Category Archives: poetry

The ‘Volcano Sistas’

Watching the grand kids at play is a wonderful experience at moments when our life needs a little excitement, don’t you think?  Back to pretend land and the fascination of our youth.  Have a great day!

The ‘Volcano Sistas’

Though four, they wander like most youngsters do
and you wonder just what is about to ensue,
when two little minds are playing their games
in faraway places…. only they know the names.

Though deep in their world, they know you are there
watching them play from your nice, comfy chair,
and ever so often they’ll give you a glance,
then return to their ‘place’ in a fairy-like dance.

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They talk in strange voices of differing pitch
befitting of fairies or a wicked old witch.
They dress up in clothes matching each different mood
as they drink pretend tea that they’ve recently brewed.

They come up with names right out of the air;
a name that goes well with a girl in orange hair.
And they banter and barter in their magical play
in the faraway places…. they go to each day.

When it’s time to interrupt ‘cause their lunch time is near,
they freeze for a moment, not completely cohere.
Each differently thinking of what they should do
then hand-in-hand dance…. through fairy portal, to you.

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And when you address them and call them by name
a mistake you have made and they’re quick to exclaim
they’ve come from far places and rode many twistas
and they’re not Jude and Zoe….they’re the ‘Volcano Sistas.’

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under beauty, dolls, dream, fairy, fairy tale, Family, Friends, God, grandchildren, heart, kids, Life, Love, mental health, mind, people, poetry, young girls

“No Bed, Grandpa”

Visiting at my daughter’s home in Denver recently, tensions always rose each night when the time for the twins’ bedtime approached.

And although they seem to be starting to adjust to their ‘plight’ each night, one or the other still seems to ‘fight’ going to bed, in her own way.

Grabbing a blanket and holding close to a chair, a strong defense of crying is applied in rhythmic surges toward the rule ‘enforcers’…. in hopes of weakening their demands….and of course, to no avail.  In the end, though, they both got serenaded to sleep by grandpa.

 

“No Bed, Grandpa”

In stare through moistened, reddened eyes
having wiped away her tears,
she sends her ‘arrows’ in disguise
in stare through moistened, reddened eyes.
They pierce the heart not by surprise
with sweetened vengeance that coheres
in stare through moistened, reddened eyes
having wiped away her tears.

Holding her blanket against her cheek
leaning against the chair,
she glares defiantly; her eyes bespeak.
holding her blanket against her cheek.
My heart is wavering in heightened beat,
still captured by her stare
holding her blanket against her cheek
leaning against the chair.

Saying ‘I love you’ with poignant heart,
I let my ‘arrows’ fly,
whose sting doth make my love impart
saying ‘I love you’ with poignant heart.
“No bed, grandpa,” is the difficult part
in the tears of a four year old’s cry….
saying ‘I love you’ with poignant heart,
I let my ‘arrows’ fly.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under beauty, Friends, heart, kids, Life, Love, poetry, triolets, young girls

Crumpled Paper On The Floor

Well, it is Saturday again….where did the week go.  I hope all’s well with you.  I was reminiscing on how it use to be when I did most of my writing with pen and paper and how there’d be a build up of  paper wads on the floor due to my starting and stopping in the writing process….back in the day.

The computer has certainly made my writing ‘area’ a neater environment to work in, saved me time not having to clean-up and yet, at times, I still miss the mess.  It looked like I had actually done something or spent time trying to.  It’s a funny thing….this life thing.

My best to all of you this Saturday day in April.  Smile if you can.

 

Ctumpled Paper On The Floor

Back in the day I would pick up a pen
and write on some paper and stop only when,
I’d make a mistake that would alter my thought
and I’d crumple the paper…. feeling distraught.

And if it was so I was lagging behind,
cause the heart wouldn’t agree with the bumbling mind,
I’d stop, start and throw crumpled paper to the floor
and hour after hour, I’d wonder what for

since ever so often I’d forget what I wrote
and search the floor’s carnage for a tossed away note
or verse or some saying….  I wrote that I liked,
and finding it, wondering…. why it got me so psyched.

But time has pressed on, it’s a keyboard I strike….
forming all of my words and…. if the thoughts I dislike
then I just hit a key and the old thoughts are gone….
No mess to deal with…. I simply type on.

But time has not changed the heart and the mind
and often my thoughts are distressed and behind
but at least I don’t worry about what’s on the floor
I just keep on a typing….still wondering what for….

but, in my defense….after all.…it’s Saturday.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Your Place

Your Place

 

There is a place I like to go
to sit and try to dream
when part of life has lost its glow
and lowered my esteem
down to a point that makes me feel
I should have offered more
and that is why I look to dreams
for what I’m looking for.

And where’s this place I journey to
to sit and gaze in stare;
perchance to stumble on a view
and catch it in my snare;
catching dreams that float around
when everything is still
in a place that’s like a whim
and only lasts until….

I waken to a soothing breeze
and wrinkles ‘cross the stream;
whispering notions in the leaves
I know it’s not a dream?
And I feel much better than I did
although I can’t explain
but I know, you know this place, like me
where refreshing soothes the pain.

