Tag Archives: poetry

New Hawk

Hope you all have a safe, happy weekend.  Today I present my latest original hawk….his name is ‘Coor.’

(gargano's original Prairie Hawk)

This hawk is 17″ long with a wingspan of 35″ made from 83 aluminum cans.  I’m not a big beer drinker but I have a great source for obtaining all kinds of cans…beer and soda varieties.  Cute isn’t he?   haha

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Here at the Station

It’s time to change this ‘header’ and thus, time to leave the station….change…we can’t ever stop it….so I guess we adjust and hang on…..have a cup of coffee and pie or something.

Here at the Station

Standing on the platform, looking down the track,
waiting for the ‘southbound’  to arrive,
the wind is whipping coldness down my back…..
standing on the platform, looking down the track.
I arrived here early, when all was black
to watch station life, come alive
standing on the platform, looking down the track,
waiting for the ‘southbound’  to arrive.

 

Here at the station where I’ve faithfully stood;
where the time has come to say good-bye,
dreams have staled like I knew they would,
here at the station where I’ve faithfully stood.
The gandy’s work is finally done; friends are gone for good
and it’s time for coffee and shoo-fly pie,
here at the station where I’ve faithfully stood
where the time has come to say good-bye.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under goodbyes, trains

“Who me?”

So this is February…..a little warmer than usual but okay with me.

I’ll start with kids……they walk with a bag that has no cares in it,  knowledge of only what they like, fresh, candid opinions about those things they like, with the rest of the bag full of  ‘innocence.’

And as for the  ‘innocence’   don’t try it, ’cause that’s one ‘fragrance’ grownups can’t market.  hehe

“Who, me?”

“Who me.  Are you talking to me?’

‘Yeah..I’m talking to you, little gurr..l,’ he said.

“Well, I didn’t do it…You’ve got the wrong guy.”

‘Oh, yeah?  That’s not what Zoe told me.’

“Who’s Zoe?  Ne..ver ..heard… of… her.”

‘Well, I’m going to tell your mommy.’  he said.

“Go ‘head.  See if I care….I was in this sandbox all the time.”

‘Okay.  We’ll see….we got the goods on you.’

“Who me?  Are you talking to me, man?”
“I’m Jude and I don’t do anything.”

‘Well, that’s the problem.  You spilled the milk
and didn’t clean it up and Zoe got in trouble….so there.’

“Are you talking to me?  Who are you?  I don’t know you, kid.”

‘Zoe is your twin sister…and I’m your mommy’s friend’s kid, Zak…
don’t pretend, Jude.’  You’re gonna git it’

“I’m not afraid”

‘You better be…Zoe took a picture with your mommy’s camera phone’

“oops.  Zoe’s gonna git in trouble…she’s not suppose to have mommy’s phone”
“I’m gonna tell daddy when he gets home that that’s not me and you pushed me, Zak”

‘Jude…don’t you dare!’

“Who, me?  Are you talking to me…….Zak?”

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Filed under Family, kids, young girls

Of Time We Shared Alone

I had gone to a movie, and I can’t recall its name at the moment, but it had a love theme embedded in the action, evidently, that was strong enough to ‘touch’ my feelings and when I got home, my ‘imaginary ghost writer’ put me to work and I came up with this….(that’s kind of how it works for me…maybe someday I will come up with something profound……that’s what I live for…..haha…..I can’t seem to get these to print in the style I like)

Of Time We Shared Alone

Now I know that the time is near
when you and I will be saying our good-byes.
But always please remember,
all the times we shared together,
laughing, crying……….saying that we cared.

In my heart, I will always feel
those magic moments of time we shared alone.
But now that I am going away,
remember all those special days
we held each other close and dear.

You will always be in my heart
and never will I be far away from you.
Someday, the time will come again,
we’ll laugh and cry and love, again.
Remember me for always in your heart.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under heart, Life, Love

Arrivederci

Aw, but for language.

Arrivederci

Arrivederci in Italian means good-bye.
Arrivederci  when you say it, some will cry.
The thought of losing you, makes
my lonely heart more blue,
as I think of all the good times,
now gone by.

So when the time comes when you know
you have to leave,
me, standing there with lonely thoughts
I can’t believe.
standing, hugging me, don’t say
Arrivederci…..just turn and wave and
smile and say….good-bye.

You know that when you’re gone,
every moment seems so long
and all the passing time, goes so slow.
It’s hard to think of you, without being sad and blue,
though I know you’ll soon be coming
back to me.

