Heaven and earth do not meet
Within the aging brick
And fading wood
And could-be-more-vibrant glass
Of All Saints Catholic Church

Though that's what they'll tell you

So.

You want to kiss a saint
On her filthy bare feet
And **** the blood
Off her slender fingers

Leave that church
- the doors will open themselves -
And head North

Turn your gaze from the feathery clouds
And the pale sunbeams
In which you think you've spotted divinity

Consider the worms curled in death
Obscured by the heat radiating off the Texas sidewalk
Marvel at how their bodes
have dried in the shape
Of a bishop's staff

Don't pass the king
Emptied of all that was once within him
And you may be in the right place to be spoken to
By Margaret

Margaret is a ******

That's what they'll tell you

Margaret prays for you to be a mother
Margaret prays for you to find a husband
Margaret prays for a father
To give you Catholic babies

That's what they'll tell you

But my mother was born
And I was baptized
On the twentieth of July
And Margaret has taken an interest in me

Because Margaret likes to slay dragons

One childhood morning
On the way to hear one of those puerile homilies
From ignorant Alfonse
While Mary cringed in the pews
Or hateful Michael
While Phoebe rose in disgust and marched to the atrium
Margaret revealed what she had done for me

"I've done more than slay the dragons.
I've stolen your money
And you cannot afford the white gowns they told you to buy
I've melted the garish, yellow band from your finger
And burned your hand with a fiery breath
I've shredded your womb from the inside
With my wooden sword
I've freed you, baby
To love and live and leave"

But Margaret would never say such things
And Margaret would never speak to me

That's what they'll tell you

margaret

Langit ang nagbigay biyaya nang ambon ay dinilig
Ang aking hiling sa panginoon ay biglang nadinig
Pinadala ang anghel na sa mundo ko’y yayanig
Tinawag ng ng kanyang tinig, at Napatulala sa mga Titig

Maari bang malaman ang yong pakay sa akin
Kung ikaw ba ay pasakit at tuluyan na akong wawasakin?
Laging kong tanong kung ano ba ang dapat kong gawin
Kung ang kahulugan mo ay kabiguan patuloy pa ba kitang iibigin?

Nagtatanong kay Bathala, Paano ko ba mapapaliwanag ang  hiwaga
Nitong pagmamahal na kung bakit sa puso kumapit ka ng kusa
Ako’y nagtataka’t di maka paniwala Bakit ito ang yong ginawa
Sa bigay **** biyaya, Ano ba ang kasalanan ko  para isinumpa

Gaano ba kita pinapahalagahan? Alam mo ba ang dahilan?
Hiling ko lang ay sanay iyong maunawaan itong nararamdaman
Kaya ang paliwanag ko ay simple nalang
Masikip dito sa loob ko, kaya ang kasya ay ikaw lang

Alaalang bitbit pano ko makakalimutan
Kung Sa puso koy nakaukit  ang yong pangalan
Ibinalot ng tatag ng loob para ika’y ipaglalaban
Di kita hahayaang lumuha lagi kang aalagaan.

Nagaabang ng sasakyan para dalhin sa langit, iwan ang mundo
Nakikiusap Pagbigyan sana Hiling makamit, Anghel na sundo
Saan nga ba tayo patungo? Byaheng langit sa impyerno,
Sa isipan kong magulo, Kasinungalingan ka ba o Totoo?

Linalaro sa panaginip ang dakilang pagsuyo
Tuluyang Hinamon Ang matapang na puso
Sayo napalapit at ayaw nang lumayo
Ang silakbo ay di na kaya, kayang isuko

kahit ano dito sa lupain ay handa kong ialay
Pagkat ang langit sa akin ay una mo nang binigay
Ang halaga mo sa akin ay Walang katumbas na materyal
Dahil Di kayang sukatin kung gano kita kamahal

