Hobbies - Poetry - Anonn
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Alone

    for Billie's book, dedicated to Cat and memories of Lisa...

    Dear Mom,

    I miss you.
    I cry,
    I never knew alone till now,
    Now I learned that one single word may mean so much
    That it may even make a girl cry.
    I am not a girl,
    I am a little girl.
    I cry.

    Sorry, mom,
    I promise to smile again
    After I finish crying,
    OK, mom?
    It may take a while, though.

    I love you, mom.

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Always

    for Billie's book, dedicated to Cat and memories of Lisa...

    Dear Mom,

    You know,
    I have so many friends now
    I wish I could tell you about them all.
    Even boys.

    I found a picture of us together,
    Dad, you, sis (I am prettier), and me.
    I will make a frame for it
    And stick to it dry flowers.
    Dry flowers never die,
    They are always beautiful
    As long as we wish them to be.

    You will never die, mom,
    You will always be beautiful.

    I love you, mom.

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Imperfect

    for Billie's book, dedicated to Cat and memories of Lisa...

    My sweet daughter, my life,

    A wise woman I never knew
    Told me once
    That there is reason for all.

    She was right.
    I cannot explain,
    Not now.
    It is too difficult and I am too imperfect
    Though you will object, of course.
    I am only mom
    And the only perfection I have
    Is my love for you.
    One day I will whisper in your ear the secret,
    Right now
    I only wish to tell you
    I love you, daughter.

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Revisiting

    for Billie's book, dedicated to Cat and memories of Lisa...

    My sweet daughter, my life,

    You know,
    I could choose to be anything I wish
    When I next visit you –
    Your best souvenir,
    A letter from your most admired rock band,
    The sun on a cold cloudy day
    Or a flower on your cheek in the middle of the winter.
    I could even choose to become a fairy.
    I will not choose any of these,
    I am imperfect, you know.
    I only wish I could choose to come visit you
    As... your mom.

    I love you, daughter.

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Daughter Dear, Mother Dear,

    for Billie's book, dedicated to Cat and memories of Lisa...

    Moments soft, when I was humming
    Love in guise of soothing sound
    And your tiny fists were drumming
    Cheers inside my belly’s mound,

    Moments soft, the recollection
    When I screamed my right to life,
    When I clutched your breast’s protection
    Safe from pain, from world, from strife.

    Year by year, I watched you blooming
    From a toddle to a run
    From a bud in need of grooming
    To a blinding crumb of sun,

    Year by year, I do remember
    First I crawled, and first I smiled,
    Then your tear one cold December
    When I brought you flowers wild.

    Time will fly, I’ll be your shadow
    In the moments of your need,
    I will bless the fertile meadow
    Where you sow your future’s seed,

    Time will fly, sometimes unwilling
    I’ll forget your warm embrace,
    Yet, at nights, upon my ceiling
    I will draw your loving face.

    I love you.

    I love you.

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To Cat

    for Billie's book, dedicated to Cat and memories of Lisa...

    I never had a sister.
    I always wanted a daughter.
    I found a wonderful woman to love me.
    Then you called me brother, I called you sis,
    You spoke up for me.

    Now you are in pain
    And the rage of rage
    and the rage of impotence descends upon me.
    Meek the human, feeble the human
    on this one way street called life
    no crossroads no traffic lights
    just one way bustling traffic
    Scream your rage sister
    and may my rage be there to echo yours
    and soften the blow
    and cushion away the potholes behind you and ahead of you
    My rage in your pain
    and in the pain of all those innocent bystanders
    and victims.
    You are not alone,
    there is a sea of humanity around you.

    Do men cry?
    Do larks take to the sky?

    I love you.

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Furry Friend

    for Billie's friend - Timone...

    Little friend
    Behind the bend
    There's a land
    Wide and grand
    Green its field
    Blue its shield
    High its dome...
    Your new home.

    Now you soar
    To the door
    Then you wait
    At the gate
    Then you ring
    Then they sing
    As a place clean of sin
    Greets your little soul in...
    Wild and free
    Think of me.

    Way beyond my human reach,
    Mighty Lord I thee beseech
    With this tear that I send
    Make a nest for my friend
    Let him know, soon one May
    I will visit... to stay.

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To My Friend's Furry Bundle Of Joy

    for Billie's friend - Anya...

    I wish I knew to tell of paths from here to worlds beyond
    And open windows into naught with rhyme's majestic wand,
    Yet know I don't, and open can't, and all I own's the rhyme,
    My friend... your friend's in Neverland, beyond the reach of time.

