Category Archives: New York

September Stickball

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Along the sidelines they stood,
while the sticks flailed wildly,
boys running screaming round the sidewalk-chalked bases.

We were only girls, unwelcome to the rhymes and rhythms of the male psyche,
as testosterone rode high in these ten-year-old men.
We cheered and screamed, blew kisses and taunts,
giggled madly and pulled down skirts,
afraid to be noticed
yet afraid not to be.

Our fathers soon came home
some in high spirits, others in despair.
Soon words registered–angry, sad, laughing,
Then mothers called us to dinner.
Sticks and balls dropped,
arguments about who won and who owed what,
while we picked up our school books, and ran down the street,
to set the table and serve dinner,
while our brothers boasted about their prowess,
taking their princely places at the table.


It’s 9° with a Slight Chance of Snow

sandlakeambulance.org

oil painting from the Sand Lake Ambulance collection – for sale

Cold settles cruelly in your head
It chases you quickly into bed
You cover every part you can
Yet still it clings, so unwelcome.

Open the cupboards
And there it is
Hiding in corners
And dishes and things.
Take off your gloves
And it appears
Slip them back on, and whoosh! Disappears!
Open your coat, it rushes back in
Wrap on a scarf, add on a hat,
And so you presume that is that!
It’s crushed for a moment,
Put in its place
But then it strikes back
It lashes your face.

Oh, cold, how I wish you would go, you must know
I shiver to think of all the snow
That lingers behind as you exit the scene
It stays for a week, sometimes longer it seems.

‘Tis very annoying to shovel so much
I’d rather be drinking from a tea-cup
And savoring winter on the inside
Watching through windows, people slip and slide
While laying about, safe and secure
Dreaming of summer spent at the shore.


Ah! Snow!

www.sandlakeambulance.org

oil painting from the Sand Lake Ambulance collection-for sale

Ah! Snow!
Those tearful winds do blow and blow
Blow round and round
Above the ground
And only they know where they’re bound.

Oh! What wonders are!
No snow did settle on my car
But seem it did to parry first
Then hurry with determined bursts
And blow and blow determinedly
Into my neighbor’s yard, you see!

‘Tis sorry I be for his grief
To shovel snow, so many feet
But next time I shall not escape
From winter’s rage and stormy fate.
Yet pleased I am that for today
I may remain in bed and safe!


Subway Love

subway-love


You Light Up…

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oh my, look at me light up!


Parked Cars in NYC

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No spaces found. You’d think
cars would be anathema in this town
of subways running 24/7, and car thieves prowling round
Mercedes lining every street
BMWs looking oh so neat.
You’d think they’d smarten up,
but not in this town.
In this town they run around, cell phones held out,
oblivious to sounds
of footsteps, and I wonder who will lose
tonight.
Shattered glass tells tales of thieves
and late-night news weaves stories of grief–
cellphones ripped from unsuspecting heads.
New Yorkers.
Stupid, for growing up on these streets, nothing’s ever left to chance.
You know better living here.
Tuck your jewelry in your blouse, turn your rings around. And sneakers.
Can’t outrun the bad guys in heels.
So jack my car–I have insurance.


Subway in NYC

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The trains pass, crowded with humanity,
a woman, crushed against riders,
with hair askew and packages in hand,
grabs hold the car’s gleaming pole,
struggling for space
as a myriad of hands,
unrelenting, begrudge her safety.
Out the window more trains pass,
each bears burdens of day’s woes,
work undone, promises broken,
jobs lost, some won,
though weariness surfaces in all–
the city takes its toll.
The woman exits, with little relief,
her evening a reflection of her day,
as cook and clean fill the hours,
till slumber calls
and sweet caresses of dreams obscure the city’s madding screams.


don’t jump…

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political issues aside
there are some things I really can’t hide
though finances are rough
not having a dog
is getting real tough
and depressed is a new state of mind


Off the cliff!

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obliged to all
my brain dissolves
in New Year’s wine
in champagne’s fine
attributes
in chocolates and delicacies
that palates must attend
to such distress as tongues
and taste without refinement
as we pursue a state of sheer inebriation
without a hint of what the morn shall bring
in pain and torture
as heads collide on pillows softer
than an angel’s hand could lend.
Oh, we are, doubtless, a species of abuse!


ethos

oppressed
exigent days
New York fills me with a haze
of smoke and soot
abides not well
New York borders on the hell
of crass indifference
and yet to tell
it often proves a boon
a source of pride as all collide
and come together, side by side
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A New York Nightmare

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASunnyside, so comforting a name
Now can only claim
A place of death,
Another in NYC.

Queens, so regal it proclaims
But harbors those who maim
And kill the innocent of this a city,
Inured to violence
A purple heart of death.

We honor killing, murder, depravity
And toss aside what’s left of our humanity
Replacing it with such insanity
That souls are set adrift.


Deterioration

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When I awoke
The day just lay there
Stagnant.

Which dream was real
No hour longer than this day
Under cover though I stay
Tangled mess, my sheets tell the tale
of distress.

Never comfortable
The next awaits
And never arrives.

I wait
When darkness overcomes
To hide has just begun.


Death Tracks in NYC Dec 27

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAVictims of the city walls
All await a deadly fall
Through sewers, streets and shopping malls
The Subway tracks tell us all
That life is rotten to the core
When we neglect our neighbors call
No jobs, low wages, a scary sight
As politicians continue on
Wreak havoc on so many here
And food a scarce commodity
While rents increase and they rejoice
To those we pay a living wage
As we scurry to our grave.


…to Silver, Obama, Romney and all…

It’s a dog eat dog world
If you know what I mean
It’s Martini and Rossi
It’s a drunk’s perfect dream
There’s a bone in the cupboard
And more in the store
But you’ll pay through the nose
And eat off the floor.

So here’s to the jobless
And the minimum wage
To Obama and Romney
And the millions they make
For themselves and their cronies
For the widening gap
‘Tween the poor and the rich
And no middle class.

Just one more thing –
Here’s to Silver and his crew
In New York they had thought
A raise was their due.
But they screwed themselves royally
And this I don’t mind
For its been several years
Since I’ve seen a dime.

I’ve been without work,
Just one of a crowd.
Don’t mind me saying
I’m not really proud.
But I can’t rightly say what a restaurant looks like
Haven’t been to the barber,
Cut my own hair, that’s right.
And the doctor, well hell
Who knows the last time
Had my temperature taken
Or felt really fine?
And my house,
Well it’s standing
But when winter comes
The thermostat won’t reach past 51.
That’s Fahrenheit friends,
Not Celsius, no
So I’m glad those old sweaters I didn’t let go.

So here’s to Silver, Obama, Romney and all
The politicians who knock at my door
Wanting my vote
For what, I should ask.
They’ll do what they want
And we’ll fall through the cracks.


Life, filled with discord

Oh Jane.
Your life, filled with discord, rolls by
A paranoia unprotected
Your life
So convoluted you cannot know
What pain is real and what is not.

Jane, you are a true and beauteous moment
Of god’s own glory and nature’s bliss
Of loves’ lost and loves’ awaiting mist
Of minds beliefs and minds believing grist

You can surrender, though you would not admit
What your own mind tricked to assist
The venomous regions
Of life’s beguiling twists
That you alone have seen the coming end
Of wife and husband
No love, I can assure.


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