Enigma

Enigma

Phoenix (Kenitra, Morocco - 1973)

Phoenix

Meaning

I read your poem.
It was like looking
Into a well
That grew darker
And deeper
With each word;
It was only after
I dropped a stone
Into the silence
That I heard
the faint whisper
of water.

Post Mortem

The Chinese maple,
Brought back from death
Five years ago
By the Italian yard worker,
Is a living testament
To the faith you possessed.

You asked me for a prognosis:
I pronounced it dead.
But here it is, again, this spring -
Exploding with delicate
Diminutive green leaves,
And the stoic soul of an old bonsai.

Had you listened to me
There would be nothing in its place,
But a hole in the sky.
Thank you for acting on your faith.

Fairy Tale

o sweep away the waves of seas...flat
be still and serious...
so that i may speak of flowers,
on levels of my knees,
swaying in fields
full of breezy butterflies

ask grass impossible questions
and trees shake feathery birds
out of their limbs
under whose shadows you lived
like a lifeless princess

your bare feet and lips
and face asleep,
your whole soul
limp with gravity

you silent hands
held sudden kisses

your waking hands
touched buttons
pulled zippers full of honey

before the summer rain
forgotten in this fields

red apples grew
and fell, uneaten

spring was, bees buzzed,
crikets chanted

and before that
gray squirrels scurried

while flat brown leaves
floated soundlessly down

dreaming or drowning
we stood under stars ticking

woke wildly in fields
with red roses singing

and heard, (ever so faintly)
the invisible wings of love

hovering above
this new green season

Bedtime Story

read me a story mama,
one with bad bears
and a sleeping princess

one with a ballerina
forced into the gutter

leave out the commas
and the counting numbers

put in george washington
and his soldiers
freezing a valley forge

leave out electricity
and time-sharing computers

but put in the boy
who rain away in the rain
without an umbrella
to live with the gypsies

At a Loss for Words

rain,
mumbling in monotone,
makes me wonder:
how long i can endure
silence
between thunder?

The Skater

skating backwards
in the center of the rink

she seemed to move in special ways
through dreams of her own

turning moments of imbalance
into movements of ballet

it was as though she reached out
and touched the air to steady herself -

she never fell

Zen Moment

Inhale/exhale:
One is breath -
The other death.

Valley of Words

i woke,
dreaming in an age
of snowwhite
sorrow - snowflakes
hung in my hair,
dandelions
grew at my feet -
i was in the valley of words
gathering your poem

Winter Vision

seldom
in the sudden rain
have i known
such silence,
has it grown
so quiet -
watching
a lone gull
fly into
the gray
soul of winter.

Mermaid

i remember how you slept -
one arm curled
around
the pillow,
tightly like a tendril

you were a slender
shape,
a soft breath
of air
asleep in the darkness
(or so it seemed)

but in your soul
you were a raging river

and slipped away
to chase elusive
downstream dreams

until the reflections
of another world
flickered
across your face

and you woke
with the taste
of the sea
still on your lips

Winter Pond

last spring
an infinity of stars
danced
on the face
of this frozen
winter pond,

sang
in its watery soul
like words
in the heart
of a haiku poet

now
not even a heavy stone
can wake it from
its icy silence

Driving the Backwoods

Driving the wooded backroads
the rays of the morning sun
flicker through the branches
like fingers
across harp strings

Rejuvenation

by jr paruolo
____________________________________________________
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." - Robert Frost
____________________________________________________

Unlike trees,
We have no silent season,

No way to go dormant...
Until we can rejuvenate

In a gentle reawakening
To sunlight

Or softly falling rain -
Instead,

We are expected to produce daily,
A new green leaf…

As proof of our existence,
As evidence of our contribution

Candy Island

A long time ago, in 1902 to be precise, a woman named Candy Corner discovered an island – an island that was like no other island on earth. It was unique. Everything on this island was made of candy – the mountains, the rivers, and the trees – even the beaches. And there was only one season – mild – so nothing ever melted. Candy Corner like the island so much she named it after herself. She called it Candy Island. (I never said she was clever.)

For many years, Candy Corner lived alone (or as she would say – privately) and enjoyed all of the delicious varieties of candies, exotic and indigenous to the island. In the beginning, she cataloged each new species as she happened upon it and named it based on color, taste and fragrance. But after a while the task became tedious and Candy Corner settled for just exploring and tasting.

Remarkably, for all of the candy she ate, she never gained or lost an ounce. One morning, however, she woke with a terrific toothache. Moaning and groaning, she thought – “What this island needs is a really good dentist.” So, she put a note in a bottle, advertising for a good dentist, and threw it into the ocean and waited.