Today former doctor John Becker was loving his life with Chris Connor even if they weren’t married or had kids but they always were very friendly with each other but one day John was getting voices in his head from all the people he yelled at when he was a doctor and John wanted to quit his job and go around the USA to escape his voices but Chris told him that if he did that he would regret it but John wasn’t wanting to listen to her because his head was going crazy
And later that day Reggie rang John saying that bob visited her saying he was happy about being at the hockey with him and hearing that made Reggie mad and she was yelling at John on the phone making John worried about where his life was heading hearing fake voices and getting old friends ringing him up upset with him and this made John want to visit his blind best friend jake in his new home in baltimore but when he rang him up jake said he was married with 2 kids and they know nothing about his old life and that is how Jake wanted to keep it.
John got very angry with jake saying I helped you a lot back in the early 2000s late 1990s and jake said yeah I know but you don’t understand this woman doesn’t understand anyone describing the people I was with back then and John said, come on give me a break I helped you now you can help me and jake said ok come to Baltimore but this isn’t a way to turn back the clock and John said goodbye and hung up the phone and said to Chris that he is going to Baltimore to visit jake and Chris started to get upset saying you just want to turn back the clock to back in Those days and John said I am hearing voices and I need to clear my head and Chris said how about I come with you it would be great to catch up and John said fine I guess and suddenly John planned to quit his job at the doctors office leaving Margaret and Linda who are still working there very much in dismay but after thinking about it Linda wanted to retire anyway and move to Los Angeles to meet a former boyfriend and Margaret was starting to feel lonely despite John not leaving yet because with Lewis dead she felt depressed and asked John and Chris if she can join their road trip much to Johns dismay but after saying no in usual John becker fashion he finally gave in and said I will pick you up tomorrow at 7 am and Chris said Margaret is lonely and depressed and could be too depressed for us but John said, she has been working for me for a long time now and she lost her husband and besides it would be good for Jake to see the old gang again and Chris went into the diner to ask hector if it will be alright if they close the diner or sell the diner and hector said well I was looking for somewhere to go in the future but why now and Chris said me and John and Margaret are going to visit Jake and his kids and hector said Jake has kids now, I would like to see him even if he can’t see me and Chris said maybe just let me John and Margaret go because you know johns car and hector said I will fly there where does he live and Chris said ‘Baltimore’ and hector I was always wanting to go there, so let’s go and I would like to see how the blind father is going anyway and when Chris told John that hector is going to fly there John did his usual Becker rage but after that he said ok as long as he doesn’t want a lift and John was suddenly hearing the voice of the journalist in the diner who accused him for being racist and he said ok let’s go to Baltimore and when they got to Baltimore after nearly crashing into a few cars who flipped him off they made it to Jakes house and Kylie who was 6 and Samuel who was 4 answered the door and Samuel said hi are you the angry man and after hearing that John was hearing the voice of Sandra who wrote that book referring him to the angry man and then Jake came in and said hi john
It has been a long time and then he heard Chris and margaret’s voices and said I didn’t expect a reunion and John said Chris is my friend, we live together and Margaret lost Lewis 2 years ago and hector is coming here soon by plane and Jake introduced his wife to his old friends and he said
Judy, this is my friends from the past and Judy said, hi Jake has told us so much about you, in that I say he told us nothing about you and Jake said there is one more coming by plane but it is good to have a reunion and Judy said maybe for you but not for me and John remembered his first dinner party with the gang when Chris and him first met and after that hector turned up and said, it is a pleasure to see you Jake unfortunately you can’t see me and Judy Samuel and Kylie went off to bed and Judy said I hope you guys have accomodation because this house is too small and John said I used to sleep on the couch in front of the tv
So I am fine but Judy said no find other accomodation and see you tomorrow or tonight for dinner, Jake said and at the end John and Chris were talking to each other loving seeing Jake and his new family for the first time and Margaret and hector were depressed together
Margaret because she misses Lewis
And I have no idea why hector is depressed but he wasn’t having *** so that could be the reason

