Riding the Cyclone

cyclone milliethey say you can never go back
she did, at 79
the magic of optimism
in her breast
returning to Coney Island
for the ride of her life
a young man locked her in
brave nana, kneecaps knocking
beneath that padded bar
she didn’t look back
only forward
at the dropping parallel lines
stomach lifting steel
smiling, laughing, screaming
on this Halloween
she leaps another year to the right
considering each 365, a dazzling gift
nothing about her has changed much
her remarkable passion
her boundless spirit
why, in 80 years
the only thing that has changed
is the ticket price
her first ride cost twenty-five cents
last month, the Cyclone was twelve dollars

shy party doghappy birthday, mom
xoxo
millie at 79

he whispers amen

thank you he whispers
like an amen
the broad smile on his face
I’ve seen somewhere before
his bright marbled eyes map
world destinations traveled decades ago
both light and dark
those hands, trembling and warm
once gripped killing machines
with cool unshakable confidence
back then

they wore their brand of patriotism
like a second skin
back then

there was no doubting
now there is
and today he whispers
thank you and tips his baseball cap
to my young son
who has just held the door
for the elderly gentleman
wearing the navy blue cap with the meticulous insignia
that reads WWII, US P-51 Mustang

lone

lone

previously published, I have no fighter plane art

falling

spectacular glow against the robust purple grey sky
leaves spiraling in wind directing thin branches to bow
unreal color drenching the landscape
but what am I seeing
not glorious
scratched pencil lines and spinning circles
into ovals with broad maws and wild fur
sharp orbs and blocky nostrils
I’m hearing too many voices
the wind is a sailing eraser
the wall

Art Wall 1Art Wall 2Art Wall 3Art Wall 5Art Wall 6Art Wall 7Art Wall 8Art Wall 4RHinopaper falling like leaves
when
almost home I look up through a tree
these
these are the falling papers
this is the wind
this is what I need to remember
this is why
I have eyes
autumnsketches done for students to demo different animals…
picture taken when I returned home from subbing
while standing in my driveway looking up

blur

dancing in a deluge
freezing wet arrows pierce your body
everything blurs
could go exploring in the rain
determined to the ends of the earth
driven to the bottom of the oceans
like a wide-eyed child
searching
always searching
for a meaningful destiny
you don’t accept plain living
a grand enough purpose
even after the cold water
has cleared your vision
and washed the mud off your face
boy with green glowing eyes
wide-eyed previously published

she followed me home

the version tonight
I do not like her
the woman who came home
that one
she followed me
had the nerve to walk in my shoes
into the house
in soles not made for stomping
yelling in a voice that should be singing
she’d said
the other version, the one I like
warned me awhile ago
things might get a little ugly
like a volcano
festering stuff below the tonsils
when that one gets angry
she’s not pleasant
not even to the cute little dog
no one is safe
the only thing two extra legs buys you
when she’s in that mood
is a fast walk into a little crate
I hope when she finishes firing off all her rockets
she flattens into an autumn shadow
I want the person who entertains me
yea, the one who mostly laughs
even when it gives her smile lines

Pumpkin Sweet

Pumpkin Sweet

HoNest

nested internal thoughts
resistant to the bearer’s weight
honesty to ourselves each time
form healthy embryos
protected by truth

lies crack under pressure
less than honorable thoughts
eventually break our souls
eagleeagle done a few months ago, Tombow water color marker, Prisma pencil and a touch of white acrylic

We nearly lost the bald eagle in the 1960’s. DDT weakened shells to the point of cutting down this raptor population from 500,000 strong to a scant 1,000. Through conservation programs and legal protection the bald eagle has made a miraculous return to the US landscape. DDT was banned in 1972.
Fun Fact: The bald eagle is the only eagle unique to North America

at the beyond

Nothing is the same
All the lights are on
yet the dark is oppressive
I imagine you’re out there
Dreaming
lets me smile
I think you’re in the next room
Pretending
is a talent of mine
I miss you completely
Maybe one day
we’ll be together again
at the beyond
when I grow tired of pretending
and short
of breath

Rocky

Rocky

missing you greatly, my dear friend and companion