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 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Nicholas Fonte
We don't comprehend the end
We don't understand why we stand
We don't fulfill what we need to fill
We do radiate on our date
the world today truly has become
the global village once predicted
by McLuhan 50 years ago

it took three decades longer
than he had thought
but now we have
all real time developments at our fingertips

Trump talks to Putin and Duterte & cetera
and we know about it
right afterward thanks to his tweets
that land on our mobile phones

suicide bombs exploding
in Damascus Baghdad Gamboru Kabul
hit us on our social media right away

so does the news about a bus
that fell into a gorge
     all 65 passengers killed
     somewhere on the globe

or of the cat caught in a sewer pipe
rescued by these brave firemen

little of all of that
adds to our understanding of the universe
or might be relevant to our lives

a bit more positive reporting is in order

at best served as sensational
as the bad news
     that keeps us occupied
yet more important for our daily lives
than all this hype about
the danger and the devastation that
     possibly
     or not
may happen if
soandso does suchandsuch

at times I contemplate
if it is better to be out of touch
and not to care about the news
so very much
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Mary-Eliz
You have
without knowing
reached inside
and
touched my soul
awakening it
with urgent
pulsing
like an electrical
surge

I yearn to
connect
with you
completing
the circuit

My soul seeks
yours
for a rendezvous

to mingle
in an ethereal
embrace

to share
a repast
in the soft candlelight
of awareness
and
the sweet scent
of the roses
of incorporeal
passion

filling plates
with
the words
and
cadence

wine glasses
with
the music

of poetry


You speak
the language
of my soul

whose words are
garden
          flowers
                     unfolding
                               pathways

sojourn
                   reflection
                              struggles
              ­                             life

whose syntax
is poetry
and
song

You
more than most
have taught me
to heed
and
understand
the language

to recognize
the melody

and

to dance

its rhythm
This was written some years ago upon discovering a wonderful poet, one of my favorites, Stanley Kunitz, who was also an avid gardener. I think he was in his 90's at the time. I heard him reading a poem on NPR and I was "smitten".  I bought several of his books of poetry. The one I love best has a lot of pictures of him in his late years still working in his garden.  He died in 2006, just two months short of his 101st birthday.  He's a beautiful soul. You can see it in his face, in his garden and in his poetry!
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Lawrence Hall
Most Things End in Sorrow

The happiest marriages we’ll ever know
End in death; the unhappy marriages
Decay in cycles of disappointment
And fall apart in court on a working day

A glorious autumn ends in blue-ice winds
A favorite childhood toy is forever lost
An anticipated promotion is denied
And golden youth in hospice slips away

But morning’s cup of courage freshens hope,
And the world is optimistically green
 Apr 2018 Me Díaz
Mary-Eliz
I just posted a tribute poem to Stanley Kunitz, then went online looking at pictures of him. There was a picture of his headstone:

"He loved the earth so much
he wanted to stay forever"

[He lived to be 100 just a couple months short of his 101st birthday.]
for me
  
    ever since my mother died
    on the day spring began
    eleven years ago

my joy over the annual reburgeoning of life
also evokes the memory of death

I know
death is unique and final
     spring is eternal

but all the lovely flowers sprouting forth
always remind me of my mother’s love
of flowers and all other natural beauties
like sea shells  pine cones  precious stones …

maybe it was appropriate
    after all
for her to leave this earth
when it brought forth new life again
    bursting into renewal
as if to compensate us
for our loss
No

I will never be
What is expected
From society

But maybe

You'll still admire me
Tone deaf
Emotionally
Your infliction
Doesn't sway those
With out conscious.
And your manipulation
Doesn't sway those
With higher conscious.
Those lesser fools
Bringing cry to the feast
Who complain of their feet
Being sore on the eve
Yet they walked on them?

Beware of those who have more
Tragedy than you
At every corner
And watch how their stories of pain
Quickly become lies to refrain
Any sort of giving out of their way.

They must receive
And if you can't please
You are as needless as needs.

Don't fear desolation
It comes in waves.
You remind me of better fruit
from the  rotten tree
Flesh driven desire
And the aching want for death
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