Merry Margaret
  As midsummer flower,
  Gentle as falcon
  Or hawk of the tower:
With solace and gladness,
Much mirth and no madness,
All good and no badness;
    So joyously,
    So maidenly,
    So womanly
    Her demeaning
    In every thing,
    Far, far passing
    That I can indite,
    Or suffice to write
  Of Merry Margaret
  As midsummer flower,
  Gentle as falcon
  Or hawk of the tower.
  As patient and still
  And as full of good will
  As fair Isaphill,
  Coliander,
  Sweet pomander,
  Good Cassander;
  Steadfast of thought,
  Well made, well wrought,
  Far may be sought,
  Ere that ye can find
  So courteous, so kind
  As merry Margaret,
  This midsummer flower,
  Gentle as falcon
  Or hawk of the tower.

Margaret was more than a family friend;
She also taught me to play the piano.
Once in while she'd have me sing,
When I was still a kid soprano.

I wasn't a gifted piano player.
In fact, I was far from it.
And the stage fright at recitals:
I never could overcome it.

I never practiced as much as I should have,
Which was obvious in my playing.
I'd never become a concert pianist.
That, of course, went without saying.

Yet Margaret never scolded me
Whenever I came unprepared
To my weekly piano lesson--
A little nervous, a little scared.

I would play an exercise
And utterly butcher the innocent piece.
"That one needs a little more work,"
She'd say. Then my fears would cease.

I studied with her for many years--
From childhood through my early teens.
My lessons were not a means to an end;
The end was entirely the means.

Spending time on the piano bench
With Margaret on a chair by my side
Is ingrained in my heart:
Time spent with my mentor and guide.

Instilling the love of music in me,
She was definitely my muse.
Music is a life-changing gift--
A blessing I hope never to lose.

I learned that life can bring happiness,
But also times of sadness and loss.
Margaret developed a brain tumor.
There'd be a river of sorrow to cross.

How could such a wonderful person--
And talented, too--capitulate
To illness? Then I faced the truth:
Cancer doesn't discriminate.

When Margaret died, to me all music
Sounded like a dolorous dirge.
But with time, the glorious sounds
Slowly began to reemerge.

She had taught me so much more
Than how to plunk on piano keys.
How sad it would be if ever the wondrous
Notes faded from our memories.

Music's a powerful force in our lives.
Without it I wonder where we would be.
There's one thing that I know for certain:
Margaret will always be music to me.

- by Bob B

Eli Bevier woke that morning at the crack of dawn, in the most distant state. The bed in which he slept wasn't of much comfort as he was used to his own bed. Eli was at a Military Hospital in Paris, he was discharged due to severe injuries he sustained in France during World War II, where he would spend the next six months recuperating. Though he tried to find comfort there, nothing really distracted his mind from thoughts of the army and what was happening in the world. Towards the end of his stay, he would often go on strolls to the nearby shops and offices to mingle and see what was of interest.
However, the one thing that kept a smile on his face was one of the nurses he had met while at the hospital. He thought she was elegant, funny, and charming as she had a way with her words. She was really kind and always tried to strike up a conversation as much as she could with him but was always sort of busy and they were never formally introduced. They did however write letters to each other, as he had in future relationships, she had told him that her grandparent’s farm was in the same city as Eli’s parent’s house. He loved that because he knew he could have a chance to wait for her and they could continue and meet once they both are sent home.
This never happened though as he later received word that the hospital in which the nurse was stationed in was hit by an enemy fire and bombed. He hated never knowing what could have been with the nurse. The hurt was so true but he knew life went on and as so he should too. When he would go back and recall this memory in later years, he would often feel bad at the situation but always remembered what his father had once said to him as a child, “There is never any use in crying over spilled milk.”