I know you’ll be back when the August moon
has come.
And then my waiting, aching moments
will be done.
Your flowing hair will shine as
your heart returns to mine
and we’ll never say again………arrivederci.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under Love, people, poetry

My Little Flower Girl

Such beauty there is in a field of wild flowers…..I’m sure the ‘flowers’ even sense it.

My Little Flower Girl

I saw a flower in the grass
standing over there
and oh, what pretty eyes, she had,
and oh, what pretty hair.

There were flowers everywhere
as far as I could see
but none as pretty as the one
that captivated me.

The twinkle in her petal eyes
as bright as diamonds rare.
The smile upon her petal face
something more than fair.

But oh, the pain to have to stand
and watch her every day,
to know someone will pick her up
and take her far away.

If only I’d been a flower seed
and planted by her side.
Would I’d seen her beauty or in
my blindness would it hide?

Her innocence makes me want to cry
but how happy she makes me feel.
She’s fresher than the freshest wind;
she’s something more than real.

But there’ll come a day when the trees are bent
and the leaves are all in a whirl.
I’ll say good-bye to her pretty smile
and the dream of my little flower girl.

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Filed under flowers, Love, Spring

Tess’s Death

I’ve never understood why a recruited young man or woman agrees to kill themselves while killing others in suicide bombings of a few innocent people and believe that there is a God that would agree to such tactics.  How does that ‘further’ the attraction of that religion, whatever it is.  What is gained in the ‘taking?’

 

Tess

She often met friends after school in the park
and they’d walk and they’d talk and sing like a lark
and end up in town where they’d check all the clothes
and try them all on, yet, they’d buy not one dress
and head on back home without dress……or stress.

She just turned sixteen and her world was quite free
and she loved all her friends and they all would agree
and she shared all her stories, as they too shared theirs
and they knew life was good to them, most every day
and they knew they were lucky……  in a lucky sort of way.

But the war all around them was sometimes, too near,
and the writing on the wall, at times, all too clear,
with bombs exploding nightly, and not all that far,
and she lived only blocks from the center of  town
but she still went to shop, and with a smile, not a frown.

“I’m going up to Steggers,” she called to her mom,
at the same time the terrorist was planting the bomb
in the basement, in the stairwell, where no one would see
on this busy Saturday morning ‘neath a fair sky of  blue
where the young lady terrorist, in the basement, now was through.

Tess eyed the American patrolling the street
who she met when he came to her school to speak
about the presence of soldiers and all what it meant
and she told him she was going into Steggers for a dress
and when she asked if he would go to her dance, he said ‘yes.’

Her spirits running high, she said ‘bye’ and went in
for the store opened early so the sales could begin
and she headed for the rack where she hid the red dress
and with her basket of sale items, she got in a line
to check out and get home, though she had plenty of time.

The bomb blew exactly at a quarter past ten
blowing out windows , throwing bodies and then
collapsing all quickly into a smoldering heap
and with fire trucks and local police now lending a hand
the hunt for survivors had already began.

They found her near the door with the red dress by her side
with some other things she bought; some other things she tried
and all of it was charred and wasted….. like her lifeless body
placed there dead in rubble by a young terrorist abiding her laws ,
taking Tess’s  happy outlook…and her answer to why?  Because…just because.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Some Who Drop By

There’s nothing like ‘friends’ dropping by to say ‘hello’ or say they ‘like’ something or just to give you a little friendly support….from all over the world.  My thanks and I give you this ‘dittie’.  My best to all.

Some Who Drop By

Sitting here, facing my VAIO, thinking of what to write
being clueless in my mind…..like the dimness in the light
that shines above me,  I await a fiery impulse from my brain
which has yet failed to wake up from the short hours of sleep
because, for some reason, it was the late hours I chose to keep.

My classification is ‘newb’ as this blogging all goes
and I marvel at the knowledge that each blogger knows
that have chosen to follow by ‘liking’ my stuff.
Like ‘janethorne’ in theUK– ‘ flaringfelicity,’ too
‘Eric’ and ‘meiro’ to name just a few.

There’s ‘flyingodiva’ and ‘fourwindowspress’
bloggers with posts that always impress
me and they are only a few, of quite a few more
like ‘clownponders’, ‘chicpress’ and ‘perfectafflatus’
bloggers in the mainstream that keep coming, at us.

