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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C to my at times depressed friend J and her dogs C and L... Hello, my name is C and I am a bitch. Literarily, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I have a brother, my bloody brother L, though we’re not of same blood and he is a dog. Literarily too, though he wishes he was a poet. Dogs and their dreams. He is big, and clumsy, and loves chasing cats and squirrels and humans and from time to time lets out a howl that would frighten a hyena, his way of poetic expression though it is mostly misunderstood. Hey, he is soft and wooly and wouldn’t hurt a fly but he would bite my tail off if he’d known I said it, so please, don’t tell. Lol (I wish I knew what it means). We own, between us, a human female named J, she thinks she owns us – humans are so naïve, I would laugh if I could. She has the prettiest ass in the world (I know, I’ve seen it) but for strange reasons she drops it from time to time to ground (metaphorically) and drags it through mud (metaphorically) and lets it get depressed (metaphorically) yet luckily for her I’m a border collie, I know how to deal with such unnecessities, you should see my teeth. Hey, mistress, it’s snowing, I bark at her and spill her cocoa drink and drag her in her pj’s out and wrestle her down into the snow where we roll and scream and eat snow and life is suddenly beautiful, even for her. Hey, mistress, here is the last flower of the year, I bark at her and show it to her then I eat it just to spite her and she pulls my tail and I eat her slipper and she rides me and I growl at her and life is suddenly beautiful, even for her. Hey, mistress, what about a hug? I bark at her and muzzle my way in between her arm and her bosom and she has no choice but to drop the book or loom or sourdough jar or whatever and let her fingers wade through my fur and her nose sink into my neck and we share every flea colony I may have down to the last one and every heartfelt sigh down to a never ending stream of sighs and life is suddenly beautiful, even for her. Even for the fleas. Joking. L, join us? I call my big clumsy wooly brother to join the melee and he jumps on top crushing us both with his weight and his love and I can see beyond my mistress’ closed eyelids that she is left with no choice but smile and, for once humans and canines agree... hey, life is damn beautiful, hey, life is worth living, you know? Damn, ain’t I one great border collie? Woof!

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