One evening he was walking past an old style shop, in which he saw the most extremely magnificent camera. At that time Camera’s were just beginning to dawn upon the world and develop into a greater extent. The shop keeper’s daughter, Margaret Wilkins, noticed him right away and worked up the courage to come over and talk to him. He on the other hand was oblivious to the fact that she had noticed him due largely in part to him being marveled by the camera and the items in the store. When he turned and saw Margaret approaching him, he felt a feeling.
That feeling we have all felt at one point or another. Stirring up inside as if you were some sort of melting ***, You know the feel. When you see a most beautiful and wonderful girl and you know that within you lies a special place in which only she can reside and your heart skips a beat. He didn't know what this feeling was, but one thing he was certain of was that he liked it. He knew that he had to think of something quick but his mind went blank and could not produce the slightest idea. “Hello there Welcome, May I help you in any way?” said Margaret.
But Eli just gazed at her as he tried to get a word out of his mouth but ended up getting lost in her gorgeous eyes. Again she asked “Is everything okay, sir? Do you need any assistance?” at which point Eli came to from his trance-like state and looking at the camera he was holding said “I apologize for being a goof just now, It’s just that you have such a wonderful eyes, I can only wonder as to the type of person you are, great I’m sure. Anyway, I’m Eli. Eli Bevier. I’m really interested in these items you have for sale. “Especially this camera.” he stated as Margaret walked over to his table and overlooked the camera, “It’s quite alright and thank you for the delightful compliment. Yes, as you can see we stock a fine selection of old world items and antiques. I myself fancy photography.” To which he replied “Is that a fact? You’re kidding! It’s apparent that we share at least that in common! Do you own any yourself?” he said as Margaret took the item over to the register and rang up the price.
“A couple, there’s this one that I have always wanted to get but haven’t gotten the chance, It was called the ‘Columbia Optical Co, Pecto 1’ it’s a neat little contraption. It’s really nifty it’s got a great lens and it’s just the perfect size for me”. “Thank you, you seem very kind, I hope to see you again sometime. I have an idea! May I have your address so I can maybe write to you? I might be stationed at different places so I might not get many chances to come back here.” He stated as he collected his things. “Why, thank you. You’re so kind yourself. Yes, that would be quite alright.” She wrote down her address and handed it to Eli. “Well I guess this is my cue. Bonsoir Mademoiselle!” he said and hurried along back to the hospital for he knew it was getting late and it would close its doors soon.
Two nights later, on the evening of the ninth of may, News had reached the hospital which said Eli was discharged and was going to be sent home immediately to which he took kindly to the news as he personally felt he wasn't ready for all that war going on. He had caught a flight back home to California early the next morning and was home by the end of that week. He was overcome with emotions when he returned to his life. His parents were proud of his achievements and for his service. Over the next few weeks, Eli did nothing but devote a majority of his time in job seeking, at first he didn't seem to have much luck as it was a time of despair for his country. The economy was barely beginning to make a recovery from the devastation and the wide-scale impact that the stock crash had left. He managed through it all by always remembering to write and send Margaret letters and cards. He enjoyed their talk’s, they would send poems as well. He soon found himself missing the woman so much, since she lived in France, he often contemplated re-joining the service. All the while the war still bombarding cites across the ocean and the globe itself, civilians were dying at a much more rapid pace as well as soldiers and enemy troops. Day and night the soldiers were on guard as many attacks would come without warning.  Back home, not finding much luck with work, he decided to pursue the army once again. He was accepted to serve again, and was sent to Spain for a brief period of time, after which he made his way back to Paris in an elaborate effort to track down the old style nostalgia shop and see Margaret. It was tough but Eli managed to find her and they met up on more than a few occasions, he had rented out a flat in the nearby neighborhood. The next few months, they met up and talked, and went out and just spent time talking among each other. By this time it was 1944 and the war was just about done. The young couple had made plans to stay in France and marrying, raise a family. He loved the idea. He couldn't wait to get out of the war and begin a new with the woman he loved. And as fairy tales go, they stayed put and eventually settled down having two children and owning various business and even a farm. He loved the decision he made and the person he chose to love, he couldn't have had it any other way.

