


-20-





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I am lonely, I am lonely:

He's said that I am lonely,

That's why I want him:

Yes, I'm lonely and

Afraid to lose his love


I've lost a friend tonight:

A man named Charles I love.

I'll go through life and think of

Charles.


¤ ¤ ¤


Alan


Footsteps have gone, sounds faded

Reality is gone:

The moon has been, as have the pines,

The sombre rocks, the heavy sand,

The towering cliffs, the whispering

Sea,

The colored sky, fiery horizon

Reality is gone

Sweet solitude ensues.



-21-





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I see that moon, never before

Such beauty in circle, the brightest

Symbol that lights yon pines in

Sculpture

A perfect chisel of barked giants

That stand in solitude before

The moon, that beauty encircled.

Such a moon has been, I've never

Sensed

And that sunset, the colors original,

No man can duplicate:

Such beauty!


Futile words to call your attributes

Show but imperfection in perfection,

Give me this night forever

That I may gaze upon your majesty

Please give me this night again.

Footsteps again, voices once more:

Flee Reality, spoil not my dream

(Ah it is you)

No sweeter Reality have I seen

Nor ever will.

It was nice to meet as two

And return as one.


-22-





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Speak My Heart


Speak my heart and tell me why

You have not lived these days gone by

So that you died each day and night

To free your body and your might.

You've loved for once as ne'er before.


I've stilled my heart a thousand times

And turned away to hide the pain

As when you did seek to find

And yet I dared not speak my heart.


I've had a warmth as ne'er before

That made me live a thousand times

For those I died and yet

This warmth did pass on by.


Sweet stilled shining soul, I ask

Of thee but a gem to give

So that I hold so close to heart

Because she's left - a part - apart!


I've stilled my heart a thousand times

And can no more forbid its due;


-23-





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My heart must speak to thee, my friend:

"I know not what means my love

And must express with no sounds

What tempests pervade my soul

And must say now what mortals try

But never succeed, for `tis unsaid.

I've loved you a thousand times before

And multiply anon for ever more.


¤ ¤ ¤


I'd Like To Spend Some Time With You


I'd like to spend some time with you

A few hours in a day;

I think those hours spent with you

Would be spent in a meaningful way.


It's nice to spend some time with you

And do some things together;

It seems the time has come and gone

And sunny is the weather.


Perhaps you bring the sun with you

And brighten up the day


-24-





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And yet the dark clouds up above

Are not too far, far away.


I like to feel your raven hair

The softness that is there

And wonder at the blackness too

And smell the fragrance, O so fair!


I like to talk with you, my friend

Of things we both enjoy;

The little problems that we mend

Are turned to laughter and some joy.


¤ ¤ ¤


Sonnet to Mary, Our Loving Mother


















Beneath His Cross, a pure and lonely heart;

The Savior dead -- a piercing thorn, a dart;
A mother's
grief, yet still, love does

part

From that pure heart, God's greatest work

of art.


God's perfect handmaid, tenderness and

bliss

- 25 -





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Her Son's betrayal by that sinful kiss;

And yet her love, without a single miss,

Shines through our hearts, in Life's deep

sad abyss.


O Queen of Love, your pure heart like a

shrine

For seekers of His Love, thy Son Divine.

On bended knee, my plea to thee, Benign:

To mold my heart into a shrine like thine;

So in eternal sleep, host to my soul,

I may rejoice on seeing Life's sweet goal.


¤ ¤ ¤


Miscellaneous Night


To chase the sounds of air beating upon
cliffs

Where now is the darkness spread

And see the blue of sky unreachable

The silver glitter of moon rays on sand,

The soft touching of the soothing stream

Against the palm of outstretched hand

And the yellow of sunny days,


- 26 -





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The green of lofty pines

The black of windless night

Covering meadows and hillsides

Where waits the stony silence

And the cruel cold of zephyred time,

To blow a sound and watch it emanate

From blueish lips on frosty morn:

This and more would I seek to find

That Nature and her consorts possess in
kind.


¤ ¤ ¤


Love


I cannot define this word

But to calm my sorrow fed

And look upon a fair soul

Which can give all itself to me

If it retracts and halts its move

then morrow comes to erase the blaze.


¤ ¤ ¤




- 27 -





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Elysian Forests of Green


Singing forests I have heard

Swaying softy as their seed

Does fly to giving sustenance

With nature's blood they grow and feed

Until a younger set of trees

Upon the ground the crust does break

And grows to stern and stronger foes

That lift their boughs for parent's sake

To bidding birds their branches hold

In shades of green themselves do dress

To artist's color threefold green

A challenge to his brush no less

Nov. 1965


¤ ¤ ¤


Let Me Be Free


Let me be free

To walk upon the ocean sands

And feel the cosmos of distant lands:

Let me be free

To look out over the swirling waves


- 28 -





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And know the peace of earthly days:

Let me live free

In lovely forests all green and fresh

And the feel therein the coolness on my
flesh:

Let me live free

Away from metropolises of despair

That cloud my thoughts with worry and care:

Please make me free:

So when I see a forest or a sea

I feel evermore sweet peace and tranquility

Please, make me free!


¤ ¤ ¤


A Sonnet

In Memory of our Principal's Departure


Many a time you've greeted us at the
counter

Your smile, dissipating those sad Monday
blues;

We were grateful and laughed at your jovial
cues


- 29 -





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When at Faculty Meetings th'Agenda began
to flounder.

You've left us much, oh so much to ponder

And whate'er lies ahead, whate'er ensues,

May it be for you Good Fortune and Good
News,

Success and Happiness be your encounter.

As we reflect on your stay here at our
school,

We'll not forget such wonderful and
memorable events

Such as the Festival, the Olympics, and
Shakespeare
Faire,

Our computers, our better campus, and
Year Round
School.

And though each and everyone, your
departure now
laments,

Ne'etherless, our best wishes go with you
and a sincere,
"Take care".


¤ ¤ ¤


A Poem On Senseless Slaughter


Is it right to kill a deer


- 30 -

A nightingale across the sky

A deer or two with white tails

A lovely egret, a sweet bird too

To bash the poor seal's head

To cut the scales of cod

To chop the neck of fowl

To shoot and maim the big brown bear

To stone the yellow of butterfly

To smash the design of beetle's back

To spear and blast the awesome whale

To cut and eat the buffalo's meat?

Is it wrong to decimate our lovely birds

To hunt in sport the extinction of mammals

To wear the softness of a young white seal

To walk upon Nature's prehistoric past

To remove a species from the skies

To laugh at this, and cry for this

To boast of this, and lie for this

To eat of this, to shoot at this

To enrich ourselves and impoverish earth?


¤ ¤ ¤





- 31 -





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An Unfinished Poem


In a field fragrantly-flowered

Where green flowing carpets

Strewn with sweet violets

Doth attract the eye

I have found myself.


I have rested, slightly demurred;

Yet Sleep stealthily sought...

Awak'ning, I see naught.

I fear and I cry

For blindness has come.


Around me a noise does now pass

Strikingly familiar!

Towards this harbinger

I reach out my hand

Striking it in flight.


I grope in the sweet-dewéd grass

Till I do touch the bird.

Small t'is...and so bestirred!

Try to understand

Why I am thus blind?


- 32 -





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I feel its very little wings

And spread them tenderly,

Placing it on my knee

I stroke it, heave it

Hoping renewed flight.


Hum! Hum! how beautiful it sings

`Tis that bird littlest

To all flowers, a guest

I know by its flit...

`Tis a hummingbird.


The bird then flew around my head

And seemed to bid me follow

I arose and followed him --

I was still blinded, but how?

Nevertheless I followed after.


Then the sweetest fragrances

Arose and reached mine nostrils.

Before me came a rustle

As of flowing satin gowns:

I asked the stranger to speak


"Oh listen, be ye mortal or God,


- 33 -





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Do tell me t'cause of my plight

Speak and do instruct me,

(Blinded --

But how has this happened)?"


"Mortal, `tis the goddess of this field

That doth speak to you.

Ignorant am I of thine sort

But help shall I render to thee

For thy benevolent deed."


"O goddess sweet, I do thank thee.

I see thee not, yet I know thee.

My mind doth encounter kindness;

But yet, Sweet Lady, tell me kindly

Of which good deed thou speakest of?"


"Your cause blindness, I do not know

But I did see a wondrous deed

Performed by you just now, Mortal.

Thou has forgotten thy faith and

Helped Orïnger, mine messenger."


"Thou speaketh of yon hummingbird?

True I did strike it down, but not


- 34 -





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Intended was mine action. My

Heart did next direct my hand and

Did grant thy friend continued flight."


"Thus I reward thee with this counsel:

Sharpen thine ears to Orïnger's hum

And follow him closely and attentively

To a fragrant singing stream thee'l lead

And there bid thee drink with thine hand.


But listen take heed!

Thou must be careful

To drink only with palm

For water must touch

But thy lips and thy hand!"


I thanked the goddess and made my way

Following yon hummingbird's hummin'

I felt the soft breeze upon m'visage

And I could see nothing.

At last Orïnger's voice ceased


Before me flowed cool waters singing

And fragrant perfumes touched my

nostrils


- 35 -





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It was a most beautiful and sweet sound

That came from this stream

I approached and kneeled.


¤ ¤ ¤


Mercury (Sensuality)


Young and handsome with the traits

of a god of strength

Perfect is he to mine eyes.

He is simple and desirable to behold,

You see there, nude, he lies.


I want to approach him with

strong desires

And tell him of his beauty

But I know that he will soon forget

very soon

That day when Azacar played his tune:

Mercury spread your wings of fire

And come to your slave

For I long for you with desire,

And the touch of your body I crave.

Oct. 30, 1965


- 36 -





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Trodden Paths of Peace...


Trodden paths of peace have passed

To usher in naught but golden memories

Which now bathes a dying soul

With fleeting joys and sorrows;

Prayers have whispered to the wind

Among the green and brown of Earth,

Competitive to sweet birds' chants

From stations to Cross, meditations:

Serene Soul, which was then

But now troubles itself in storms

Self-creating created, as faith flees

No blue of sky reconciles purity of soul.

Beads have passed through sinless fingers

As Aves dutifully lip-dropped;

Harbor's Cross stood high as

Its blue lights announced afar

The holy grounds of this seminary,

Its trees, its sanctuary, its chapel.

Lingering memories scoff and say:

You've lost a treasure, peace in your soul.

