8 minutes door to daughter

wishing them closer for awhile
now that while has arrived
in a few weeks time
8 minutes door to door
8 minutes door to daughter
in a new year
destined to be filled with surprises
rediscovering parents from a new perspective
geographically tighter
the wisdom of years they will bring
along with ailments
both still dogmatically independent
a beautiful thing
in a world they’ve watched
grow older too
more naked
more stripped of dignity
not always, but often

I hope to learn
I hope to help
as they have helped me
in more ways than
I will ever understand
in this reversal of life

five cent pump pencil

art previously published

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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

I wonder

I wonder if she would’ve been braver
had her heart outrun the difficult years
her courage once supple and new
now evaporated by decades of living

I wonder if she would have been at peace
had she found the time to look ahead
knowing the past was what got her there
and primed her for a long detailed life

I wonder if she will find time now
to admire the heavens
inhale the sunset, exhale the worry
and relax in the beauty
of an eternal sky
sunsetphoto taken yesterday while standing on my front lawn

Aged Smile

Aged Smile

art previously published

independent together

repetitive pops in the distance
rapid fire noises
hot air popper blips bring me back
to college dorm days
sucking caffeine at 3am
studying at 4
sleeping at 5
waking at 7
firecracker practice
airborne bubbling sound bytes
too feeble for thunder
the kind you visualize with hydrogen kaleidoscopes
from my porch the night sky is void of color
cheap firepower like my thoughts
July Fourth
United States Independence
always thought being independent together was interesting
Grandma Gulli was born on July Fourth
she was independent together
her husband was an angry alcoholic
she had bigger problems than putting on successful fireworks
why don’t I think of her much anymore
I remember hot air popcorn
my mom visits her mother’s grave
and remembers
it was difficult for a long while
their lives were like firecrackers
bursts of noises
screaming
popping
hollering reds and oranges, flaming yellows
crying blues wet
Grandma Gulli used to work at a paper factory
I wonder if she ever thought about setting fire to the paper
watch it crackle
maybe take away the pain
diffuse her broken heart
with smoke signals
this July Fourth
I will remember Grandma Gulli
I will remember those who would have been tried for treason
I will be independent together

eagle/Prisma

eagle/Prisma

Eagle done in 2008 – original donated to raise money for local high school (all night party)
geez, I’d like to go to an all night party;)

Doing my ‘dad’ post for my father’s b’day – early July

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY to all you DADS out there!