The Lord has smiled on your years
It was the Holy Spirit that continues to help you preserver
As God is always near
There were times you said enough is enough
But Mother ***, the Lord responded, I have added more years to your life
You have earned the years well
Your every footstep of pure confidence, everyone can tell
This Birthday wish is to motivate you to carry on
The idea is to remain strong
You have given me plenty of advice
As your Nephew, I never had to think twice
Your encouragement was like the fragrance of spice
I love you Dearly Aunt Margaret
But it is your humor accompanied with your Faith that truly instills in me
Your personality is the spread of salvation
It’s not a wonder, but an indication
Happy Birthday Aunt Margaret and long may you live
Continue the inspiration and smile that you give
You live your life to strive
Yet your wisdom surpasses even the number five
You are an Aunt of no nonsense and jive
An Aunt aiming for Heaven’s glory
Enough said, as this is your Nephew’s story
That’s my Aunt Margaret, a Mother and Grandmother to some, but an Aunt who will always be number one.

As it fell out on a long summer's day,
  Two lovers they sat on a hill;
They sat together that long summer's day,
  And could not talk their fill.

"I see no harm by you, Margarèt,
  And you see none by mee;
Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock
  A rich wedding you shall see."

Fair Margaret sat in her bower-windòw,
  Combing her yellow hair;
There she spyed sweet William and his bride,
  As they were a riding near.

Then down she layd her ivory combe,
  And braided her hair in twain:
She went alive out of her bower,
  But ne'er came alive in't again.

When day was gone, and night was come,
  And all men fast asleep,
Then came the spirit of Fair Marg'ret,
  And stood at William's feet.

"Are you awake, sweet William?" shee said,
  "Or, sweet William, are you asleep?
God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,
  And me of my winding sheet."

When day was come, and night was gone,
  And all men wak'd from sleep,
Sweet William to his lady sayd,
  "My dear, I have cause to weep.

"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladyè,
  Such dreames are never good:
I dreamt my bower was full of red 'wine,'
  And my bride-bed full of blood."

"Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured sir,
  They never do prove good;
To dream thy bower was full of red 'wine,'
  And thy bride-bed full of blood."

He called up his merry men all,
  By one, by two, and by three;
Saying, "I'll away to fair Marg'ret's bower,
  By the leave of my ladiè."

And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower,
  He knocked at the ring;
And who so ready as her seven brethrèn
  To let sweet William in.

Then he turned up the covering-sheet;
  "Pray let me see the dead;
Methinks she looks all pale and wan.
  She hath lost her cherry red.

"I'll do more for thee, Margarèt,
  Than any of thy kin:
For I will kiss thy pale wan lips,
  Though a smile I cannot win."

With that bespake the seven brethrèn,
  Making most piteous mone,
"You may go kiss your jolly brown bride,
  And let our sister alone."

"If I do kiss my jolly brown bride,
  I do but what is right;
I ne'er made a vow to yonder poor corpse,
  By day, nor yet by night.

"Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,
  Deal on your cake and your wine:
For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day,
  Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine."

Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day,
  Sweet William dyed the morrow:
Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love,
  Sweet William dyed for sorrow.

Margaret was buryed in the lower chancèl,
  And William in the higher:
Out of her brest there sprang a rose,
  And out of his a briar.

They grew till they grew unto the church top,
  And then they could grow no higher;
And there they tyed in a true lover's knot,
  Which made all the people admire.

Then came the clerk of the parish,
  As you the truth shall hear,
And by misfortune cut them down,
  Or they had now been there.

John O’Sullivan was an electrical engineer for Consolidated Edison for Forty years. He drove himself and his staff hard, and took pride in the smooth operation of his substation on the lower East side of Manhattan.  When a man like John, who proudly self-identified as a type “A” personality, decides to take a break it so often proves to be a serious if not fatal mistake.