Nov. 23, 1965 347 dies


¤ ¤ ¤


- 37 -





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Ode To A Thumb Tack


Hail to thee bright sphere of strength

Who hangs upon this wall all day:

You've pierced many a tender bosom

As well, the eyes of poor innocent.

Many faces have shown your surface

Smiling gay or deepened sad:

A mirror and a dart you own

To please the homely and pierce the sot.

You will survive the days

And will be crowned amaz'd;

May you be enshrined and praised

While your light blinds all adazed.

Days will come when men will bow

Their heads with tears upon their brow.

"God grant that this here tack

Will live forever in our mind...

May its beauty never lack

And men to beauty be ever kind."


Audite et legite haec verba docti

stulti discipuli. Nam scitis nunc!

Dec. 7, 1965 216 dies





- 38 -





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"La Neige"


A wonderland of purity I've often seen

But never stopped to gaze upon this
shining scene.

Children from the North have often seen
this gift

That falls upon their homes and fields and
villages.

Forests spread their timber up toward the
skies

And woodland creatures welcome winter with
their cries.

Roses died and left their earth with gloomy
sighs

Where now upon the Earth a silver carpet
lies.

Nov. 8, 1965 605 nox


¤ ¤ ¤


An Unfinished Poem


Sot sweet singing stilled soon

As shining seas reflect yon moon


- 39 -





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Upon a mirror moves the Muse

To tell the tale of History's ruse.


A wooden horse in days of old

Defied and won a nation bold

Because the weak were strong-willed

In the horse their hosts had filled...

Nov. 2, 1965 754 nox


¤ ¤ ¤


Christmas Away From Home


How different it is here from fair New
England

For there are no four seasons, there are no

Beautiful changes in the trees, no White
Christmases

And skating rinks, there are no
rosy-cheeked kids

With mittens and earmuffs, struggling to
play

Hockey on a backyard pond; there are no
spruce

And pine forests all white and green; there


- 40 -





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No snow banks in which to build a house of
snow

No snowmen to stand on front house lawns,
no

Bobsleds and toboggans whizzing down a
hillside,

Nor forts and snowballs, on icicles on
roofside,

No beautiful snowflakes as only He can
create;

There are no frozen lakes to skate on and
fish in

Such as the one I knew in bucksport, when
all of

Us would await anxiously for the freezing
over

So we could be all over that lake, when the
time came,

So that when a breeze came long, we would
unfold

Our jackets, spread our arms out, and let
the

Wind push us along the ice; where is the
snow to

Shovel here, where are the winter carnivals


- 41 -





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the

Sleet and the frost, the footprints in the
snow,

The snow drifts, sugared telephone poles...
Winter?

It is not easy to forget home and to adjust
here;

You have all these peaceful and pretty gifts
Of Nature in
your own backyard and on your roof.

You may have to shovel, struggle through
the streets

And sidewalks slippery with snow and ice,
and

Freeze your insides a little, but what does
this

Matter when you have these winter
treasures?

Look at that sparkling lawn and field turned
from

Green to immaculate white; take some
snow in your

Hands and look at the beauty created
therein; Look

At your kids indulging in our winter


- 42 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




sports....

Do you think they would be happy here with
no

Ponds to skate on, no cold weather to wear
their

Brightly-colored caps and mittens and
earmuffs in,

As well as their boots and scarfs of wool
and silk?

Sentimental aren't I? As I talk about these
things

Now, my mind is active with all of these
vivid images

Which I have experienced in the past, and
which seem

So real now that I feel I am home for
Christmas.

Here the City is alive with shoppers, the
stores

Aglow with trees and colors, lights and so
forth,

But it is bleak with no snow, like a pond
with no fish,

A tree with no leaves: something is missing.

Is it loved ones, home, or maybe it is the
snow?

- 43 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------








The "Frenchman"


He comes now...the great Corneille

Who, greatest of French dramatists,

Supplants even Racine. O Hail!

He walks head low like saddists

Smoking that putrid cigar

And smelling of burnt rubber

That someone e'en very far

Smelling, by chance, must suffer.

These remarks are without base

(It is but my opinion)

For cigar smokers with taste

But I made my decision.


He hungers for Moliere

And does follow in his steps.

Also this Corneille, "le fier"

Demands to each who accepts.

One day, he the great Voiture,

Descartes mathematician,

Or the next, Malherbe, "le dure".

Heroes of the French nation.

He thinks like Chateaubriand,

Speaks like the shy Bossuet;


- 44 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Louis XIV "le Brilliant"

Compared to him is "muet".


At meal, oh! such weird conduct

Is remarked by the junior.

Polyphemus who does suct

Ulysses' friends in terror,

Reminds him upon this scene

And best fits the description.

Back bent, closely does he lean.

Fork upside down...attention!

See him peck and peck his food,

See him peck and peck his meat,

He may drink as fits his mood

Milk or tea dainty and neat.

In the corner of his eye

Every vision comes to him;

When desiring food nearby

Pouting and with finger trim

Indicates, vague, what he wants

Leaving the servant mystified.

While he impatient just grunts

The slave just stands stupefied.

Fault is due to his finger,

Which being long, thin, crooked,


- 45 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Pushes the servant to err

Because his finger's crooked.


In his suite all book-rated

Simple, nice, as fits Poet

Desk, chairs are closely mated

With a desk and cabinet.

To go in without trouble

Is an illusion, my friend!

You will sit there soluble.

Problems will arise. He'll mend

Your every turmoil lie so:

"Don't do this but please do that

Just as I did long ago".

His weird eyes like a bat

Who seeks his prey while blinded.

What he teaches he ignores

And the least are not minded.

This, one who knows him, deplores.


A lesson to be given

If true is worth attention:

Take heed, be not thus taken

By Corneille's eloquation.



- 46 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The "Botanist"


God of the flower kingdom

I salute and praise thy work.

Lord of the plant dominion

Where insects of all sorts lurk,

Hear my voice with gracious ears

So that I may find favor

And protection for my fears.

In your hands I feel safer.

By why act thou thus timid?

You, Master of all figures;

Genius and Brain you keep hid

In a small place amidst curs.


You teach us well High Master,

So well that we understand

That we are dumb much faster

Then before you lent a hand.

Zero is greater than five

With this silly sign before,

Seven equals twenty-five

While six is lower than four?

My feeble brain is so weak

On such weird numbers and signs.


- 47 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Alas! help from friends I seek

But I see ahead hard times.


Shiny little helpless worm

Where shall I first start to tear

Well where is thy head or term?

Well off with this piece with care.

But the Master yet seems sore.

I've cut off his tiny head

Made up of metameres four?

"Pardon me dear Sir", I said.

He forgave me `midst laughter.

I must bow to trees and leaves

And stick glasses with water?

One can't do as he pleases!


Someone told me a strange thing

That made me wonder right off:

Is it true thy genial brain

Gets smoke-filled with every puff

That you take from cigarettes?

Is thy voice affected so

As Time marches on, worse it gets

Until it sounds like a crow?

Someone is spreading rumors


- 48 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




About your smoking in bed,

And one he is who humors...

My feebleminded small head

Beasts swallow the smaller beasts

And may choke in so doing.

Thou, man, cannot do such feats,

And yet such weird sounds you fling

From thy throat, as if a cat

Was hidden there, swallowed whole;

Not being able to get at,

You try to clear your stuffed hole.


A lesson to the wise now:

Beware of numbers and signs;

In front of trees do not bow

For you, nuts, the squirrel finds.


¤ ¤ ¤


A Parody on Burn's "To A Mouse"


Wee, sleekit, cowrin, squashed beastie

O, what a mess is in thy breastie!

An cozie here, beneath the blast,

Thou thought to dwell


- 49 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Till crash! my cruel plough did past

And squished thy little cell.


`Twas on a lofty vase's side

Where China's gayest art had dyed

The Cow is too well known, I fear,

On prospects drear!

So was it when my life began

So it is now I am a man.


Margaret are you also grieving

Over that Goldengrove unleaving?

But och! I backward cast my e'e

And forward, tho' I canna see

Some day the world will end in fire;

From what I've tasted of desire.


My her't leaps up when I behold

A rainbow that ne'er grows old.

Here's an example of a butterfly

That on a hard rock, happy can lie.

Though not for all mashed bugs yet

For Custard, Cake, and Omelet.


Gazing on thee I feel, I know


- 50 -

Green stalks and bright flowers grow.

Music is in the sea and air

Wingéd clouds soar here and there --

`Tis Love, all Love!


¤ ¤ ¤



"Apollo"


Shelly or Byron, dear sir;

Or maybe the great Shakespear?

It is as you do prefer,

Master of Danger and Fear!

I heard you well this evening

While serving my Lords' suppr,

Discussing those trifle things

Which are a bore and bother.

(But in truth I am nothing

Compared to you, Great Sire

Who are really everything)

Of your "great boasts" I tire

But I do admire you

For everything you are worth:

A whole nickel and dime too.

And for singing...a good sport.


- 51 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Men will behave like clowns

In a strange situation;

The lawyer will sometimes frown

On a doctor's o'pration.

To see a sewage worker

Recite lines of poetry

As would the great composer

Is of the purest folly!

Exaggerate a'plenty

And you become a buffoon.

How Dover Beach was empty

When recited by a goon!

But I do admire you

For everything you are worth:

An author and poet too,

That is. . . of a different sort.


Influence of many men

Greater and better than they

(You do cackle like a hen

Pecking grain the live long day)


Great Carouso of this age;

When singing, talent you show:

Whether on TV. or stage


- 52 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




You sing better than a crow!


Sage conversationalist

At the table or the hall.

In all things a moralist. . .

But to me you are a brawl

Able athlete and sportsman

Who, on bright snow, can ski good

(As does the silly penguin)

With two long pieces of wood.


Apollo, poetic God,

Who doth paint images.

(In return, they render laud)

Flowing past spiral ages

Living by immortal men,

While many just past away

Due to perverse minds that can

Kill Beauty by what they say.

Talent is everyone's friend

That doth make good use of him.

God loving freely does lend

What should then return to Him.


But many men seem so blind:


- 53 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Even though they wear a cloak

The source for them's hard to find

When for them, Life is a joke.


¤ ¤ ¤


Elegy: On The Death Of Our President


A Great Man has passed away . . .

And we know not what to say.

But our tears and cries speak clearly

Lamenting whom we loved dearly.