    I read of pain inside your verse which rapes your bleeding heart
    And paints in amber's haunting touch the tears inside your art,
    It's just a dog... oh, heartless souls, damn wretches sowing strife,
    Yes... just a dog, and just a soul, and just a friend, a life...

    I know a place... beyond that cloud where rainbow's curve unbends,
    A mother sweet there waits for me, and joyful furry friends,
    I sent them message... "...guide her wise and keep her way from harms..."
    Till eons later, you my friend, will pick her in your arms.

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Departing To Never Return

    for Billie's friend, dead in a car accident...

    pain
    like rain
    leaves a stain
    and a glow
    when they go

    yet behold
    through winter's cold
    they don't part
    from your heart

    memories
    through summer's breeze
    light a spark
    in the dark

    they
    allay
    life's dismay
    and beguile
    you to smile

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Dear Zach,

    for Stephanie's friend, dead of cancer...

    I did not know you,
    I know what I have been told of you,
    I wish I was your friend.
    Lucky Steph,
    She was your friend
    She still is
    I envy you for such friendship,
    I wish she was my friend.
    I envy her,
    You were her friend
    You still are.

    You know, I come from a long time ago,
    My lineage leads back to the old Israeli tribes,
    My tribe, the Levy, one of the twelve,
    I own the language who mothered your name,
    I know it’s saying... Zacharya... Zachar Ya...
    The one who remembers God,
    The one whom God remembers.
    Both true,
    The double meaning like the double meaning of
    Friendship and Love,
    Like the single meaning of the handhold of
    Zach and Steph.

    You know, I love many people,
    I lost many friends,
    I am scared of the scourge which conquered your body
    and took you away,
    I am scared it may take away some of those I love
    like it already did,
    I am frightened.
    And here I am, I, the other generation
    And humbly I learn a lesson from two kids
    young enough to be my grandchildren
    Yet old enough to teach me the ways of life.
    Thank you Zach,
    Thank you Steph,
    for teaching me a lesson in...
    Courage.

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Jenny, Jenny

    through a puppy's eyes, contribution to kid's cancer collection...

    Jenny, Jenny, human sweet,
    Big of heart and small of feet
    Why this pink and pretty dress?
    Wait... I need your soft caress,
    Watch my fearsome puppy teeth...

    I am sorry for your shoe
    I'm a puppy, puppies poo,
    Why is mommy crying now?
    Wait... I'll grow, you'll teach me how
    All them baddies' butts to chew...

    Hear my bark... well, hear my squeal,
    Growling lion's pride I feel,
    Why this big car white and red?
    Wait... I can't jump on this bed,
    Let me bite this nasty wheel...

    Shadows... quiet... teddy's groan,
    I'm so scared to be alone...
    Why this awful siren's sound?
    Wait... if you keep me around
    You can have my rubber bone...

    I can see the parting lights
    Sparkling reds the eye delights,
    Why did Jenny say good bye?
    When she knows and so do I
    She will miss my puppy bites...

    I will curl close to that crack
    Waiting for the falling black
    Why these shadows on the prowl?
    Wait... I think I'm gonna howl,
    Jenny, Jenny, please come back...

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To A Friend, From A Friend

    for Savina, on the loss of her mother...

    It was not yet the time for my periodical call,
    "Hi mom," I said.
    "Hello there my dear son," I heard her answer, I felt her kiss,
    Surprised she was there. She was always there, I should have known it.
    "I knew you were going to call on me,
    You always do when you have a friend in need
    So I expected your call.
    You know I can only help with advice,
    And share some secrets sometimes too..."
    a soft laughter.
    "Did you meet her?... her mom?"
    "Of course I did, you are friends with her daughter over there,
    So of course I am friends with her mom over here,
    Nice lady, loves her daughter immensely,
    I will show her around, make her feel... at home."

    "Mom?..."
    "Yes?"
    "How do you talk over there, she does not speak your language?"
    "We do not have to speak with words over here,
    You would not understand if I tried to explain."

    "I hope soon to find it out myself..." I said, knowing it will pain her to hear it.
    She laughed softly again,
    "Don't rush, my silly boy, use all the time given to you over there,
    Here, you have all of the damn eternity to spend..."

    She did not use the word damn, it is just in my translation.

    "Mom?..."
    "Yes?"
    "Do you mind if I translate this conversation to English?
    I want to be able to tell her daughter I talked to you, and I understand,
    And she should not be so sad.
    And that you are helping her mom over there."
    I forgot that in her original language English was not a known word.
    "English? The only English I know is a dance,
    Called English Waltz,
    I was dancing it as a young woman.
    Remember, I tried to teach you?..."