In the summer of 2007, my cousin John took his wife, Margaret, on a rare vacation out of the country to the sun swept beaches of Aruba.  While a beach vacation was perfect for Margaret, who loved nothing better than to lounge in the sun reading her book, it was a form of physical and mental torture for her husband.  He grew restless lying beside her in the hot midwinter sun as his pasty white skin turned a robust red despite his constant application of sunscreen.

I will never be sure what precipitated John’s near fatal stroke on that vacation trip. It may have been a combination of too much alcohol and too much sun. It is even possible that he had mixed up his daily medications.  All I know is that when my cousin was air lifted to a State side hospital, he was suffering the consequences of a severe brain damaging event.

When I saw John in the hospital, I could see that he had lost most of the use of the right side of his body and that he was going to be wheelchair bound for the rest of his life. While he certainly recognized me and tried to smile and communicate as best he could with gestures and a wave of his hand he had lost nearly all his power of speech.

My college educated, urbane sophisticated cousin’s vocabulary was very much diminished by the cerebral accident and now consisted of one word: “Bang”. He made the most of his one word personal dictionary. He could, by variation in tone and inflection, make his one word sound like a greeting, a farewell, a warning, a curse or a need for intention.

The word “bang” could express a terrible wellspring of frustration.  John had spent most of his life in a position of command, first as a Marine noncom,, then as the chief Engineer who ran the substation that powered the lower part of Manhattan. Words, to him, were as vital as eyes were to an artist, ears to an artist or taste buds to a gourmoo.

Locked inside my cousin was the person we had formerly known. He was not like an Alzheimer’s victim whose mind had staged a gradual retreat from his body. Rather, I am convinced, he was being held prisoner within the folds of his damaged Parietal lobe.

From the first, there has been no question that he would never set foot in his old offices on E 14th Street again.  There could be no grand retirement party, just a quiet filing of his papers and the first payments from his retirement plan.  These were sufficient, along with his other investments, to provide him and his wife with a modest, comfortable retirement.  If not for the crash that swept the stock market in 2008, his stocks would have been sufficient to permit a healthy cousin John and his wife to tour the world. Now, in the shadow of the great recession, his remaining capital paid for the home health aides and medications that maintained his precarious existence.

Margaret passed on late in 2011, a problem with her heart, the attending physician said. I saw Cousin John at her wake, the chief mourner unable to express his grief.  I took his good hand and expressed my fellow feeling for his loss. My poor words of condolence were inadequate but he gave my hand a gentle squeeze and whispered “bang” which told me he understood. It was a gentle voice from somewhere out on the edge of sadness.

With Margaret gone, the primary responsibility for John’s care was taken over by his daughter Megan and her husband.  The family sold off the big old house in Yorkville and John moved in with Megan’s family in Pelham.  There his pension and savings paid for 24/7 nursing care and a physical therapist. It must have been a source of humiliation for this proud man, a Marine veteran of  the 26th Marine Battalion  who had  fought at Khe Sanh, to be laid upon a table and have his limbs moved by others to maintain their muscle tone in vain attempts  to retrain his surviving brain.

I last saw my cousin at the Fourth of July family picnic.  He had good color and displayed a healthy appetite. He really enjoyed the fireworks display on the East River. He said “Bang” repeatedly, with all the enthusiasm of a young child.

I got the sad news about John the day after Hurricane Sandy struck the New York area.  My cousin Megan was understandably upset and was blaming herself for allowing her father to watch the news on T.V.  He had become visibly agitated when Eyewitness news showed the Con Edison plant of E14th Street exploding and the lower half of Manhattan plunging into darkness. Megan said that Dad screamed “BANG” in a tortured voice, then slumped back into his chair and was gone.

I never did get to the services for Cousin John.  My own house was without power and heat and the gas in my tank was too dangerously low to risk the trip in those days immediately following the storm. I still think of my late cousin often, and when I do I toss a bootless prayer for him into the winds of Eternity. The substation on E. 14th has been repaired; The damaged homes ripped down or rebuilt and the reminders of the storm grow fewer and fewer like the surface of the sea grown calm in the wake of the storm.