The President has been shot dead;

A lethal bullet through the head;

May God receive his splendid soul

While angels sing, golden bells toll!

Here on earth, mourning bells

Praise the man with hearty swells.

May God implant peace in his breast

And give him eternal rest.


Faithful and true to his promise

He gave to us peace and solace.



- 54 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




He kept peace with nations abroad

And put all his trust in God.


He governed well with Peace as goal

And in return, God claimed his soul.

To us, bewildered, cruel it seems!

(God's will be done, what'ere He deems)

Where is the killer of this man

Let him repent . . . if he can?

Too late; for he is lost to all . . .

Satan's claimed his soul in his fall.


"Ars Poetica"

(Parody on MacLeish's `Ars Poetica'


Teasing, Puzzling, Clear!

A Word as soft as bitter fruits...

An apple, alone

In a wild garden.


Flowing effect of

Rocky hills upon

Green Cypresses

Decked

In Successive


- 55 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Following seeds in a line.


A light becomes Venus's Trade

A Tree, Apollo's Defense.


A gleam in the eye

is an ocular manifestation

of a Rooftop green . . . worms!


Six elephants roaming wild

Mother? Mother! a Cigar . . .

Trampling an ass and three legs

Is Classic Beauty


Mothballs

Cockroaches, school is a pear.


Mute, Dumb, Inspiring.


¤ ¤ ¤


Homage To Forgotten Minds


Whispering winds across the leaves

Will send the clouds across the plains


- 56 -





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To seek the weary in the breeze

And calm their sufferings and their pains.

Immortal drops shall cleanse the soiled

Where ancient men in ages toiled.


No rhyme shall speak the poet's pen

No ray shall cleave the desert rose

Which waits to draw the searching wren

Who wings his way to gay repose.

No earth is known to thinking man

Who passes prints to break the ban.

Nov. 1965


¤ ¤ ¤


Hans Friedbridt


Perfection has spread her wings on

Der Mann:

With clouds of silvery fire specks

Floating about

His glorious hands reach for a

timely goal,

That appears as he desires; the

Son is no match


- 57 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




For he knows his faults are so

easily vanquished

And he can no longer suppress his

innermost thoughts:


"I am Perfect as I see myself before

all others . . ."

Such is human perfection, true

confidence in self.

What can a man accomplish if he think

himself so weak?

Oct. 30, 1965 246 dies


Miracle of Sound



Standard Oil is written there

And stacks speak their whooshing smoke

As all around in rows they stand

And greet us all with fog and smell.

Gray and blue and baby pink

Their tanks upon the hills decor;

Gray cement smiles reddish bricks

As green of grass boast Nature's pride.

The long houses with clanking belts

Convey a can to filling oil


- 58 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The drip drop of the spurting liquid

Matches true to the lift's toot toot

That grinds the rocks to clashing drums

As clinkety clank of clapping cans

Head in unison to piles of squares

That crash and thud every which-a-way.

The whoosh of torches on crackling glass

Hardens liquid to clinking glass.

The milling crowd and stamping feet

Shuffling noise with ringing bells

As workers slam and bam their doors

To thumping thuds of smashing steel.

The eerie whirr of IBM's

Softened to the swish swash of the ladies'
skirts

Join the sniff sniff of the itching nose

Which smells the smoke from the booming
stacks.

The vroom vroom of roaring motors

Testing oil for future use

Will prove their worth in future days

And hail their refinery

With beauteous harmony!


¤ ¤ ¤


- 59 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Decision of the Gods

(Coronation of Justitia)


O fabled hero bold as was Prometheus

Who defied the gods on our sacred Mount

Who stands upon the rock of Olympia

In the Eastern shore of the Holy Lake,

Look upon these three with eyes so soft

That may uplift the King God's wrath:

Rakor trangressed the United Rule of men

And filled his faithful Diacona

While Oger, his sons three, he left

At the mouth of the black Beast's cave;

Helpless they were at Mogro's jaws

As he crushed their lives so coldly;

Goldisa slew her husband in her bed

As he lay asleep, purely innocent.

Bacchus is the fiend who permits

Good men to turn their hearts coal black

But still he goes unpunished?

Alas men are too weak to resist.

Justice has been spurned, good Apollo and

You, zealous poet, has shown her no
concern.

(Zeus the Almighty enters, angered)


- 60 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Hear me, servant, hear my words and

Know that I do respect your weak misled
sister

For to thee I promise true satisfaction

That you may know Zeus is all Just.

Rakor and Oger shall be sent on the death
ship

So Goldisa shall be left in Zoru's wastes

To die there of loneliness and despair.

Let Justice be appeased, your sister twin.

Mercury, fly as swift as is your name

And call the gods in council upon

The Rock in our celestial halls.

I will proclaim a Feast in honour

Of our fair Lady, undying Justice,

That she may reign over all, both god and
men.

Nov. 6, 1965 734 nox


¤ ¤ ¤







- 61 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




To My Only Love

(May be sung to the tune of the

National Anthem)


You are a pearl so pure

Such as ne'er seen before

For your eyes grow so bright

Like the starts of night adored.


Your touch brings forth a warmth

That cannot be denied;

As a spark of true joy

That does fill my heart with pride.


My heart breaks for you dear

I long for your embrace;

To be in your arms

And to feel your sweet grace.


Oh, say you'll love me always

With a heart as true as gold,

And if you'll love me true,

`Till life's end will bells toll.

Dec. 8, 1965 730 nox



- 62 -





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Refutation of Tyrogul


Seeds are drawn to mark the sand

Which will follow the narrowing

Of the sea snail's tiny leap:

No man's a giant to the germ

No man's a victor to its pow'r.

Man yet yields to tinian's grasp

And must succumb and bend his pride.

Man lives through thinking men

And does survive as thy do think.

No Arian shall boast the day

That he in life did pave the way.

If he survive, `tis not by self

For other men had made him live

That he may show dependance strong

For alone, he lives not long.

A pen marks thoughts that live on page

But pen and man must still yet die

While words of truth cruel death defy

And may live on and crown the name

That spoke of angels over valleys

Of corrupt rivers that burn their paths

To self-destruction and perdition

From Time apass to future binian.


- 63 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Tis simple words that mark this page

But truer words knows not the sage.

Dec. 6, 1965 1030 nox


¤ ¤ ¤


To Spain


Oh your men are black, hair

Your women - well they dare

The art of women female

But, it's a pity that they fail

For in comparison to their men

To them, Beauty does not lend.


Oh I was in Barcelona

What a charming pretty town


Mountains of green and green

Light and dark:

What a contrast - I say -

Such a contrast in those hills.


A contrast is a pine so tall

And lights of dark and green


- 64 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




As it lifts its boughs around and up

Besides a paler green so cut

As provides much contrast

Here and there a dot or two along.

Who would see a tree or two

If not for greens a vie'ng through?

A contrast upon that hill

As rows of dagger lips of jade

Reflect a greener hue among

The trees; oh what is of a tree

That makes it so perfect?

A tree has form, such form - yes.

No beauty can man himself create

That matches the beauty Natural

Of a a tree.

Look at that all abloom

White and rose green and brown.

Colours not so bright as red ...

Nor as cold as blue and

Nor as light as yellow;

But fashion with these colours

Four

And make a tree.

Who fashions?

Whoever makes a beauty


- 65 -





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Of brown upright

And green on top

And blooms of lilac

Rose and White.

A creator - A Creator!

O tree I sing a song

Of Praise

When you are old and old so old

(I think you live four hundred years)

A thousand years I'm sure!

But when you are old,

And even if you are young,

A foolish man may chop away

And sever the life that

Courses from your

Roots to Your Crown.

A Kingly Crown to be sure;

When you are old

And man chops away,

Fall with grace as only

A tree can do.

And one day in Treeland,

Watch your axeman fall

Inglorious.

Watch him rot inside the ground


- 66 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




And pay with ashes

The life of another tree.

Tree, I love you so.

Tree, you are life

And Life is you.


¤ ¤ ¤


England


Here they come looking for a place

Upon the green grass around.

A shiny new caravan clean and white

A clean blue car pulling it round.


Find a spot, pitch up a tent

Take the chairs and put them round.

Sit in the shade and read a paper

And relax in a land newly-found.


"England swings like a Pendulum do

Bobbies on bicycles two by two"

As that merry little song goes

And from what I have seen, it shows.


- 67 -





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Poems Written From A Train


The Bird Man


That man lookin' out the window

Has a beak

See him peckin' at the window -

Shy and meek?


`T'ain't his fault, he's made so

I guarantee:

In a way, I think he `a-hansom'

A-one-two-three.


Scottish Fields


Scottish fields o' clover leaf

A-swayin' in the breeze -

Rows and rows a sittin' there

All green and brown one sees.


If I had a minute now

I'd walk among the rows

And takin' Harry in my hand

I'd shout at all them crows


- 68 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




And stop upon the highest leaf

And pee and pee and pee...


The Train


I dunno speed that hath

this train

But horses pullin' could top

its gain.


A poem


Little Jack Horner

Sat in a corner

And pulled out his yang

And...let out a bang.

(or)

Little Jack Horny

Sat in a corny

And pulled out his yang

And ... let out a bang.


This next poem is dedicated to my

friend Brian Holban, who I met

in England about his native Scotland.


- 69 -





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To Scotland


Last night, an experience came

That I'll tell for months to come.

A `sittin in a lovely room

All full of smiling laughing Scots

Lady Song with all her court

To me did give a concert of sort.

What words can tell such fun and glee

As showed those youths so merrily.

A friend named Brian did, to start,

A merry tune `bout Cleo

And as the words dropped from his lips

Methinks I saw Apollo

Who sittin' high on the hallowed hill

Gave to each and all a vibrant thrill.

A Sonnet I should write to those,

The fairer of the Scottish races,

Who sang with golden - golden tones

Songs of yester; and lively faces

Echoed there the strings of Brian's guitar

And echos of the past came in from far

From far. . .from far.


I sat there lonely as a bull


- 70 -





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Stuck away in a fenced up field.

For though the air was music full

The notes upon my brow were cruel

For I am without song

To share and sing along.


And what a sight it was to see

A soul relieve itself as free.

By God, I said, as fingers plucked,

Why cannae that be me?

Too young in mind and proud to shame

(I daren't call it by its name)

I sulked a bit and proved to one

That what's behind has been undone.