    "...and I kept stepping on your toes..."
    That soft laughter again.
    "This is a soft, beautiful dance, for lovers only,
    At that time you were not in love.
    Now..."
    I almost felt her wink, and I blushed,
    "Mom, English is the language I talk with her daughter,
    What can I tell her?"

    I waited, minutes passing, hours,
    I knew she was there,
    She was always there.
    "Did you ask Him?"
    "You know I do not believe in Him?"
    "Yet you had long talks with Him after I joined over here."
    "True, I did, I cannot explain. And it does not change the way I feel.
    I still talk to Him from time to time."
    "You were always a complicated kid...
    I did not always understand you. But I always loved you."

    "I always loved you too. I always do. She loved her mom too.
    And her mom loved her. You know, you met her."

    Quiet.
    I could hear the quiet, flowing, passing.
    "What do you hear my little boy?..." ... I almost laughed,
    Over fifty years of age and still her little boy...
    "I hear... quiet."
    "Think again..."
    "I hear... your voice. I always hear your voice.
    All I have to do is close my eyes and I hear your voice."
    I felt the slight breeze on my cheek, her way of kissing me... after.
    "See?... tell her to close her eyes and remember her mom's voice,
    It cannot be forgotten,
    The soft words of love, the harsh words of teaching,
    The songs she sang to her..."

    "I remember the songs you sang to me..."
    "And she will remember the songs her mom sang to her,
    And bathe in their warmth..."

    "Smile for me, mom..."
    "Oh, but I do all the time, you just think you don't see it,
    Think about it."

    "You mean that woman hugging the new born to her breast
    Smiling through all that excruciating pain... is you?"
    I could almost see her nod.
    "And the woman smiling at my first tooth is you too?
    You were so young, so beautiful,
    You are still beautiful..." I could almost see the glitter in her eye,
    "And the woman taking me by the hand to my first day at school,
    The woman cleaning my first bleeding wound after a street fight,
    The one hugging me and smiling at my first heartache,
    The one hugging my child as if it was hers... all these are you?"
    "And all these are your friend's mom's smiles too -
    When she held her in her arms for the first time, seeing her first tooth bloom,
    Taking her to her first day at school,
    When she cleaned her first bleeding wound,
    When she cared for her first bleeding heart,
    When she hugged her kid's kid... so many wonderful smiles,
    Never to be forgotten."

    "Mom, do you have to leave now?"
    A girlish giggle...
    "I leave nowhere, I am here always,
    "I am..."
    I cringed,
    For a moment fearing she will use the word dead,
    I should have known better, she always cared for me, held my hand,
    Understood me like no one did...
    "...eternally alive..." ... sunshine... "...eternally watching over you..." ... rainbow...
    "I am part of the Ever Wenches group..." ...merry laughter...
    "And our motto - 'we reign supreme every man's eternal dream'..." rolling laughter...
    "Your friend's mom showed me her picture,
    She has a beautiful smile,
    Tell her we would like to see it again."

    Quiet.
    "Feel my hug?"
    I did.
    "Ask her to feel her mom's hug as well, she is sending it with every sunrise."

    "Mama..."
    The glitter there again, and the smile,
    "I know child, I know this tone, you want a personal advice before you close,
    I know."

    I waited.
    "I will give you my advice, my dear,
    Yes,
    Follow your heart, son, follow your heart and you can't go wrong."

    "I love you, mom."
    "I love you too."
    She was going to close, then I heard her saying as a fading afterthought...
    "You should try English Waltz,
    You will find you dance it today to perfection..."

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For Penny

    for my friend's mother doggy...

    The little things still there
    the food bowl, the collar, the hair all over the couch...
    The little things not there anymore
    the bark, the wagging tail, the imploring look for a cookie...
    Memories
    sunk into every tile
    encrusted into every chewed furniture piece
    the warmth still lingering on the thigh,
    there where her head rested one last time...
    So much innocence, so much beauty,
    such infinite love... gone...

    Gone?
    Gone you say?...
    How wrong can humans be...
    listen to those illustrious barks now chasing buffalos over the virginal prairies
    fighting with the bigger dogs over bone leftovers
    peeing where no one will ever tell her don’t!
    and, evening coming, laying with the muzzle into the sunset
    and waiting patiently for mom to join...
    one hundred years from now, does not matter,
    There, there is all the time in the world to wait.

    You will still hear her bark, oh, you will...

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To My Friend, Ankeeta

    to my friend's 20th anniversary...

    Twenty,
    like the count of your fingers
    your years.

    Put one finger against your closed lips,
    silencing squealing pups and cooing doves into listening
    as your prayers shine into a light
    enveloping the silencing finger and ascending to tree tops
    along vines and branches
    and uncurling leaves...