Your place might be a comfy chair
or maybe in your bed
or beneath a tree in the city square
or on the road that’s up ahead.
But mine is usually by the stream
that meanders among the trees
where solace found, stills my heart;
and life’s again, at ease.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under countryside, dream, God, heart, Love, mental block, mental health, poetry, trees

Fairy Rescue

Personally, I think it is good to mix a little of one’s self into one’s kind of flattery –   create a little doubt, mix a little fantasy into the reality mix.  We have to be a little dizzy once in a while since were spinning around the sun at roughly 67,000 miles per hour.  hehe    Have a great day!!

So, I’m Not Right

I saw her lying by the road
all ‘puddled’  by the rain
and standing by her was a toad
up leaning on a cane
cautiously looking all around
to see just who would come
saying something I could not hear
o’er the beating drum
that now had just begun to beat
in tones I barely heard
as noisy leaves fell on my feet
as squeals came from a bird
swooping down now where she lays
close to the thrusting cane
the toad is waving aimlessly
scowling with disdain.

The darkness of the misty morn’
can’t hide the loudening drum
as fairies come from the field of corn;
the drum beat now a 
humm.
They wave away her guardian knight
and lift her on a leaf
and away they fly in the misty dawn
taking my belief.
There’s always someone standing by
to tell you, you’re not right
when using words that seem to lie
making others feel uptight.
It’s not that you are being bad
but it’s scary ‘cause you’re bold
after all, there might be an ounce of truth
in the story you just told.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dream, fairy, fairy tale, fog, heart, Love, mind, people, poetry, trees, wildlife

The H and Five W’s Gang

Just a little triolet……hope all is well with you and your writing.  Have you seen these guys?

 

 

The H and Five W’s Gang

 

Though always there within your head….
they often hide without a clue,
at times, they’re sleeping or playing dead,
though always there within your head.
Of What, Why and When…. one is often misled
when searching, too, for How, Where and Who…
Though always there within your head….
they often hide without a clue.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Love’s Adjustment

It is Saturday, my favorite day of the week because I’ve always enjoyed its feeling…..it’s an ‘open’ feeling, for me…..hard to explain but something like the feeling I get when I travel west….a feeling as if all pressure has been lifted off my shoulders….I feel lighter….warmer…..free-er…..whatever!  haha.

But the day can also be a fun day…..fun meaning loose, anything goes, irregular, doing something different, having thoughts hard to explain, doing something stupid, writing idiotic thoughts down…..all clean things in thought, word and deed……just different…..frivolous…..etc.

That brings us to this poem…..not sure where it comes from…..maybe someone is ‘channeling’ me….wish they would ‘channel’ me a few million dollars along with the thoughts, if they are…..haha

I hope you have a great day and thanks for stopping by.

Love’s Adjustment

What is the gain when love is pain
  and strikes into our hearts?
Where do we go with what we know
  without the missing parts?

What is the deal when love is real
  yet flaunts a side of gloom?
It has its days and in many ways
  its cries come from the womb.

Is it best that we ignore, what we think might be in store
  when thinking what it is….we do not know?
Should we watch the heart in stride, thus, help the mind decide
  on how to help love’s face regain its glow?

Even love is strained, at times; lost in life’s old rhymes
  as good and evil pressures hold us down.
And love, must, too, adjust…. and, in it, we must trust
  and enjoy the smiles it creates from every frown.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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“That’s the Way It Is, Son”

“That’s the Way It Is, Son”

“In my class, dad,” the young lad said,
“is a cultural mix of our world….
And each of my classmates is a thoroughbred
on a flag of all nations, unfurled.”

“We all get along,” he continued to say,
“though our differences, at times, may be great.
And yet in the news, the story they portray
is towards each other…. it’s all about hate.”

“That’s been the way,” he said to his son,
 “from the beginning of time, as we know;
It’s a story that’s tragic and won’t be outdone
and will simply just be the status quo.”

“You must remember,” said the young man’s dad,
“that every person is a person like you;
some in situations not good… and that is sad
for many  ‘friends’ …it’s tough getting through.”

“I use to have a pen pal,” said the boy, “who I met
 when the teacher handed out a list of names
we could write to in the world and who I never did forget;
whose fun was getting water while mine was getting games.”

“That’s the way it is, son,” the father said subdued.
“You’ll find so many ways that life’s unfair.
But government’s peoples….are people just like you
who love their families with hearts of love and care.”

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under Family, Friends, kids, poetry

Eternal Rhyme

Eternal Rhyme

 

Day has come; the night has fled.
Hope has sprung and raised its head.
Worries wonder about what to do
The heart is warming; its beat is true.

Another day has come along.
You have a chance to sing a song
different from the ones before
that rubbed your heart and made it sore.

Spring’s returned into your step.
The warmth consoles and gives you pep
to march this day against your ‘foes’
and stand your ground in sweet repose

and show the world just how you’re made
not soft and easy, as once portrayed
but ready to stand to fight the fight
with lifted ‘sword’ for what is right.

Vanquish worries that hold you down
and guard the spirit, you’ve turned around
and be what you are….and be it strong
cause this is you….this is your ‘song.’

Not all will like it, but that’s okay.
Life is different in every way
and you are needed to share this time
and play your part in this eternal rhyme.

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Filed under Blogging, crafts, heart, Life, mind, people, poetry, song, Spring, world

Duct Tape Billfolds

My attempt at making duct tape billfolds.  These are neat and functional and well received in the community.

miscellaneous

soda

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