But in my mind remain those hours

Filled with joy and merry tunes

And `Ere months pass, years perhaps,

This story I'll tell for hours...

And hours...


The Stately Tree


I've counted sixty steps and more

Along your stately bulk


- 71 -





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I've cried a thousand tears and four

Around your fallen bulk.


I've gathered in my frail two hands

Your lovely greenery

But watched the dewy life of yours

Escape eternity.


I'm helpless and downhearted, friend,

that nought can save thee now.

I'm sad, so sad, that I can't lend

A breath of life for your stilléd brow.


A thousand years you've lived till now

Till something cruel your life did snuff

And earth's companion in his fall

Thunders mightily his last recall.


Fare thee well I'll not come back

to watch your brown turn into black:

To watch your life a-giving green

Turn browner as the days go by.


Farewell my friend,

But one last word:


- 72 -





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"I'd ask above to my dear Lord:

My life for yours I'd gladly lend.


¤ ¤ ¤


Memories of Bavaria


I'm waiting in this queue, I am

The first in one long line;

The train for far away Ostende

Will leave in one hour's time.


And further on I'll go for sure

Toward my destined goal

For friends await me there I'm sure

In Munich fair where bells do toll.


I've missed Bavaria, I really have

And all her charms and loves

But when I've felt her soothing salve

I'll renew once more her loves.


I've tasted love and sorrow too

In this sweet land of peace;

Her people all praise is due

Her prosperity forever increase!





- 73 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The poem on Bavaria is dedicated to all

the beautiful people of Bavaria. I found

much love and beauty there.


¤ ¤ ¤


My Only Thought


Like chilly fingers on my cheeks

Sending shivers up my spine,

The fog rolls in across the land

As I walk alone upon the strand,

I long for cherished friends of mine

And now feel the tears upon my cheeks

That burn a furrow for each thought

That fills my mind with many scenes,

Scenes of joy and happy moments

That are fleeting laments

Of time gone by; and it seems

That my loneliness is my only thought.


¤ ¤ ¤





- 74 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




My Duties


I'm wont to measure in endless ways

The sadness of these ill-spent days;

And as I do my unending hours

The dirt I see piled up as towers.


I mop and sweep then sweep and mop

And when Time lags my hopes do drop

Because I know that the rest of the day

I'll spend it all on the mopping craze.


Take the tray in and take it out

Greet an adult's smile or a baby's pout

But no matter what you see here and there

Always wear a smile; grimace do not dare!


My time seems long; the day so endless

But I'm encouraged by such as this

As when I walk into room seven

Your joy and laughter turns hell to heaven.


¤ ¤ ¤




- 75 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




CHARLES


Why is my throat so dry?

Charles, Charles

Charles

Charles

Charles

I love him.

I love him.

I've got to work hard to love him.

Charles. Charles

I love you,

Charles

Let me tell you how much

I love you.

You're

my friend Charles

Charles

Oh Charles

A kiss from you

Is like the deep blue sea

A smile on your lips

Lights up my inner world.

Charles, your name

Your name:


- 76 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Charles is golden bells

That rings throughout

Charles, I'm calling you.

Your mind's a phantom

Oh to delve inside it

I'd meet the meaning

Oh Charles

Beloved you, Charles,

I love you.


¤ ¤ ¤


Thy plunging be fine.

Oh let me not speak

Such foolish thoughts and words.

My camp is to you and

May you be anew

To rise and crack my

Hardened heart

To seek and spill

My evil crême

And fill your belly

With such unsung

Joys.

And feel thy greatness


- 77 -





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Come tumbling down

Oh great great hope

Woes

Foes

Beat me to thy waiting

drum and

Sleep, your heaven

sleep.


My Grandfather Roberge


I was very young when grandpa died

And cannot recall the memory of him

And when he died I sat and cried

In my room I was sad and grim.

For what reason I cannot recall

But faint pictures of him return

And show a man so big and tall

And always grumpy-looking and taciturn

But he was grandpa and I loved the man

Because, I suppose, he was just grandpa.

On Saturday we used to listen to the band

With all the relatives and grandma

Used to tire so -- I think I took his hand

One day, and went for a long walk


- 78 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




And the paths were filled with leaves

All brown and red and gold. We did talk,

For the first time, about things, the trees

The flagpole with no flag and the cold.

Then he died and I cried to see mom cry

And if I recall, grandpa was not so old

And in his casket, he was a handsome guy.


¤ ¤ ¤


The Roman Forum

(I was completely alone in the Forum)


Still but the sound of birds

Bidding themselves the coming night.

Ruins here, temples there

An awesome sight, such a sight.


The arches and columns

What do they all mean?

I suppose a purpose they

A long long time ago.


What a sight, not a sound

Save the birds here now


- 79 -








--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The traffic far away.

Oh yes, a spring flows near by.


On a stone slab I write

And gaze around at ruins

Steps long gone, arches decayed

A palace here a temple there.


This is the Roman Forum

Which I see in my own way.

Alone on a slab of stone.

Midst ruins and departing birds.


I would not dare as night approach

To stay within this Roman tomb.


Double


Oh, the horror is that we have two sides

For I espied quite clearly so last night

And as I looked in my bathroom mirror

If I looked well, I could see a better

Profile on one side than the other.

And this I set down on paper to know.



- 80 -





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"Immortal Shall Ye Be!"


Sweeter words have never thus flowed

From the breath of any man;

And I fancy Dante clad in white

Speaking to the aged Milton:


"Brother seest thou yon mortal

Speaking to those around

Who render ear, amazed and mute?

He is British but no matter,

For his rhymes would touch the ear

Of the Muse who sits on high."

(Milton answers)

"What sayest thou of royal blood

Which flows through great men's veins?

Stern Dante be not proud

For you were on earth despised

Until of late; you know too well,

Your people praise you but now!

This man is young and foolish

To waste his life in such a state.

His voice is golden as the harp

That strings across brave Apollo's arm:

His words are silver tones


- 81 -





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That shall live through ages long.

Mark ye the man who one day

Shall grace our celestial courts

With graceful sounds as I hear now:

"Swift simple flesh of children's feet..."

Nov. 4, 1965


Richelieu

















Salut gloire de la jeune France

Doué de ce pouvoir immense

Qui a vaincu ses ennemis

D'une âme et ambition unis.


Corrupted soul of Mother Church

Will live in our searching minds.

Ambition and Servitude never linked

The powers of a dual master

Who has served to command.

Paradox, will you explain

Your thoughts to modern man?

Weak in body, but twined with

A mastering mind that stood high

So steadfast with ambitious spirit

France did once plead then forsake.


- 82 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




You lost your sanctity in peer's eyes

While you rose in pow'r and glory

And fought your country's name justly.

Shall we deny your honor?

Shall we side with Church?

Religion fades while mind oe'rlives,

To actified thoughts to deeming victory.

You may be damned but will live yet

To be the fruit of rising souls.

Man will live if he be earnest

And will vanquish if he hold power;

His will flourish if he be steadfast.

My Christian soul does loathe your acts

But reigning mind the morrowdoubts.

Let he who rejects your hallowed name

Ner'theless flex his knees to glory

And accept a man worthier than he.

Dec. 18, 1965






- 83 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




















Ode To The Sea


Upon the sea doth shine the moon;

With splendor she has decked her waves

That boast a flimsy pride to

Shores that stretch vast boundaries;

Upon the cliffs she dashes waters

Which drown the unwary in their homes

For when dams burst, no man is safe.

The Sea is mistress, fearful to the men,

Yet gods do bow to Neptune's Power

And when the horn of Triton sounds its knell

Let mariners return their crafts to home
ports

Where cling the safe-bound windblown
vessels.

The vast Empire one day is gentle

As the sweet music that leaves

The charméd God's golden-birded lyre

As he sits upon the rock up high

Charming Psyche and her royal courts.

Yet the next, the calm is shattered deep

Out of which menacing swells do curl

Their foaméd crests against frail ships


- 84 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




and toss the toys from wave to wave

Till decided, she may claim or she may free:

From her bosom, fair Venus she engen-
dered;

To the gods, she never did forsake in their
need

As when swift Thetis sped across her waters

To the smith God, to Vulcan's Eastern shore,

She gave wings, for brave Achille's sake

And forsook no goodly god his will.

No god has ruled the great Neptune's ally

Through the ages she has steered her

Restlessness into Gaia's massive outpost










- 85





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




As weak she is made way to a greater power

That knows no fear, but angry scorn.

Ages past, the waters swelled threefold one

With gentle gods and fair-haired mermaids

Who claimed her depths and swam her
gulfs.

Gods have left the sea to men too greedy

Who dare to claim a restless power for their
own.

No Spanish nor English shall oer'take

The royal trident for his wishes and his
glory;

Greater ships may sail across and into

But the time will come no matter

When Neptune's queen will show her might,

Through ages long as in the past, the sea

Will dominate all mortal men with

Her beauty and her scorn, she may

Charm or she may frighten whosoever

Dares to touch her strength or to gaze upon
her power.

Nov. 8, 1965


- 86 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




A B C In The Countries


Italy and France and German towns,

Swedish mills and Hungary west

And Greek villas on Olympian slopes,

Russian towers and Canadian leaves,

American scholars and Chinese elms,

Norwegian pines and Finland cold,

Syrian hues and Irish clover dales,

Japanese silks, Hebrew papers,

French wines and cheese meats,

Iceland, Greenland, Holland,

Batavia, Ukrania, Newfoundland

New England

Switzerland, Somaliland, Sumatra,

Africa, Afghanistan, Asia, Antarctica;

American animals are anally-inclined:

German girls give gory games:

Swedish sex symbols strive so simply:

French females for Finnish fropes:

Italian Iagos illicitate Ionians:

Dutch doll dorinicate dumdrops:

Morrocan mobs mollify mophretenes:

Torian tillies tintillate terrible tonnities:

Prudish pygmies pulpitate Pomeranians


- 87 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Coraconolliphionians clopeteliteroniate:

Ermiosopholitticacalisofiatics eat...

Hermaphrolopomeragrarorgangiocucumbs:

Assonance alliteration and assinine.

Mar. 14, 1970


¤ ¤ ¤


To The Said Ray Laliberté

By Brian Holban

























Ray Ray my American friend

I wish somethings would never end

To walk the streets of Edinburgh with you

Is an experience I never knew.

I'm sorry I dragged you round those streets

And I'm sorry if it gave you two sore feet..