But my day would be empty without each of these few
like ‘purplepeninneverland’ and ‘mazeaday’, who‘s new
and ‘allaboutlemon’ with her wide open posts
like others I enjoy when they come to my house
like ‘Aslan’, ‘lesleycarter’ and ‘philosophermouse.’

‘Deidraalexander’s site, and ‘novicejournal’, have the touch
that keeps me checking in, for their posts offer much
information that helps to soothe my everyday blues….
and so does ‘lonelym,’ ‘muskadel’ and ‘disseminatedthought’
keep me a going, like ‘bluesander’, ‘kitybloger’ and  stulanglaut.’

And while ‘gabrielpoetry’, ‘jhasmoments’ and ‘lindavernon’ aren’t new
they’re different from ‘aviewfromacarpark’ and ‘theanonyblogger’s’ view
and its these differences that make the world go round, and thus
it’s fun to get new bloggers like ‘vikramroy’ and ‘juliecatherine’, yesterday,
‘cause blogging makes this world seem brighter…… in every little way.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under Blogging, Friends, poetry

Brothers Forever

In August, 2001, I lost my only brother to MS, which he had battled for a few years.  He was eight years younger than me and the better side of me.  He had the traits of my father more ingrained in him and was more free with his spirit, all of which he needed in the end.

We lived far apart and cherished the moments when we were together, spending most of our time singing.

We truly miss when we have lost.  We take too much for granted and fail to hug when we have the chance…..we are all guilty and we all pay.

It is the price of living the life.   Life is a privilege beyond our imaginations and we take a lot of it for granted fated by routine.  We must guard our precious moments.  To my brother…………

Brothers……Forever

Now the time is here;
You and I must part.
Maybe in my mind, not in my heart.

You will always be
deep inside of me
laughing, joking, singing
out your part.

Brothers…..forever
Always……..together
singing the songs we’ve both sung.

Brothers……forever
Always…….together
Always, forever
in my heart.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under heart, Life, Love

Tony Mazza – Part I

Mr. Tony Mazza

Although my father’s huge family lived in an Iowa town, my father was transferred with his company to Pierre, South Dakota in the early ‘50s, where I spent ten years of my life, growing up.

In the 50s, discrimination and prejudice had not yet been held accountable and the local Indians were not allowed to drink or buy alcohol in Pierre.  This fact will become more relevant, later.

My grandfather, for reasons I won’t discuss now, settled in Iowa, changed his name, and he and grandmother had a large truck-farm, a bakery and a grocery store.  With all the kids they had, they had plenty of help to run their businesses.  They had come from Pennsylvania, where they had settled after coming over from Italy.

Due to a situation that developed in Pennsylvania, it was necessary for my grandfather to relocate faraway and Iowa was chosen to become his new home.  From that time forward, my grandfather had three bodyguards who protected him and his family.  And of course, they became “family” also, present in all the pictures, etc.  One of the bodyguards was Tony Mazza.

Now as bodyguards go, Tony didn’t fit the description; at least not as we think of bodyguards today – burly, tall, robust, serious, tough and tough-looking.  I’ll give you burly and serious and probably, tough, but he certainly wasn’t tall and robust.  But, in all fairness, that was through my eyes as a kid.

He was not much taller than me, sporting no…absolutely no teeth, always chomping down on a huge cigar, while holding a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer that he always got from the grocery store my dad and two of my uncles co-owned there in town.  He always wore a brown suit, white shirt and black tie and he wore it in the dead of winter and in the heat of the summer…..I never saw him dressed any other way and was always told that he owned no other accessories.  I had to believe that.  He never was unclean however, if you know what I mean.  He was a dapper zapper.

The grocery store was down from where my Uncle Bill lived on 3rd Avenue in an Italian neighborhood and quite often our family would be at Uncle Bill’s house where we had four cousins to play with.  I, however, liked being down at the grocery store, in the backroom where the meat was cut and the guys would sit on wooden stools and chairs, sloshing their shiny black shoes in the sawdust, that heavily covered the cement floor, telling countless stories of who knows what, always cussing, laughing, joking and sometimes, crying.  It was a good life.  It’s all gone now………it’s all gone now.

The thing about it was that no one cared that I was around;  I was sort of respected and ‘part of’ the group….well, that’s the feeling I had, anyway.  Please understand, I didn’t talk….I just sat on a little stool and listened and played in the sawdust, that did draw some reprimanding remarks from ‘all my fathers,’ at times.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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