Tag Archives: dreams

Bus from the Past

In a posting on January 04, 2012, in my poem “The Kid’s Yellow Bus,”  I reminisce about the years when our two girls rode a yellow school bus twelve miles to their country school,   our son, who was born twelve years after the birth of our last daughter, stood and watched them go and come everyday.   Years later, the threesome rode the bus together briefly.

The fact that the bus still passes by the house brings back those memories which I refer to in this poem.   Life gets up and gets going for all of us and this is just one of those remembrances in the wife’s and my heart.  Thanks for dropping by.


Bus from the Past


It comes from the south every morning at six
screeching as it slows in the leaves and the sticks
that cover the road from the fall’s brisk winds.
And with front beams on high and its red lights aglow
through the fog the bus hustles to the stop sign below….

at the bottom of the hill where it meets the east road,
though it turns to the left and west with its load –
youngsters all asleep on their long ride to school,
still immune to the revving of the school bus’s whine
and the innumerable stops that it makes ‘on a dime.’

There once was a day when the bus stopped here
and picked up the kids and all of their gear
and hauled them away to that ‘place’ for a while
where they studied and played and spent the whole day
and learned what to do that would take them away.

And it came to a point that it was just a routine
and we took it for granted like the sounds of the scream
we heard down the road in the darkness each morn’
and listened for the screeching as it came to a stop
as we hurried the kids out through the screen door’s  plop!

After all of these years, we still hear the ‘screech’
on its approach from the south in the dark and the reach
of the early morn’s silence as we ready the day.
And pausing, momentarily, we listen for the past
the stop and screen door’s plop…. knowing blessed…. at last.

copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Filed under kids, Love, poetry, Yellow Bus, young girls

Another Day

Have you ever found yourself wanting to write something and the blahs seem indifferent to the idea?  Hence, you can not connect with any mood to help you write something…..and….you have a time slot to do it…..even?

Well….guess what?  It’s another day….and it’s acting like it.   lol   This is what my ‘blankity, blankity,’ mind came up with…..lol

Hope your unique day is filling.



Another Day


When first you rise and eyes are blurred
with hair that’s all a mess,
and sounds are muted in every word,
when first you rise and eyes are blurred.
And getting up you feel absurd
stumbling as you dress
when first you rise and eyes are blurred
with hair that’s all a mess.

Today is just another day
that’s relinquished in the end,
so why’s the body in such a fray
today is just another day
that’ll start up in the normal way
and you’ll follow like a friend.
Today is just another day
that’s relinquished in the end.

That it’s completely different from
all the other days,
it plays a ‘tune’ that’s hard to hum,
that it’s completely different from.
And being unique from whence it come,
its ‘print’ will show the ways
that it’s completely different from
all the other days.

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Filed under mental block, mind, mood, poetry, triolets, Words


For those of you who follow me avidly in my email, I have finally returned home from my trip to Colorado, where I had an enjoyable time in the mountains and with family and cousins.  Hope all has been good with you.




Supposedly, the world is such
that what we sense is real
but struggle to confirm what we can’t touch,
though there’s a ‘presence’  we can feel.
These things unseen all factor in
and influence us every day
which is why…. involuntarily
we sometimes lose our way.

But has this always been the case
in all of life….before?
In centuries past with slower pace
was the ‘presence’ less or more?
Was it there at all to help life move
on structured whims of chance
or down a road toward distant gate,
it positioned in advance?

There is a journey all will take
like a nightly trip to bed
and what we know, we will forsake
and go to dream….instead
and know the ‘presence’ that 
we’ve felt
that’s led us through the strife
and shared the moments that guided us
on destined road of life…..



© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Filed under Blogging, dreams, heart, Life, poetry, road

Rhythmic Senses

Rhythmic Senses


You always see her in a crowd
blending like a graveled stone
at farthest table the room’s allowed
where she sits and gazes….all alone
in stares transfixed by muted thoughts
that have strained her every will
and she appears as frozen…. in a trance-like state
her fragile look….is still.

She’s not with friends nor is she without,
but she ‘appears’ to us as one
abandoned, lost,  leaving much in doubt,
and you wonder the thoughts, she’s spun.
But appearance is often a misleading clue
and by the face, it’s hard to tell
if she’s deep in thought about something good
or about something gone to……well….

You see the pattern that’s often seen
if left to the imagination,
looking at an Amy, Rosita or Charlene
or any in the same situation?
A telltale story our minds devise
to help us pass…. our time
and the dreams we create in the interlude
serve as  rhythms in our life’s….rhyme.

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano


Filed under Blogging, dreams, Life

Bought, Borrowed, Befriended and Blessed


Bought, Borrowed, Befriended and Blessed


I guess you’d say, he loved her such
that he could feel her pain
and though he 
didn’t see her much
he always knew when rain
was pouring on her life;
covering her like a glove;
and yet she never 
wavered with her love.

They met just once when she was young
and studying hard at school
out east where, then, she lived among
staunch groups with hardened rule.
And when it came, he grazed her path
from then she always knew
that she would wait and know his love, anew.

So, when in years it came to be
the paths they took, entwined
she knew just why, as did he,
though the years had been unkind.
But it 
didn’t matter anymore;
the past took away the ‘blue’
their love’s piercing color….now the brightest hue.