And sitting beside me is a can of lilt

But I really wanted a kilt.


Ray Ray my handsome friend

I'm glad this journey's near the end

Because you've never spoke for long

And I feel I've done something wrong.


- 88 -

(Brian Holban was a friend that I met while
on a trip to
England. He is a Scot who took me to
Scotland on a trip
for three days and there I met his mother,
sister, and his
brother-in-law and his friend Shadow [a
cute black
`sheepish dog']. Brian played the guitar
and loved
American Oldies like: "Hats Off To Larry"
and "Walking In
The Rain", etc.)






-----------------------------------------------------------------------------






Brian Holban 1978





- 89 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




San Francisco


When I can wave the fog away

And look upon your Beauty,

There seems to be something lacking

As if, then, you're all a'moody.

When comes the fog again next day

You wrap yourself in cold anew

And fascinate the visitor's eye

Like a morning flower all a'dew.

Charming white you stand so proud

Near the beautiful Bay, your home,

And while the horns are sounding loud

To guide the ships to your sweet home

The beauty of your perfect shape

Will lull the sailors to your Gate.


¤ ¤ ¤


Sounds


Speaking reddities of warming feels

Have moved so there....speaking

Speaking wars of laughing wood

I know not how to communicate.


- 90 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Playing breaths of grasping whiskers

A'playing round my foot moves

And ringing neck chains on my dog

Reveal the joy and love of Loki!


Dying flames, waning reddities

Give not the writing light

So that....I must...end this song

And put o. . war. . m . th to chas . . . . e

Cold

Mar. 10, 1970


¤ ¤ ¤


Children


See the little kids playing,

Singing and dancing on street corners

Little ones following their leaders

Not knowing a thing about Vietnam-Nam:


See their little chins dripping

With the fresh drops of March rain,

Cheeks all rosy and filled with fun,

Their lungs refreshed by cleaner air.



- 91 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




See them dueling with wood swords

And chasing each other on hills

And when you see them stare

At oiled ducks on the Examiner - WEEP!


Hear them swear their father's tongue

And wonder at their boastful words:

Little recorders of elders' oaths

That set their minds thinking prematurely.


Children, lovely little dolls playing

With honest emotion in their eyes:

Lament their slim chances ahead

Which happens in a desolate world.


Children, children - beautiful children

Which if you could you would cleanse

For good of dirt and smog and oil

And keep them clean in silver springs.


¤ ¤ ¤



Toilet Paper



When I've learned to use you well,

Then I'll begin to treat you well.


- 92 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Zaputi XX2


The star of Zubulu will rise

Amid a roar of zultaneous cries

From which the Crockipi has told

A tale of courage of heroes bold.


A fair-haired boy, his name was Ix

Who roamed the plains in the land of Gix

He shot an arrow in Pupu's eye

When stars above fell from the sky.


"Oh! Ah!", he cried, "alas,

What did I do to this lovely lass?".

Poor Pupu pooped and pricked

And suddenly the bucket kicked.


A bloody gash in her sullen eye

Made the maiden utter this cry:

"How it smarts, you stupid ape!",

As blood did pour from the open gape.


She dropped to the ground with a thud

In three feet of her crimson blood.

Another cry she then screamed out

"I'm drowning! Get me out of this rut"





- 93 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Her hero fair, dove statim in,

A little tipsy from some gin.

"Gurgle, gurgle!", he went down

And in a second he had drowned


And so the end is fatally told

About our hero so very bold;

But in the end, all heroes survive

The hoax of Gigigaga, that mad Kive.


¤ ¤ ¤


My Dog Loki


A little being came into my world

All grey, black and white whiskers,

All playing and breathing joy

A helpless little being he.


His hair is curl, his walk is dainty,

His paws all white, his whiskers too

That silly face --- who said silly?

That funny face --- who said funny?


I shall I describe helplessness

But to hold into my strong hands





- 94 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




This little fellow that is mine

Is greater that, than a pretty gem.


Chewing, chewing, he barks now

And seeing him, curled in curls

Upon the snow-white rug,

He sleeps, a little heaving ball.


I hold him in my arms and think

He can't be dumb this little guy

For his eyes are loud with thoughts,

And that little tail of his wiggles so.


I love this little friend of mine

And give my all to keep him alive

For I can truly help his helplessness

By putting aside my selfishness.

(This poem was written in memory of

my Miniature Schnauzer, Loki 3-10-70)


¤ ¤ ¤



Love


I cannot define this word

But to calm my sorrow fed



- 95 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




And look upon a fair soul

Which can give all itself to me.

If it retracts and halts its move

Then morrow comes t'erase the blaze.


¤ ¤ ¤


A Land Like This


Oh, I'll tell you about this land:

It's big, it's a great big land;

I'll tell you all you want about

This Land...

There are trees, like eucalyptus

(Greek I think)

And rocks, flowers, snakes, insects,

Oh the flowers are so beautiful!

And there are beaches and the coasts

And desert

And farms

And Mulga

And a lot of sheep

And the, (what's it called?) Gibber Plain,

And paddocks and tips and Bush....

I've learned some words.


- 96 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Oh let me tell you about this land:

There are winters,

Oh, the snow's up there in the hills;

And the summer's hot

And the Fall...well eucalyptus is green.

And the rocks are the same

And the flowers, so different, are

Beautiful!

And there's a strange race,

Not Negroid, they say,

And the Whites

Friendly, nice, polite, and proper;

They own this island!

They have their tea, their pubs and
manners:

I've learned some customs.


Hey, let me describe this land:

It doesn't have,

Towering peaks,

Snow fields and sugared valleys

And mighty rivers

That carve into ground a mile;

No towering Redwoods, nor Sequoia

And no Crater

And no cats in the forests


- 97 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




No bears;

It has kangaroos, koala, (teddy bear)

And a little mouse called Marsupilia,

And emus, lyrebirds and bell birds,

And others...

I've learned about some animals I reckon.


Well, I've talked about a land like this.

It's big, it's a great big land;

I've told you a little about

This land...

The red gum,

A spider called the funnel-web,

And banksia (?),

Cave Beach,

Deserts,

The Darwin's farm,

And Mulga in the Territory,

And Holstein,

And the Gibber

And strange sounds and words

And the Australians.

(This poem was written on Sept. 18, 1972

and is dedicated to the Aussies)





- 98 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Michael




















While I sit and study here

My ears are listening for that ROAR:

My V.W. struggling to reach here

And bring my Michael to my door.


¤ ¤ ¤








- 99 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------














Religion


When the Men of Sodom Sinned...


In Genesis, the Lord had said::

"Sons-in-law, sons, daughters, or

Anyone you have in the city, take

Them out of this place; for we are

About to destroy this place, because

The outcry against them has become so

Great before the Lord that He sent us

To destroy it".


Thrice and again more, Lot had asked

The Lord for justice saying: "What if


- 100 -

Ten (just men) be found there?".

Jehovah answered: "I will not destroy

It for the sake of ten". None of the

Sodomites proved worthy and Lot

Could not save them.


A literal interpretation, should we

Take?

In the year 1967, year of Our Lord,

If a city is totally destroyed, its

Inhabitants included, have they all

Sinned for such an end?

What if they did not all?

Might there not be maybe ten just men?


The Lord God is nevertheless just,

Surely there must be reason for the

Deaths of so many.

Shall we say to our questioning mind:

"Stay! Hold your disbelief less...

You be struck dead?"

Have we no right to question?

Or again shall we ask:

"Would you explain Lord thy actions?"

Would we be struck dumb for daring to


- 101 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Question His actions?


Why did 6 million Jews and more die?

Because their race was that of Jews?

Did he will this?

Does not the Bible say, "What he

Giveth he

Taketh?"


What is the fault of the newborn who

Shall never smell the early morning

Scent of dewed grass and leaves, or

Shall never look upon the color of

The blood red rose?


Pity, oh pity and sorrow for the

Child.

"What he giveth, he taketh..."

What awaits the questioning men?

A change into a pillar of salt.

Who shall lick the salt of her

Who dared to doubt the Spoken Word?

Who shall dare to weep for her

And start to doubt His Spoken Word?

See her stand upon the hill

Where ages will crumble lifeless form





- 102-





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




To match the rocks upon the hill

Till dust will float upon the clouds

Till no one was that thought to be

And did forget his life was owned?


¤ ¤ ¤


Sonnet to: Mary Our Loving Mother


Beneath His Cross, a pure and lonely

heart;

The Savior dead - a piercing thorn,

a dart;

A mother's grief, yet still love does

not part

From that pure heart, God's greatest

work of art.


God's perfect handmaid, tenderness

and bliss

Her Son's betrayal by that sinful

kiss;

And yet her love, without a single

miss,

Shines through our hearts, in Life's

deep sad abyss.





- 103 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




O Queen of Love, your pure heart like

a shrine

For seekers of His Love, thy Son

Divine.

On bended knee, my plea to thee,

Benign:

To mold my heart into a shrine like

thine;

So in eternal sleep, host to my

soul,

I may rejoice on seeing Life's sweet

Goal.








- 104 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------














Poems to the Ladies


Rosie


When I hear your name "Rosie"

I think of "Sweet Rosie O'Grady"

And I am nervous to see

Work and all work there is:

But when, in work, your eyes meet mine

Sweet Rosie, you always flash a smile so
fine.


Annie


Black is beautiful, black is great

And, Annie Baby, I agree on you.


- 105 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------













I've only seen you from afar

But, of late, I've known a sweet mother.


Nory


How can I describe the sweetness of Nory

Except to holler to the world "Sweet Nory!"


Mary


Mary is prim and proper and wears

Ultra-minis:

No matter what you say about Mary,

She sure can wear those minis.

(The four poems above are dedicated to

hospital staff who work so dedicatedly)


¤ ¤ ¤


Barbara


Golden sands around your face

An Aurora of shining light


- 106 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Sets mortal eyes now to gaze

Upon mortal Venus's fair sight.


I gaze upon the azure blue

That twins below your perfect brow

On which the softest rose's dew

Is put to shame compared to you.


¤ ¤ ¤


Arachne's Handmaiden


Like Arachne who wove so skillfully

That Athena herself blushed anger:

I take your art done so beautifully

Which to me you do confer,

That I may wear around my neck

Your woven skies and sweet perfumes;

Your skill upon the scarf does reflect

Your freshness of youth which consumes

Each single thread of arduous work

And shows your golden lengths of hair

Set upon the azure cloth -- I will not shirk

From wearing your scarf, O Lady Fair,

And will remember your sweet kindness

With gratitude and thanks, kind votaress.





