fools, and poets

 "April, come she will"...a month that starts with fools...then baseball blooms at Citi Field...college basketball shoots its final hoops...holy days...for Jews, a celebration of freedom...and the eternal hope that future annihilation passes over...for Christians...a chance for rededication and rebirth...and chocolate bunnies...Earth Day...time to clean up...the roadways and Congress...and all of this during National Poetry Month...30 days to celebrate small works of observation...twisted phrases...pictures painted with words...metaphorically speaking...we turn down the noise...turn up the heat...hopefully, let you see things in a different way...we celebrate the unique...embrace the commonality...so for this month...read a poem...write a poem...support a poet by attending a reading...or buying a book...encourage children to try their hand...I write today because of a third grade teacher who did just that...in a public school in Canarsie, Brooklyn...she read Shakespeare sonnets...told us to try writing a poem about them...I still have mine...in my little black composition book of my first poems...I'm still learning...still listening and reading...still writing...the arts are a gift your soul never knew it needed...Happy Poetry Month...

Stop and smell the roses...

recovering after a wedding weekend...in the other promised land...Boca...my beautiful niece, Ilyssa...the warmest woman with a loving heart...a poetry buddy...because, you know...Sondheim...children and art...it is a very special thing being an aunt...loving and rooting for this little person who, with no warning, blossoms into an adult...the relationship can shift...suddenly, you are friends...and hopefully as you age...that person can, with your children, carry your memory forward...so there I was watching her radiate with joy as she married her bashert, Michael...Mikey...although my Michael is also Mikey in his family...so that would make this groom Mikey #2...they took their vows under the most exquisite chuppah...white roses...white roses everywhere...the room was fragrant and sweet...they were wrapped in the tallit of my late father-in-law, Joel...wrapped in everyone who came before hoping this moment would come...in this world which can take your soul if you let it...in this life which can put a burden on your back that can break you...you must seize these moments with both hands...and for a few hours...not let go...you must dance no matter which body part roared in agony when you got out of bed...smile and hug...laugh...and love...embrace people you wish you could see more...meet new people...snap those selfies...post with pride...and to Ilyssa and Mikey #2...this aunt wishes you a lifetime of sweetness...don't rush your journey...always take time together...to stop and smell the roses... 

Love Train

Valentine's Day 2025...my neck hurts and I think it's from looking at my phone every time there's breaking news...The White House...and 45/47 are giving me whiplash...and the local news...there's always Mayor Adams...the dumb chameleon...but lo and behold...in the middle of all this mishegas...a woman had a baby on the W train...I really didn't blink about the baby...I was too focused on what the hell is the W train?...for the people on that car Wednesday morning...well, the W might have stood for Why...as in why the hell did I take this train today?...imagine being late for work saying...a woman had a baby on my train today...but, to prove all stereotypes wrong about New Yorkers...people helped this woman deliver her baby...someone even had a pocketknife to cut the cord...we won't discuss the actual carrying such pocketknife on the subway...and of course others whipped out phones and took video...it was discovered that the women was missing for months from her native Florida...Netflix is calling...but in all of this was a pause...a miracle underground...and I thought...did the MTA make her pay an extra fare?...but seriously...winters are cold and dark in NY...and the world is closing in these days...and a baby born on your commute beats a lunatic dangerously invading your personal space...I once heard someone say Valentine's Day is a Hallmark-made holiday...but I disagree...it's a time to spend with those we love...in person...on the phone...in our cherished memories...and let a little goodness into our hearts...even from a heartwarming news blip on the local evening news...step lively, watch the closing doors...

everything was beautiful at the ballet...

Mikhail Baryshnikov...Misha...is 77 today...in my mind, the greatest male dancer in my lifetime...in my teens I became interested in ballet...not to become a ballerina...although I did dance in local theater productions...and stretched at the barre in dance studios my freshman year of college...but to watch productions in all their glory...my Aunt Harriet and Uncle Godfrey took me to my first ballet...1975...Rudolf Nureyev...I was hooked...thank goodness for PBS...and their ballet broadcasts in the 70s...in 1977, like many others, I saw "The Turning Point"...11 Oscar noms...no wins...despite the glory of Shirley MacLaine and Anne Bancroft...but the dancing...and Misha...to say I was a fan...understatement...I wrote a poem about his dancing...back when my poems rhymed...and sent it to him care of American Ballet Theater...and one day, as I dug my hand into our mailbox...face swollen after getting two wisdom teeth pulled...there it was...a letter thanking me for the poem...signed by him...I thought I was dreaming...that is was the painkillers...oh, it was real...and sadly, lost over the years of moving and packing and life...as well as the only copy of the poem!...(I do remember a lot of it, just don't ask what I had for dinner yesterday)...my college years...I tried to see one performance of every ballet company...Martha Graham...Joffrey...Twyla Tharp...and then for my twenty-first birthday...American Ballet Theater...a gift from my mom and dad...featured dancer - Misha...pure magic...a few years later I was meeting a friend in Times Square...we were going to see "Flashdance"...as I stood waiting, I saw Misha walk by me...I followed to see where he was going...ran back...found my friend...a dance fanatic as well...we raced into the restaurant where he had gone...we sat at the bar trying to figure out how to say hello...I came up with the idea to send a glass of wine to his table...the waiter screwed up and did it while my friend had gone to the restroom...I'm not sure she forgave me...but when the waiter put that glass down...and pointed to me...my knees turned to Jello...he stood up and raised the glass to toast me...the bartender whispered..."go over there"...but I couldn't...I just smiled...all eyes now on me...that was a lifetime ago...and what a career he has had...and continues to have...artists...and art...they save us...illuminate our life when it is dark...teach us the possibilities...so, thank you Misha...for what your art has given this, at times, broken world...what it's given me...and maybe tonight I'll pour a White Russian at dinner...