bella Carmella

when I mock sing
Italian opera
I think of you
your voice
gorgeous and liquid
transcends she does
her bella Carmella voice
her fantastic smile
the young life in those enchanted eyes
out glittering the sparkly attire she enjoys wearing
brighter still the personality beneath those bedazzled fabrics
effervescent in style
in life
spirited as a child
loving 
genuine embraces
warmer than any Paul Bunyan’s giant arms could offer

endlessly enchanted am I
of you
your zeal, your zest
passion beyond anything I might ever acquire
but continually strive for
because you are relentless
in your drive for motion
learning
learned
stunning in beauty
still
out, in and all about
and when I mock sing
Italian opera
this year
I will do so in Italian
the language of my ancestors
I’m enrolling in
bella Carmella’s autumn Italian class
for beginners
ready am I to learn
from the most fabulous woman
in my world

I adore you
mother of mine
xoxo
millie at 79Carmella, 80 years of age pictured here

heaven or hell

it’s probably a big mistake to be pressing these keys right now
there are so many things pressing inside my chest
is it possible to come out of this
as one person with one dream
when everything leading up to the dream is fantasy
the impressionists began as an anonymous group
maybe I could be unknown
a founding member of the “what the hell” group
we could laugh and never care
about anything until we have to
and at that point we’d only need worry about two options
no more than that
heaven or hell
I’d simply select
which ever one has the best wine list
and maybe a tattoo parlor

Angel Cone

no curtain call

we weren’t destined to meet
a black bottle, a few flowery touches and
cold cubes that mimicked hot dice
rolled a bet with just enough scratch
for a room with bad lighting
our frantic hands
stripped away more than labels
our hungry mouths
fashioned words on stained cotton
our entwined legs
beat on dark motel velvet
but a new day’s integrity

revealed our imperfect forms
stale breath buried any lingering hopes  

you were in it for the quick sale
I was in it for the everlasting bargain
we were at best
a performance piece
with no curtain call

swirl skating

swirl skating

of something more

this has to be something more than the dish
serving the meat my mother so tenderly cooked for us
after being on her feet all day
something more than my dad telling us his ice truck story
and how he began work at seven when he believed Staten Island was Italy
this has to be something more than my daughter
not yet realizing just how beautiful she is
or my son who embodies the compassion of a soul lived
much older than his fifteen years
or a husband who supports my artistic demons
this has to be something more than collecting these memories
like paperclips in a box and storing them
this has to be something more than an appreciation
of life
this has to be love and living each moment
of that expression

Max and Caroline

Max and Caroline

I hope you all had a wondrous weekend

faith and a full cup

I believe in quiet miracles of love
selflessness of the human heart
the breadth of compassion
the faith of Heaven above
tucked in floating clouds
and the people below
colors of rainbows
both on this side
and the other
I believe
one day
we will

fully realize
our humanity
and peace
will settle
across the land

duck apple
“…Faith is believing in something when commonsense tells you not to…”
–from the movie, Miracle on 34th Street

To those who celebrate, Happy Easter
To those who don’t, have a lovely weekend

art titled, “Friends” – created at nine years of age, when I had much shorter hair and much longer sleeps 😉

tomorrow…

Sad Eyes/Prisma

I ache for something
what could it possibly be
I have so much
but I ache
still
there in my soul
a pinch
reaches out for my heart
straight up to the brain
then
out it spills
landing
here
the ache
it’s still there
in here

these words didn’t do it either
guess I’ll have to try again
tomorrow…

 

oatmeal domination

somewhere in the universe
beastly animatronic appendages
dragging empty buckets the size of blue whales
scoop up wild oats more numerous than grains of sand
they dump these omnipotent hauls 
into two monumental receptacles
the first –
is a sweet, crunchy place decorated in swirly G’s
where smells of cinnamon and dehydrated fruits abound

the second – mind you,
casts a far more intimidating shadow
it is a dark, mysterious warehouse
where rancid pigment and gooey binder can be sniffed for miles
it is deep within the bowels of this cloaked place
that all institutional paint is manufactured
and the nefarious beings behind this demon depository 
have but one scheme in mind
oatmeal domination

these ill-natured possessors will not rest
until the interior of every hospital, recovery outpost and learning facility
has been impossibly plastered in their colorless aberration
depressing, hideous, stomach-churning
oatmeal paint
Karole in St Luketen-minute sketch while my mother-in-law slept in hospital bed yesterday
she survived cancer number 4 – a tumor was removed from her bladder, all seems well
she is home now happy, drinking lots of water and enjoying her colorful walls filled with beautiful things
those oatmeal-colored hospital walls are a thing of the past
but her care – doctors, nurses and all involved – was fantastic – wonderful people

for my cousin

each day her spirit leaps out
from the mirror
into your warm breast
she is there
ever present in those generous eyes of yours
her love of life and family
her passion for art and laughing
undeniable
there is no missing her presence
in your reflection
a smile so deeply connected
even death
cannot hold it captive
lenore and toni anneMy spirited Aunt Lenore and her lovely daughter, Toni Anne pictured here in 1985
Toni Anne’s daughter’s wedding is fast approaching
Lenore would have been front, center and beaming with wedding preparations for her granddaughter, Victoria
Lenore passed away seven years ago after losing a brave battle to cancer

…for my beautiful cousin, Toni Anne who is missing her mom more than ever…

 

party on, Nina

those eyes still haunt me
huge echoing eyes
and that small painful smile
you had so many other smiles
why is it the small one I remember
and the effort you took to make it
just for me
if I focus, I can see the bright smiles
your black shining eyes, icing on the cake
back when you were healthy
before life decided what it wanted to do with you
as it will all of us
God, I miss you still
Glenn Miller helps
singing and swinging up there on a cloud of pasta
and chicken soup with tiny meatballs
party on, Nina
party on

My Charlie

My Charlie

Charlie was a great pink stuffed dog that Nina gave me many Christmases ago…