- 107 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




(The sonnet to "Arachne's Handmaiden"

was composed and dedicated to Sheila who

knitted me a warm scarf made up of all the

colors of the rainbow.)


¤ ¤ ¤


Carol


"A la plus belle fleur de ce monde:

Que mon coeur a ton souvenir fonde!"


Who is it that made such a stir

And touched so many hearts at once?

Before she came, there was sun and moon,

There were the stars in the skies,

There were the green and blue of nature,

The sea and its waters, the trees, their
leaves,

There were the words "beautiful" and
"pretty",

There was the flicker of cottage lights

on hills,

The lights of the City, its rising hills

(The hills of Nature and those of men)


- 108 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The smiles, frowns, and laughs of people;

These things and more, we hardly knew
existed!


Who is it that made such a noise

And set us thinking all at once?

About the green and red of leaves,

The blue and silver of skies and seas,

The majesty of snow-crested mounts

The melody of sound in the word

"bea-U-tiful",

The gift of life God has given,

The gem that is the moon, the warmth

and the sun,

The beauty of the jeweled City by the Bay,

The joy and happiness of being alive?

Again, who is it that made such a noise?

These things and more we hardly knew
existed.


Who is it that came from afar

And set us all in such a turmoil?

Because we had seen daily what she had
not;

We had gazed above and remained
unmoved





- 109 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




We had seen and smelled the dreary fog

And felt its cold fingers upon our cheeks;

Had watched a sail glide pass the moon

Upon a sea so calm and so serene;

Had watched that same sea another day

Shattering itself upon jagged cliffs and
golden sands;

And yet we held our eyes and ears shut --

These things and more we hardly knew
existed.


It was a girl so young at heart

(Who saddened us all when she did part)\

It was the breeze of night and light of day

Who made us all so happy and so gay;

It was the cool of the deep blue sea

And the scent of a bright green tree;

It was the smile of one who is so glad

To share with her friends all that she had;

It was the sweetest girl I have ever met

Who has made us all so very happy to
have let

Roger, David, George, and Darryl

And I know and love the sweet sound

that is Carol

¤ ¤ ¤



- 110 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Annette A.


I've known a girl with an Italian name

Who comes from the city of Chicago;

She has very unusual hair and consequently

It is very beautiful hair.

She eats mostly vegetables and shys from
meat

Because she is what people call: "a

vegetarian".

Annee or Ann are parts of Annette

Isn't her name a fair and beautiful one?

I've known this girl for a year or two

And will get to know her more and more:

She cares much for people and does much

To help them and do them little favors.

She has many dishes in her repertoire
that...

(Well I certainly feel that they are anyway)

Are different . . . just different from the rest.

Bean cake is one . . . or was it bean pie?

I ate it and marvelled at beans in a crust

But ate it I did and loved it too;


- 111 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Other dishes have been served with flavors

Unusual . . . too salty, or not enough, or

Different from what I'm used to, I'll say:


I shopped with her once and looked at
clothes

That she wished to buy for good

employment

And I was impressed by her taste in them

And saw her femininity emerge in style;

I've been to plays with sweet Annette

And enjoyed them more with her who shared

The enjoyment of the evening, the culture

Of the time: she teaches too, conscientious,

But not so daring and strict I feel

For I've heard her stories and felt her pain

At being abused by tough children she
teaches.

Her fault is her nature which is too kind

And a prey to uncaring and unruly

students.

She must be strict, a strict disciplinarian.


I've gone on trips, some short, some longer

I've seen the coast, forests and plains:





- 112 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I've smelled the sea and felt the heat,
together,

I've tasted wine and shared some meals,

and . . .

Well suffice it now to say that

whate'er

With Annette, it has been always fun

and

Interesting and

Unforgettable.


¤ ¤ ¤


Valerie or a Real Live

English Girl Amongst Us


Valerie has come and will soon leave

And some hearts may well bereave

For she stands out very conspicuously

Her shape, her hair, her accent

interestingly

Blended in a woman from a distant land.


Fair-haired and a sufficiently-bosomed lass

Who commands the stares of all those who
pass,



- 113 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Are you thinking of Merry England now and

Mexico or other countries, distant jobs

And travel and all things in life . . .

Some you don't understand?


She likes to eat and smoke and think

And, I think, revel, travel and drink;

All things social she seems to enjoy

And joins in merrily with glee and joy

And yet, she does not speak so much.


A thinking girl with a lot on her mind

Who will listen more than her speech can
find

To sing her whims to the wind now,

This lovely creature Nature did endow

And gave us time to meet and to enjoy.


¤ ¤ ¤


Angela


The colors of bright flowers red and yellow

The scent of crisp blossoms sweet and
mellow



- 114 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Is the hue on the cheeks of the babe

And the smell of the breath of th'innocent
babe.


So you are likened to the bloom

Of Nature's colored gems,

Adding beauty and grace upon your
innocent face.


¤ ¤ ¤


Poems on Melancholy


I don't see any reason for you

But hope that one day hope be your due.


I'm so tired this night

And waning is the light

In my mind - I won't fight

Sleep! Put me to bed -

I won't fight


People Bother Me


Annoying people bother me

Till I perceive that I'm the crowd.





- 115 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Alone


I shall not despair when I'm alone

For if I did, then I would truly be

Alone.


My Box


It is twenty-two by sixteen

Add or subtract a few;

Yes, it has four walls too

A ceiling and a floor to boot,

Naturally.

And I spend twelve hours here

A day . . . give or take a few

Someone fixed this room just for me

Naturally.

What else has top and bottom,

Four walls too?

A box, a vault, a tomb.

Take your pick, it all comes back to three:

A box, a vault, a tomb.

Must I go to England for a house

And garden too?

God bless the garden and gardener too.


- 116 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I rush through the streets

Pass cars rushing in the street

Or I drive along the crowded street

With people rushing along the streets

When will I stop?

Probably never.


I remember a sanctuary filled with trees

A'standing by a flowing stream.

It's clear in my mind

Like the flowing stream.

But, God, where are the sanctuaries here?

A place to allay my anxiety and fear?


Muni


When I am one of your passengers

I meditate upon the scenes you give.

I rest and love the people here and there.

Maybe one day, I can be a permanent

passenger.





- 117 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------










Miscellaneous


Little man, you are a friend

You love such great things in so small,

And I find you quite the man:

In your outlook you do stand tall

And I perceive much imitable

In your mind - you are remarkable.


¤ ¤ ¤


He was bought in a bar

And he worked there thereon:

Woman took him for he was bought

And he was used - he was the Stud.


- 118 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I hear his voice in the back

And picture both of them

And I come back and

Feel how good it feels

To feel it getting bigger

And bigger and lovely.

See it staring at my ass

To want it to come into my ass

And feel me out and in

To fill me in and out and in;

Feel your manhood in my belly,

Want that pulsation high inside.


¤ ¤ ¤


See him standing there so tall

See him swinging himself on the wall?

Want that spear to come around

Want the hole, the flesh be found?


¤ ¤ ¤


My Star Spangled Banner


Your touch brings forth a warmth

That cannot be denied:


- 119 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




As a spark of true joy

That does fill my heart with pride.


My heart breaks for you dear

I long for your embrace;

To be in your arms

And to feel your sweet grace.


Oh say you'll love me always

With a heart as true as gold,

And if you'll love me true,

`Till life's end will bells toll.

(Written on Dec. 8, 1965)





- 120 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




La Mer














La mer qui passe et chante

Sur la plage tout brillant du soleil;

Le son de ses vagues qui parle

Leurs soleils aveuglent et charment;

Sa brume qui nous enlève et

Nous entoure du mystérieux;

Le son des goelands qui attendent

Leur proie que leur donne les flots;

Ces oiseaux magnifiques au bec féroce,

Blanc sale; pillard superbe et laide,

Qui crient et expriment leur impatience;

Son cimetière de corps ravagés

Par les oiseaux de proie qui s'envolent

Au son des pas d'un solitaire,

Les vagues qui se déferlent et se fracassent

Là-bas sur les rochers méprisants

Tout rongés et troués par sa passion

Son sable de simples couleurs,

Foncé là par l'eau, et dure, tout proche;

Tout d'elle me charme et encore...

Le son toujours me berçe comme hier

Quand j'étais jeune, dans les bras sures

De ma maman, sure et si chère.


- 121 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Children Who Hate


Look at their teeming eyes;

Their aggressive silent lips

And learn to fear their faces.


Hear their grumbles of disgust;

their words of waste and filth

And learn to hear well their words.


Know and understand their little minds;

Seek their answers in a way

that only they can know and show.


These are children that will soon

Retrace your steps on grounded force;

these are the little masters who one day

Will clean your desk and start anew

but their book will not be yours,

Nor your masters' ---- they'll be theirs.

For their whole lives have been a study

And your own life, has had no worth.


Such is life as time progresses

That theirs go forward and yours regresses.


- 122 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Where are Our Friends Going?


I saw a seal die, I cried

I watched a yellow butterfly

And saw a net take him away.

I saw a woodpecker, red and blue

Shot down today upon the ground

I saw a fire blacken what was green

In a lofty forest close, close by

I saw a man light a fire

That destroyed these great big trees

I saw many fishes in the sea

That had the colors of the rainbow

I cried and shouted at the sea

To wish her home the safest be

I watched an eagle and a hawk

One day in a year, once in a month

I looked and searched for a buffalo

Far and wide to see its strangeness

But naught I found, not anywhere,

Til in a zoo today I saw a buffalo:

I saw a species so rare and great and

Prayed for the life of this one buffalo.

(This poem written in 1976 is dedicated to
the

millions of harp seals killed annually.)


- 123 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Where Is It Gone...?


All the love is gone

Drained

Like the sap out of a plant.

Completely drained; where is it gone?

Like a tree with no life,

lifting its boughs to heaven above

But no sustenance below to give it strength

This beautiful tree has struggled so

But the sap is gone from its branches now:

Where is it gone...the love, the sap?


My mother's gone, you know, she left one
day

And things have never been the same I'll
say

I find it hard even now, almost a year gone
by

To bend myself down on bended knee and
pray:

Oh mother dear, where have you gone?

My sister dear has also gone.