A few days later, a small steamship appeared on the horizon. A small launch made its way towards the island. Not one, but thirty-two dentists came ashore and offered their services. Thirty-two dentists extended their hands and offered their business cards. Not knowing which one to choose, Candy Corner selected one at random and had him fix her ailing tooth. In gratitude, Candy Corner declared the first island holiday and invited all of the dentists to stay. After all, she had thirty-two teeth and figured it was a good idea to have a different dentist to look after each tooth individually. So, she made them all specialists and gave them titles like Dr. Molar and Dr. Incisor based on the teeth they preferred to work on.

Now, with the problem of her teeth solved, Candy had no more worries. She could return to her explorations and candy tasting which, of course, kept the dentists very busy.

As time passed, and Candy Cane grew older, she needed help walking around. So she made a cane out of candy. This was the first candy cane. (Not too many people know this fact. Most people associate candy canes with Christmas.)

With the aid of the candy cane to get about, Candy Corner was again able to walk down to the ocean every morning to take her daily swim. (She found the salty seawater a refreshing change from the sweetness of the candy.) All of the dentists, smartly dressed in their doctor's coats, and with nothing else to do when there were no cavities to fill, followed behind her in single file and sat on the beach until she was done swimming.

Candy Corner was an excellent swimmer, but on this morning, something went terribly wrong. The waves tossed her wildly about. Frantically, she waved her arms in distress. She had eaten too much candy for breakfast and had not waited the recommended one-half hour before plunging into the frisky sea. She had candy cramps and was drowning. She cried out to the dentists on shore for help.

All thirty-two dentists stood frozen on the beach. Dressed in their white doctor’s coats and looking real sharp, they were useless in any emergency that had nothing to do with teeth. Whenever Candy Corner swallowed another mouthful of water, all they could yell out in unison was – “Rinse!” (Meaning, spit out the water.)

Finally, Dr. Molar had a brilliant idea. He threw Candy Corner a grape lifesaver. But Candy Corner just ignored it.

“You dummy!” exclaimed Dr. Incisor, “She hates grape. Her favorite flavor is cherry!”

So Dr. Molar threw a cherry lifesaver as far out into the ocean as he could. Candy tried to grab on to it, but she was so skinny she slipped through its center and was never seen again.

Sad at Candy Cane's untimely demise, and with no reason to remain on the island, the dentists radioed for a steamship to take them home.

News of the island quickly spread around the world and tourists from almost every known country and nationality began visiting the island. Unfortunately, most of the tourists that visited the island were nibblers. And in spite of the NO NIBBLING signs posted everywhere, they slowly nibbled the island down to nothing until it disappeared. (Today, an occasional piece of salt-water taffy, tangled in seaweed, will wash ashore somewhere.)

The only remaining map in existence is the one I have drawn form the memories of an old dentist I visited once – but I think he died recently.

Cass OES (Image)

The Lesson (Poem)

It might have been
the wind

Or the shadows of crows
flying between

Dreams of light
and dreams of darkness-

But something
made me turn

To face a place
within myself

Where all things originate
and into which all things disintegrate-

It taught me not to hesitate.

We Sing Small Songs (Poem)

by jr paruolo
_______________________________________________________

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one. - Albert Einstein

_______________________________________________________

We sing small songs beneath the rain, then sleep.
Light and shadow mix. We succumb to change.
We wake to shape unspoken dreams to speech.

Stars, like unconscious thoughts, flicker and leap.
We yearn to know the meanings they contain.
We reach out to touch things we cannot reach.

We give up to Time more than we can keep;
(Nothing but the intangible remains.)
We wake to shape unspoken dreams to speech.

Life hangs in season like a fruit asleep,
Poised precariously above the pain.
We reach out to touch things we cannot reach.

Truth is comprised of a few small beliefs
That we examine again and again.
We wake to shape unspoken dreams to speech.

Between the Shadow and the Light, we seek
To find meaning; we attempt to explain.
We wake to shape unspoken dreams to speech.
We reach out to touch things we cannot reach.

The House of Homeless Robots

They always travel in pairs.
It is the only way they can survive.
They must wind each other's clock springs in order to continue their journey.
None powered by batteries have ever made it.
They arrive at all hours of the night -
perambulating methodically, precariously,
each in its unique own way.
Most are made of tin; some are plastic;
a few are hybrids made of composites.
The latter group is considered inferior.
They are all searching for the Key Keeper -
the one who possesses the Universal Key
capable of winding their tiny clockwork mechanisms,
giving them perfect eternal perpetual motion.
They only stop here because it is safe.
The able ones leave in the darkness of the next night -
sometimes with a new partner, sometimes with the same partner -
after going through an almost Darwinian process
of weeding out those no longer fit to continue the journey.
Where the they go is unknown - it is forbidden to follow.
Those that remain behind,
those who no longer have partners
to wind their clock springs, run down and stop.
Their motionless carcasses litter the floor.
Occasionally, one will jerk into motion -
spasm - from the release of some small amount of pent up energy
left in the spring.
Then it is over.

Cassidy (OES)

Cassidy with his summer hair cut. He often appeared, as he did here, as his alter ego: a Tibetan Goat Dog. (1991-2002)

Cassidy