    Put two fingers against your closed eyes
    and let thoughts shine through eyelids and fingernails
    joining the venture of the rolling sun
    and the never setting twilight beyond the curving horizon glow
    and migrating storks carrying images of your beauty
    to lands beyond your knowledge...

    Put five fingers against your open heart
    and let timid music flow between them
    touching the cords of sitars and sarods and dilrubas
    flowing inside young lovers’ hearts and out of lovers’ eyes
    and between lovers’ lips touching...

    Put the ten fingers of naked palms against the rush of wind
    and the ten toes of bare feet against the warmth of earth
    and be blessed with the love you so much sing of to others
    and the happiness you so often dazzle with
    and the smiles of all those coming your way.

    To my friend, Kita

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Céline, Céline

    to my friend's newly born baby girl...

    Céline, Céline,
    your tiny chin,
    your tiny foot
    a morning’s flute,
    your finger’s curl
    a mother’s pearl,
    your smile... oh, dear,
    a mother’s tear.

    I saw a bird
    of name unheard
    its flowing rhyme
    and trills sublime
    designed for you
    like mountain’s dew
    like winter’s light
    and spring’s delight.

    I heard a song
    all summer long
    beneath the moon
    of lonesome June
    in flowers’ bloom
    and rain’s perfume
    when sunset rides
    on rising tides.

    Céline, Céline,
    ton nez divine,
    ta joue, ton doigt
    douceur du soie,
    la grace du ciel,
    le goût du miel,
    Céline, mon cœur
    et doux bonheur.

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I Often Wondered

    to my Wanda poetess-friend anniversary...

    I often wondered
    what have you found at the bottom of the lake
    those times
    when you swam on the deep layers of air
    your body immersed in the water
    and your head gliding along the bottom
    looking for that pearl
    no one ever found,

    was this the reason to the yearning
    in your Siren song?

    I often wondered
    how could you glide on the lake’s reflection
    so many miles away
    and still get your down wet
    and ebbs in your wake
    looking for water butterflies dancing with water flowers
    beneath a water sun,

    was this the reason for the longing
    in your Pied Piper tune?

    I often wondered
    at those dunes underneath your floating feather
    your neck twisted backwards at an unnatural angle
    yet your body moving unflinchingly on
    upon the desert’s burning sea of desolation
    looking for the potion to change
    grains of sand to drops of water,

    was this the reason for the craving
    in your Parthenope voice?

    I often wondered
    were these the reasons for the velvet
    in your poetry?

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to Daughter...

    to my friend's little daughter, all of her two years...

    Te duci să culegi sub zăpadă bujori
    Să-i semeni cu fulgi pe ai tăi obrăjori,
    Pe urmă te pui pe un colţ de trotuar
    Şi-aştepţi primăvara… “păi unde-ar fi chiar?”

    Şireturi albastre şi-a tale mînuţe
    Gătesc şapte noduri pe-a tale ghetuţe,
    Un fluture alb ţi se-aşează pe nas
    Pe urmă dispare… “păi unde-a rămas?”

    Păpuşa se culcă, şi-i duci căruciorul
    La masă, terasă, mai tragi şi covorul,
    O culci lîngă tine, spre visuri pluteşti,
    O mînă te-alintă… “mămică, tu eşti?”

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Mîncă

    to my friend's little daughter, again...

    Întîi cu un deget, pe urmă c-o mînă,
    Pe urmă ţi-e gura desen în smîntînă,
    Accepţi fericită un mic şerveţel
    Si-n loc să te ştergi îl mănînci şi pe el.

    Te tragi de ureche, frumoşi sunt cerceii
    Dar pare că-ţi plac chiar mai mult tăiţeii,
    Cu lingura-n mînă te ştii o crăiasă,
    Păi da, ce să zic, o crăiasă frumoasă.

    Îţi place-o felie cu unt, marmeladă?
    Sau poate-o bomboană? Ce zici… o grămadă?
    Cireşile roşii îţi plac. Ah, cu pîine,
    Da, sigur, mămica la fel, poate… mîine?

    Îi dai şi păpuşii un suc cu ulciorul,
    Săraca-i flămîndă, aşa-i şi covorul,
    La fel ursuleţul?... eu zău n-am ştiut,
    Ţi-a zis şi mersi, vezi, e bine crescut.

    Da, uite, acuma mămica-i flămîndă,
    Sub masă, ascunsă, mămica-i la pîndă,
    Mîncaţi-aş burtica, năsuc şi urechi
    Şi-ai tăi ochişorii, cei fără perechi.

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