A light, I think, has gone out somewhere

Like the sun hidden forever and not giving
sustenance.


- 124 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I am that tree struggling so, day after day,

Seeking sustenance, from below and above

But there's naught to find here or far away

This sustenance, this sap, this longed-for
love.


Who'll shed a tear for this poor tree

Or at least give it water, a little sustenance?

A lake will not even quench its thirst, you
see

Because the light, the sun, has gone no
chance


And so this stately tree has lived its life

And sought to give the creator his due

But now perhaps the time is ripe

For it to give itself to eternity.


I am that tree and have so decided

That perhaps the time is near at hand

To stop the living, to stop the struggle

And leave this poor forsaken land.


I've travelled far and wide you see

And done what many a man did dee


- 125 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I've walked alone in Roman Forum

And swam all naked in Herrenchiemsee:

I travelled once on the Orient Express

From my beautiful Paris to exotic Istanbul

And somewhere in hostile Bulgaria, I
confess

I was almost stranded in a train car
abandoned

When I stopped at the last car to take a
photo

And heard the shouts of fellow passengers:

"Come on, come on, the train's leaving!"

"Ok, so what?", I said to them until I saw

That the car had been uncoupled and ran

I did to the safety of my companions' car

Just as the train pulled off and left

That lone old car, in the land of the Bulgars.


What guardian angel watched over me that
day

I know not his name, or her if she be she,

But have often thought of the consequences

Of explaining myself to Bulgarian authorities

Who would have questioned me on that
lone old car

On the way to exotic Istanbul.




- 126 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I travelled far, from that young strong tree

To this old and dying one I see

That gasps for light and sustenance

That can't be found, no lake no sea.

I stand here now, old and withering

I cannot move, as I once did

From Paris to exotic Istanbul

Nor can I swim so happily in Ludwig's see

With loves of old as Willie See.

I dared him to come with me and jump we
did

In the waters of Bavaria's Chiemsee.


I walked this earth, not like a tree, but
young and free

And loved all men and wished them me.

I lived a full and wondrous life

I saw the wonders of the earth you see.


I'm an old tree now, rooted to the spot

And have been these years gone by

And can't abide this chainéd lot

And wish I could take wings and fly.


I'm an old tree and have to understand

that the time has come to rest my boughs



- 127 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




For I'm chained here now, on this bare land

And it's time to rest my weary boughs.


I'm not finished yet, not my writing

For I've much to tell and don't give a damn

Whether anyone will even read

Or wonder at the beauty of a pram

When a twelve year old learns it once

And knows that it's just a baby carriage.


I'm an old tree and am wandering now

In mind and spirit, but in body no

As I think of things that are of import

And think of the beauty of a Grecian port.

Such as the lovely jewel "Aegean'ed Miko"

I'll give it that name, it's mine to say,

That I once saw from Athens, Greece

On a ship to the Aegean Sea.

A jewel with whitewashed homes

Of sturdy Greeks, that handsome race,

With the civilization of an ancient race

Etched strongly on their handsome face

And fishermen at port's vessels there

With hairy chests and pipes and smoke

And handsome men so full of life


- 128 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I'm fortunate to say, I've seen the strife

Of a noble people still clinging there

To their fondest dreams, their fondest fare

Freedom to live and love and die

Like this old tree now, who's done and now

`Tis time to raise his agéd bough

And bid this world a fond adieu.


I've still time to write, for I feel sap

Still running through my clogging veins

that buys the time I need right now

To say what's here and what's on my mind.


Where is it Gone...?

Where is the love I've longed to feel

Or have I felt it all these long gone years

The love of travel and people who have
shared

Their long lost loves and mysteries

But I have myself those longings too

to feel the love, some love, any love.

I know you can't feel love unless you've
loved

And I think I know, I feel I've loved.



-129 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




My mother's gone, she left you see

And I did not even have a chance with her.

She never knew the real real me

And I most likely knew not her.

I think I tried to understand

That she gave me life and dignity

But she didn't know where I did stand

For is she'd have, I'd have serenity.


I've still a lot to say, you see

And my pen won't be stilled so easily

Because it's now or never, friend,

So listen as I tell you all.


I've lived a life like a tall tree

Whose sapling youth does escape me

For every day's a struggle,

From the moment from mother's womb

It gasps for air and sustenance,

Love, is that the sustenance?

But I wander much you see

And must task myself right now.

I've lived a life like a tall tree

Whose life takes from soil and light above

The joy and beauty of sustenance...


- 130 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Yes, that's the sustenance, not love,

But Life.

I'll not ask for anything more

Because I've lived a rich full life.

They say a tree lives a thousand years

But this old tree has a living virus

Living in its roots, branches and boughs,

And is given so much, a day, a year,

When others fail, fie year after year.


I prayed near the shores of my lovely
harbor

And shared the beauty of tranquility:

I studied the Greeks and Romans too

And lived up to my French ancestry.

I think I saw the beauty of the Lord

On days when he cast forth on clouds

His visage of earth's creations.

I recited Hail Marys dutifully

And heard the news of Kennedy

All this I've done, and much more too

And longed to tell a story of two.

Are you still there, my faithful friend,

For if you're gone, then what's the use?

You see, I've still a tale or two to tell

And will do so come heaven or hell!


- 131 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I was in Jakarta, once, you know,

Because I'd lost all earthly things

That made of me some person there

When a passport is your liberty.

I walked the streets of that big city

And the monsoon came and well...

The story ends with water to my hips

And tears were flowing from eyes to my lips.

Do you want to hear the story, friend,

Perhaps I'll tell you some day, friend.


I once met a lady named Nicole from Paris

Who took me on a strange journey

Where I saw giant bats hanging from tall
trees

And crimson orchids on ornate temples

For this, you see was in Indonesia

I'll tell you no lies, and have not yet.

The monsoon rains nearly killed me then

And broke my spirit and will to go on

But Nicole came and showed me the way

And lo and behold, `twas another day!





- 132 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Am München


It was a busy time, I was 33

In July of `75, I was doing this:

Lunch with Günther, then later on

English classes with Hans;

Then at night, I was with Willi

This all, on the 19th of Juli.


On the 23 of July 1975, I went with Willi

to Herrimchiemsee, and we swam in the
lake

Nude, and kissed under the water

With Versailles on the shore looking down.


On the 25th, the class with Rebecca
cancelled,

And replaced with a class with Hans at 7:30;

I had to get a birthday card for Paul

And meanwhile my love Willi was in Italy.


Now on the 28th, my diary reads: "Willi is
back"

And a call for Paul from Eddy in Berlin to
wish him well.

On the following month, August kept me
busy as


- 133 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The First saw me preparing lessons, visiting
Walter

At Neuplacy (?) while evening was the

Opera

Salome at the Munich Opera, then on the
2nd

A lesson with Herr Lüdermann at Schyrch
Stra.


The evening was haircuts with Willi (Did he
cut?)

And then I applied on the 3rd of August, I
applied

For work at Costaria...meanwhile, I was
teaching

Herr Goeß, Lüdermann, und Eikon.


I went for my arbeitshamp (permit to work)
on Aug. 8

And called Günther after mailing some
letters;

On the 9th, busy teaching Eikon, Goeß, und
Lüdermann

While on the next day, I continued teaching
English,

With new students: Herr Yager and Yanson


- 134 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Then on September, I eked out a living
teaching

Until I left, as my diary indicates,
somewhere around

September 6 or 7th...Willi was my burning
desire.


Then in October, I met Lamarr...


¤ ¤ ¤


To Narcissus


I loathe to think myself a man

Yet fear to think myself a god

As did the youthful Narcissus

Whom Pride did hail with words of laud.

He looked upon the silv'ry lake

And saw a sight extremely fair

That did him grace and honor too,

With deep blue eyes and golden hair.

He looked upon the shining waters

And loved the smile that graced his face

Til Ages passed and men had died

The lad thus stood in beauteous grace


- 135 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




For he had thought himself a god

Upon this earth where men had trod.


¤ ¤ ¤


The Bomb


Fires shall rage upon this spot

Where stretches forth this sea:

This perfect calm shall soon be stilled

By a devil's fiery key.


The key is sacred to us all

Until our minds do destroy

Our Virtue and our Holy Love

Which possessed us when a boy.


The key of greed is fiery red

And cuts down deep into our hearts;

It strikes us then a mortal blow

Which is the pain of a thousand darts.


Soft sweet fields of lillies

Shall no longer fair be seen





- 136 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Poets of night shall sweetly praise

Azriel's triumph over man:

And when the last forgotten soul

Shall lift his eyes toward the skies

No response will answer his cries...

None but the bells from afar that toll

Nov. 3, 1965


¤ ¤ ¤


The T.V. Repairman


What our set is gone again

It's broken and doesn't work?!

I'd bet money on a pin

that he came a certain jerk.

What he touches falls apart

And usually is broken.

Be it a machine or cart

Wreckage remains as token.

Weird inventions are his best

And suit all madmen's taste,

What he finds in complete mess

He quickly mends with some paste.





- 137 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Silence


Golden tones of melodious space

Sings the birds of tranquility

For they do sing in moods

That best befits the hush of

Silence:

Soft, sweet, stilléd soon,

Into the sky appears yon moon;

Lamenting clouds lurking about

Celestialities, north to south;

Never a sound see'st above

`Cept on earth flies the ardent dove

Ending all sorrow with his love;

`Tis this love which imparts

To two hearts

A thousand words of silence

Silence....silence....silence.


¤ ¤ ¤





- 138 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




I Hope It Rains...


I hope it rains and

I hope it pours like crazy

So when I'm walking in the rain

(and crying in the rain)

No one can see my tears.


I Remember


I remember the willows bending low

Upon that clear and clean flowing stream

And my arms embracing one of these

And actually feeling a beating heart.

I was stoned, perhaps just marvelling

At the beauty of this living tree.

Are they beating here in the City

Or are they corpses waiting for the end?


Oh God, where is one sanctuary

Where I may go to rest and think?

Just one sanctuary or just one tree

Where I may sit, rest and think?





- 139 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Do You Wanna Make Love?


When I went out, I looked for someone

To love and I wanted love.

I would just as soon to to a spot

And ask, just simply ask,

"Do you wanna make love?"

Where do I go?

To the spots, yes those spots again.

Is it where we go to find someone

To make love and what love...yes what
love?

To hold a creation close and feel it,

Yes feel it with everything you've got.