There’s not a moral to grasp upon
to harness the whims of love
to give one insight to bear down on
in search we’re impatient of
Love’s hardened rule is to survive
and it hides in disguises you can hold, at best;
bought, borrowed, befriended and blessed.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under heart, Love, people, Strength

Forgive and Live

Forgive and Live


Stillness looms across the field.
The moon, not full, is bright
Silhouetted trees do yield
the pleasantness of night.
In quietness, the beauty’s shone
as a tear slips from the eye
and you drift into dream…. ‘neath the sky.

Awakened to the sound on distant track
the northbound’s coming through.
the moving lights mean she is back
and all is right and true.
Missing her has meant a lot
it’s time to tell her so
It’s time to live the only life, you know.

It’s time to do what must be done.
It’s time to love….and live
It’s time to start the distant run
stop judging and forgive
For time is fleeting; that’s for sure
so hug her tight each day
and chase the constant, nagging blues….away.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dreams, Life, Love

There Is a Place

There Is a Place


There is a place I want to go
beyond the moon and on
where time has swallowed dreams I know;
where loved ones may have gone.
And maybe I won’t find a thing
but, at least, I want to try.
I want to try one time….before I die.

And how to find this place I feel
that’s brightened by the moon.
And if I do….will I conceal
or weaken and impugn?
Or will I choose to keep it hid
so nobody’ll ever know….
this place where even heaven gets its glow.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dreams

Night Moment

Night Moment

There’s a dream we all have that comes in the night,
when our legs are so heavy, though we know they are light,
and we can’t get away in the slow motion mode
and seconds are hours and we’re ‘bout to explode,
when we wake up and dare look around.
The room is all dark; everything’s in its place.
You’re sure you’re awake as you search out your face.
But something seems wrong; something’s wrong with the space;
too groggy, the body lays down.

When the sun, in the morning, sifts in through the blind,
and you don’t want to rise…. but then change your mind,
and she’s asking you why you sat up in the night
and, at that same moment, nothing’s coming to light
and you wonder just what’s on her mind.
You head to the bathroom… as you slowly awake;
The stomach is growling, but it isn’t an ache
You remember the meal… you had late last night
while finishing the game before starting to write;
the mind-dream now gone by design.

© 2012  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dream, poetry

Dream Forest

Another fairy tale twist.

Dream Forest

Her eyes sprung wide; it was not yet light
she could not sleep and she sat upright
and swung her legs down to the floor
and tiptoed softly to the door.

Opened now, hearing nothing at all,
she dressed and left through darkened hall.
Outside she went in dark of morn’
feeling excited…..as if reborn.

Walking along toward the distant trees,
her hair moving barely in the gentle breeze;
light now breaking as she stops to stare
before entering the forest……still unaware.

Streaks, like stairs, through treetops dropped
from sunlight beams the dewdrops plopped
moistening leaves beneath her feet
stepping further into forest deep.

When younger she was forbidden to see this place
but she was bigger now wearing cottons and lace
and she wasn’t afraid of the stories she heard
like wolf and little riding hood…..how absurd.

It was cool in the forest and nothing seemed wrong
but now she was sleepy in a morning, now long
when ahead on her right was the cutest little house
and no one was about…..not even a mouse.

The porch had three rockers each different in size
but still hollering ‘hello’ she got no replies
so she sat in them all though afraid she might sleep
before meeting who lived there….. in the forest deep.

The screen door was open and she smelled something good
and saw three bowls steaming on the table of wood
that was close by the window where out she could see
if anyone would be coming that may not agree…

with her tasting the porridge that was hot to the taste
that she could not let sit there and all go to waste.
But only one bowl there was cool enough to eat
then now all she wanted was a good place to sleep.

At the top of the stairs in the room were three beds
of three different sizes with three different heads.
But the littlest bed was the best of them all
and she snuggled in deeply laying next to the wall.

She awoke to surprises, in fact, there were three
and she ran to the window to gaze out and see
the forest in the distance, smelling breakfast in the air,
now limp against the window pane in dreamlike stare.

Today was her birthday and it wasn’t a dream;
her first surprise was ‘Goldilocks’ who she loved supreme.
The second surprise was a terrarium – a “forest” galore
and three new bears of different size….stood up against the door.

To go to ‘dream’ and then wake up and know you’re back to ‘real’
and want to keep the dream alive and know again that ‘feel’
is sorrowful at first until we come to realize
how transient dreams are part of us and help fulfill our lives.

T. J. Gargano

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Filed under fairy tale

Upon A Horse of Blue

Upon A Horse of Blue

I saw you in a dream, last night,
through yonder window’s fading light.
I waved but you didn’t see me there.
I called out loud; you were unaware.

You sat upon a horse of blue.
A wing-ed horse with beauty, true.
Your blond hair flowing toward where I sat;
I couldn’t reach it through window’s slat.

I tried again to call your name.
The blue horse roared and raised his mane.
I saw a tear fall from your eye.
I wanted to catch it;  I wanted to try.

But his golden eyes caught me in stare
and held me firm so I wouldn’t dare
and I let you go into the night
through yonder window’s fading light.

I wonder where you’re off to be?
A place of beauty, I’m sure, you’ll see
like this world I live in that makes me beam
as I wait for you…… in another dream.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under dream