Death, be not proud...

as i sit and write, it would seem those mayans were wrong...or were they?...it has been a week of death, so to speak...an unfathomable tragedy at sandy hook elementary...which left those of us with no direct connection to the victims with a punch to the stomach and a catch in our throat...not with the personal task of a burial, a wake, a shiva...but then this week death started creeping from the perimeter...a lovely woman i have had the fortune of knowing from my writer's group lost her husband of many years to alzheimer's...i embraced her at shiva and saw her loss, her pain, and relief as well...her wish for his peace was answered, but what of her peace?...and then a funeral for a cousin, whom i had known so well as a boy, so much less as a man...a contemporary, born five weeks apart...sitting at his service and thinking about loss...what does it mean?...the eulogy and accounting of his life muffled by my memories of so long ago...the ones we try to grasp before they too are buried...memories of unspoken dreams of youth and sometimes in the pure bliss of having lived for the moment...i promised as i was handed the shovel graveside, battling a cold december wind, that death would never wrestle my memories...when it is my turn my soul will fly intact...floating with the unsung songs of all who went before me...

the root of the matter...

tuesday...the sun makes a return...i should be sitting at a large rectangular table at the old church in huntington...listening to stories, essays, prose, poetry and all in between...all delicious...served up by my fellow writers at the women's center...instead...i am seated in a dentist's chair...root canal...i am told the presentation of the roots, canals, etc. are unusual...rare...and i am laughing on the inside thinking what a waste...the unusual and rare in the base of some forlorn molar and not my head...the tooth is stubborn and i need many shots...i will probably drool till at least new year's...but i am not worried...even with hopes of being in the city a few times for the season i know that this look will allow me to blend in with the masses...really, does anyone flinch when they hear horror after horror...subway pushings, shootings in broad daylight...even lady liberty must want to put down that book and puke these days when she gets a gander at these masses...yearning to breathe!...yes, i'll move my lips with purpose editing my latest poem...drooling...smiling on the inside when the row of subway seats is given in haste to this mad poet...

We are such stuff as dreams are made on...

sleep...the curse of mid-life...we either get too little...or too much at the wrong times...or more precisely, find it easier to sleep at any time other than night...on a train (past your stop)...during a play...a movie...a sermon...through the last crucial 5 minutes of your favorite tv show...sometimes the very act of sleep becomes...well...tiring...because of dreams that leave you anything but rested...lately i have had vivid dreams...and i am the goddess of all creative in them...i create an amazing campaign slogan for a product...footnote...i am neither a copywriter or marketing exec...i am taking curtain calls while being showered in bouquets...ironic as i have not been involved in theater since freshman year of college...yet, when i sit to write...there is nothing...when did i slip into this parallel universe?...where are the poems?...and as i wait for creative divine intervention...you will have to forgive the kvetching stream of consciousness (or unconsciousness) of this blogger...sweet dreams...

Thanks for the memories...

turkey day 2012...without halloween this year, i find it hard to believe thanksgiving is here...i was in line at fairway a few days ago...lost in thought at check-out...and there they were...so close...the foil-wrapped chocolate turkeys...i was sure that if i gave into temptation and bought one or two with the intention of giving them away...that this would never happen...i would inhale them before i hit the first traffic light...but they did remind me of childhood thanksgivings...i seem to remember the day was always cold and i was in feetie pj's in front of the tv...watching the parade...the aroma spilling out of the kitchen, warm and soothing...excited that my family would be there in a few short hours...a large hug from my aunt sharyn as she happily put a foil-wrapped chocolate turkey in my small hands...the smile plastered on my face knowing chanukah was just around the corner...this year as thanksgiving arrives, with chanukah and christmas closing in, i feel somewhat guilty...we have been blessed in being spared the wrath of hurricane sandy...this is such a difficult time for so many...it is only right that we offer some prayer, however we believe, tomorrow for those who need it and so much more...and yes, this year, i am truly thankful...but i may have to hit fairway...the chocolate turkey is calling...

love in the time of cholera....

love in the time of cholera...i am looking at my copy of the book...a little beat-up looking...we are using this and many soft-covered books to block the sun from beating in through the small "upper windows" in our living room...until our blinds are put in...i am getting used to the look...all those wonderful books giving the collective finger to the new technology..but that, as they say, is another post...the title has me thinking...it certainly is catchier than "love in the time of vitriol"...which seems to be the subtext of life these days...and i am blue today..not because my candidate won, or lost...but because of the diviseness in our country...because it has become so easy in our society to point fingers at everyone...but ourselves...because everyone is the cause...and so few want to really be the solution...because i should have felt something one way or the other when the dye was cast, so to speak...and i did not...because really the only thing i see when i close my eyes is not red, white or blue...it is the grey of ruins...so much of the staten island i knew...and the happiest memories of youth...sundays at seaside...floating out in a violent ocean...i still reach for that optimism at crossroads...still try to reach across the breach of despair...love in the time of cholera...

elegy

i sat down several times to write an elegy...for the passing of my dear friend, june...but the words won't come...maybe it's impossible to write mournfully of someone so electric...so honest...so dear...our first meeting well over a decade ago...tennis lessons at a public tennis court in huntington...maybe laughing more than hitting...a fast friendship...then moving our tennis talents (apparent mostly to us) to inside courts and lessons...discovering that with her forehand and my backhand we made one great tennis threat...thursday happy hours...saturday morning breakfast marathons at panera...dinners in town, sometimes with mike and jim...sometimes with other friends...always her magnetic smile...she knew me at my best...my worst...and all in between...watching our kids grow into wonderful young adults...in my life there have been less than a handful of people who have for no reason, shortened my name and called me "sher" (really, almost sounding like "sheh")...first, my brother...given what else he could have called me, it was a term of endearment...then a boss many years later...which first startled me, and then i hardly noticed...and then, june...when she said it i couldn't help but smile...to this moment i can't tell you which of us was "thelma" or "louise"..."lucy" or "ethel"...but i can tell you one was never really whole without the other...i only know that next time a bartender asks, "what'll it be"...it'll be june whispering to the bartender, "hey, this is my friend, sher"..and i"ll smile...

red, white...and blue....

it is fall...and a presidential election year...a political fall...pun intended...they debate...we debate on winners and losers...generally, we are the losers...change is slow, and impatience quick...because this is the most important race...since the last one...and others before...gas prices rise...interest rates are in the toilet...need i go on?...this blog is not a pro or con...it is not red state or blue state...although thinking about it gets me blue...i often look at the process bottom up, not top down...i try to pay attention to who is elected locally, then state...so much of my quality of life, or lack there of, depends on this...many are well-intentioned...and get swallowed up...some toil quietly, unrecognized for their efforts...so, when the results are in this november...and half of you want to run for the border...maybe run instead to a school board meeting... or town hall meeting...speak up, and speak up loudly...it is your right and responsibility...i hope to feel this way again...i hope to feel less mute in the political cesspool...i hope when i speak...someone listens...then maybe i will feel less red, white...and...blue