Your hands and his hands,

The hairy arm and chest that is so perfect

From below, two beautiful well-formed -

What's the word?

The chest...and then down between

The thighs is waiting.

Feel it...

make it live and grow - hard and straight,

Hard and curved, up or down,

Just make it live and grow - so hard

Against your hairy chest.

Do you wanna make love?


- 140 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




A.P. Giannini


Flat, long and flat, are the buildings

And they spread in length and width

Like a body-less insect with roaming and
spreading legs:

At Giannini there is a yard and lawns

And walks and paths all around that

Obstruct:

There is not much beauty at Giannini

Inside are long hallways

Dimly-lit

Dirty and

Alive with the colors of faces

Few Black many white.

And the teachers like it that way

And dread the change

Coming

Through the main hallway

The Administration section

Presents itself:

One large open space with desks

And clerks

And a few offices for the necessary

Dean of Boys


- 141 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Dean of Girls

The Principal and Vice-Principal

Offices around the main enclosure:

Opposite is the Nurse's office:

The function of the administration is

Punishing students:

The quiet corridors are noisy

Between periods:

The noisy corridors are monitored

Between periods:

As each teacher stands outside

His or her class

Her or his classroom

And watches for the faults

Of young people:

Kissing and holding hands

Shouting and singing and swearing

Running and fighting:

All unhealthy and so wrong

For young people:

And the cafeteria,

Downstairs for the kids

Huge and alive with talk

the smaller one upstairs

Cozy and filled with gossip:


-142 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Miss B sits and correctly reddens tests

Mrs. O vociferates a new complaint

Mr. R is on the subject of the strike

And E is doing her knitting or reading

While D is on the same old rumor:

The conversations are usually about

Students:

"It used to be when we could punish

Students:

Due to changes now, we cannot discipline

Students:

Or send them home for swearing

Being late and doing bad things:

But the parents get upset,

And now a lot has changed."

Then one day, the conversation about

Students

Changes:

"She surprised me in this test"

"He is doing much better"

"She apparently took some drugs,

Poor Girl!"

And feelings come alive....

Some reasons are sought:

The teachers care, some don't know why


- 143 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Or how

But they care.


And what do the students do at

Giannini?

They steal some books from the

Library

The steal AV equipment from

Mrs. E

They take drugs and sell them too!

"Who is the cause?"

They steal whatever they can from

Whomever:

They, they, in general, they...

What else do the students do?

Ah yes, they shout and swear,

Run shove fight and disrupt:

Ah yes, they learn too - a few things:

Probably a rule or two or read a book

And know a friend's name and

Surely the teacher's name:

Mrs. A and Mr. D and U, L, and T:

Yes they know their teachers by heart

At least just what they need to know:

Is there really any learning at Giannini?


- 144 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Yes,

All those subject that spell....

Life.

Will the Life at Giannini prepare them

For their own life, lives?

A mixed world of children and

Teachers,

A much needed world of adolescents and

Their guides:

The lovely people at Giannini

The very helpful Mr. H. Vice-Principal

The strong and kind Mrs. E who has

Told me of family tragedies

And school experiences which she enjoys

The strict Miss G who admits in her own way

Her interest in her students

And B who is just starting off

Who hides all love and interest

With complaints

"Complaints"

About his "Kids"

Mrs. L. who loves her students

And maintains the respect needed

And the students

Growing clumsy and awkward


- 145 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Only is you are told and

If they are told:

Those students, quieter than

Others

But basically the same

Little adults who have not grown up

Little adults who

Want their way

But do not know exactly

Why?

And


The City pays for the school

Taxes buy books to replace the stolen

And there used to be bussing, but no more

And PTA meetings are held

Where students sing and play

And the Caucasians everywhere

And the Black, here and probably

There

And tutors and programs for the slow

And...





- 146 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------















(Brian Holban's drawing of me in Scotland)





- 147 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------









- 148 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Vittorio


I could have been Diocletian

You, a Greek athlete in prime;

We bared our lustful intimacies

And enjoyed this precious time.

You could have been a Greek

Or German, Jew or French:

It didn't matter, not at all

The place: a bed, a floor, a trench?

You were carved of stone, no marble,

As you held yourself so strongly

And massaged, massaged with your left,

Your rock hard chest heaving and fondly

I reached up and touched it too

From left to right all furry and hard

Your manhood, so sweet and tasty

Would challenge even the best Bard.

I have a picture of you in my home,

A painting, a sculpture, a masterpiece;

It can't be touched nor changed at all

Because it rests in my mind, not the least

Fear of losing sight of you, my friend

Until my breath is at its final end.



- 149 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




PS


The flimsy cotton up on high

Breaks in whispery threads

Upon the baby blue sky

As the wind blows and spreads

The puffy balls of cotton candy.

Now greyer clouds come racing forth

Larger, menacing bastions fort

With winds blowing below all sandy.

It's the desert, it's Palm Springs

Where palm trees blow gracefully in the
wind:

The trees around their leaves on wings

Come settling here and there on grassy
lawns.


The Old Man And The Dog

There was this old grumpy man

Who hated everything in the land

And even the dogs and cats they too

Were hated by the grumpy old poo.


His son would come to visit him

And bring his pooch along for fun


- 150 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




The dog would wander to his feet

And bark and bark and show his teeth;

How this "guelled" the man in his home

To have this little dog disrupt his home.


He showed displeasure to his son

And so he stopped the little dog's visit

And when the act was set and done

He was happy that than that to kill it.


He did reach such a stage I feel

Where he would have done the deed

If not kill the little bastard (he called him)

At least give him a swing with his hand

And topple the little runt to the floor

And give him the message "No more!"


- 151 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------
What a Day!


Got some rain

Nice weather

Can't complain:

What a day!


The Dutch countryside:

Ibises and storks

Ducks and swans

Villagers and water

A land of beauty

Before my eyes

Never knew a country

Like Holland.

Den Hague now

Where the Peace Palace is.

I'll study at home

The history and culture

Of Holland and the Dutch.

Tulips, dykes and mills.

The blue of their eyes

The gold of their hair,

Will forever take my

My mind back to Holland


- 152 -





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Amsterdam is a land

of water and beauty.

A thousand and one

bikes I've counted once

But that was across

A bridge or two -

The station, so great,

Has five hundred and more

Near the entrance, row

after row.

Old bikes, new bikes:

Mostly old, their wordly

possessions

(Ours a car and home).

Everywhere in Holland

Rides the blue-eyed Dutch

On their plain but

Useful bikes.

A country so green

And full of cows

That make Dutch

chocolate world reknown.

Peaceful cows on carpets

of Green

Are right now before


- 153 -





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my eyes as I gaze

From this train

On lush and verdant

Dutch terrain.

Rotterdam seems newer

than Ansterdam,

With skycrapers and

Industries, but built

Upon water everywhere.

It's such a beauty

To behold, the traffic of

Time and grace upon

The waters of the conds (?)

Ducks and swans and

Boats and barges too.

A street for them,

So calm and peaceful

A contrast to the blare

And noise of cobbled streets.

"Telecommunicatie

And Politie", that extra

"e"; and "Haag and "Daas"

Where double "a's" make

Up so much of their language

Isn't it interesting !?


- 154 -





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In Rotterdam I passed by

Circled buildings of blue

and gold

Then rectangles of

Boxes blue and gold.

It's so perfect there.


Moments


This is one of the

Happiest Moments of my life:

As I lie here on my new

Bed and Bedspread,

Looking out at my roses

and garden

And waiting for my love

To come home.

My yard is breathtaking,

My comfort satisfying.

I am happy

A Poem To Joseph

For years many will say:
"Tis but a dream you saw in the moonlight."
But I will say that on that day
The rays of the moon shown that face
That I held in my hands
From one so strong so impish
Into an aged man likened to a sage
Yes, a sage with so much maturity:
Each furrow a traveled path
Each line a hardened joy or fear
Twinkling eyes told the holder then
That for years the boy seen there
Will add more lines, more creases
Each from joy -  from pain from an
adventure to an
experience,
But whatever may
I'll remember that day:
"When I held the face of that man
In my hands
all bright with the moon above
Showing a strong young man
Turned to an older impish child.
But still, many will say to you that:
"Tis but a dream you had that day
That was sent from the moon above"
But I will say again that what I saw
Was real and true.
I know it was no dream.
For if you deny me that dream
Then you must in kind deny me.
That is not possible as long I breathe!
Deny the dream and so much more
That stories and  myths of ancient lore.
Shall we deny what ancients dreamt
To their minds and these did represent:
A goddess of beauty that orb ashining
Inspiring mortal with love and lusting
Or to some grisly transformations
To creatures vile as horrid apparitions
That roamed field and pastures
Wreaking havoc on all creatures?
From time and ages past
To present and future still
These myths and dreams will last
To inspire emotions and instill
In our minds these wondrous sights.
That inspire man to lofty heights.







-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Speak Out! June 18, 2000

(a poem by

Ron Spofford)


We walked together this day,

gay and straight,

to speak out for tolerance,

speak out against hate;

for our schools, our streets

to make them safe

for ALL who travel them.

And to those

by these words do chafe:

It isn't "Right" we seek to share,

but JUST - and FAIR.

We walked together this day,

simply...

for those rights for ALL we care.

Speak out!


Ronald V. Spofford

Boston MA

June 20, 2000





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------














Author with "Lucy"


Ray Laliberté was born in Lewiston,

Maine and has travelled much

throughout the world. He lived

in Australia for 4 years, Germany

for 1 year, and is presently residing

in Pasadena, California.





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Title of Poetry Book



I've Travelled...

and then some










--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

























(Back cover of Poetry Book)
Greek Wrestlers
Hercules and Diomedes



This book of poetry

is dedicated to all those

who took the time to

listen.





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
























The pain of rotting teeth, and money

needed to pay.

The look inside that mirror mirroring

the lines of Age

That grow upon my cheeks and hair,

my eyes, my chest.

The struggle in my little room, alone,

the agony of being alone:

The fear of life around, the hate of

being so apart.

___________


The peace I feel when in one's arms,

the strength I feel therein.

The love I feel for a fellow man,

The need I need herein.

I think of Charles, minutes unto hours,

I love him so, I need him so.

He'll give me strength to live a life,

He'll love me deep and true.

He'll give me help to see me through

Stormy skies to seas of blue

The love of Charles is what I need

To see me through this life.


And I'll play sports until I die

And look for people too