Category: poetry

a month ago our dear friends glen and gino got married … i wrote this for the occasion and was honored to be asked to read it at the wedding …

                                                              wonderful men

glen and gino
gino and glen
are two of the most
wonderful men
and i remember way back when
they became a couple

 that was almost twenty years ago
and now they’re getting married
how i wish that all could know
the history they’ve carried
these oh so generous
and giving guys
who’ve weathered the whys
and wherefores of a long relationship
with its glorious highs
and transcended lows
this is how a true love goes
and grows
and grows

they’re meant to travel side by side
this ceremony might lack a bride
but not loads of love
good will
or history
why anyone would deny them this
joyful day
communal bliss
is much more than a mystery 

how i wish the biased others
could be here now
(not really
but as metaphor)
to see how long love can endure
can soldier on
can smooth the way
to one special wedding day

i’m guessing
that when glen and gino
each came to understand
he was gay
neither could ever
but ever
have imagined a day
they’d be standing
in front of family and friends
publicly cementing their impressive bond
that idea would not have dawned
on them
or any of us
of a certain age

we need to page backand recall
how far the arc of history
has bent toward justice
in a very short time
at least as arcs of history go
and though we know
that many out there
are repulsed by the idea
that this is going on
they will soon be history
they will soon be gone

in the meantime
we revel
in this special love 
in gratitude
admiration
and great esteem
for this well-found match
this tested team
composed of these two
wonderful men
glen and gino
gino and glen

a year ago i was in south dakota with one of my closest friends for many, many years — rita mayer … she had a rare form of leukemia and had had a stroke a week before i arrived … i was there for 5 days, mostly watching her sleep … she was in great pain and when she died the day after i returned home, it was a relief to know she wasn't feeling that anymore … the experience was extraordinary — especially the bond which grew between terry (rita's and my long-time friend) and becky (rita's good friend from san antonio) … they were her real care-givers at the end and i tried to make myself useful … rita and i shared a lovely moment when i had to leave for the airport and say good-bye …

(for rita)

the day you died
i didn’t know
what to do with my self
how would it now be defined
without our shared history
informing it
and our frequent phone calls
supplying your incisive perspective
on what my self was
and is
and could be?

and after the awful end
of your self
in its earthly form
flooded with pain
where it wasn’t frozen by stroke
unable to articulate
the simplest of thoughts
when it had delivered
consistently complex ideas
so eloquently
what was the meaning
of self at all
when you were no longer yours?

no
i didn’t know
what to do
with my sorry self
that day you died
so i tried
putting it to work
desultory attempts
to clean the house
answer email
or address some future issue
when everything
was the past
and how we shared it

each new day
proves to be an education
surprises often opening my mind
hardships can lead to revelation
bringing insight
where i was blind
i hope to always
have a thirst for knowledge
and a hunger
for what might edify
i want to know
what can’t be taught in college
and keep learning
till the day i die

if i stay loose
and if i try
i might learn something
on the day that i die

it may not sound cool
but i always loved school
new ideas
could electrify my mind
now each day
is a quiz
about love
about biz
and making sense
of the homework assigned

if i keep striving
for illumination
if i keep open
to new stimuli
if i keep searching
for new inspiration
i might learn something
on the day that i die

i shouldn’t think so much about money
but it’s always at the back of my mind
how much did this cost?
how much have we lost?
where’s more of it that we can find?

i know that money isn’t the answer
but it consumes a lot of my thought
more dough would be nice
how high is the price?
should we have sold instead of bought?

 the earnings come in
and the payments go out
but the struggle seems to stay the same
splurging when there’s more
scrimping when there’s less
trying to remain in the game

i dream of having oodles of money
though those who do don’t seem more content
if i had it i’d share
at least what i could spare
before my better nature was spent

i do obsess the most about money
of anything that troubles my head
why is there this drought?
what if it runs out?
will it last until i’m dead?

i shouldn’t think so much about money
i know i’m kind of stuck in that rut
through the ebbs and flows
even when it grows
money is a pain in my butt

i can be bundled for tundra
thermals and parka
muffler and mukluks
thick socks and gloves
all of it warming
me to the bone
but i feel naked
without my phone

or dressed to the nines
for a party
tuxedo and cumberbund
cufflinks and studs
wearing the finest of threads
that i own
but i still feel naked
without my phone

my phone is so smart
we’re very well-matched
is there a way
i could have it attached
to me permanently
so i’ll never be heard
to say, “where did i leave it?”
or have to make efforts
to go and retrieve it?

i can wear business drag
suit it up sharply
like the best scalawag
trench coat and wing tips
button down collar
and four in hand tie
jacket and slacks
an executive clone
but i feel naked
without my phone

my mobile’s become
essential attire
more than accessory
or a toy to acquire
it keeps me connected
to e-mail and news
websites and widgets
and googleearth views
its camera is great
for catching a shot
or streamlining video
of some lancelot

oh and people
of course!
i almost forgot
talking or texting
friends or relations
is one of my hand-held’s
best applications

i can dress up
or i can dress down
ragged old jeans
or chic couture gown
but don’t take my picture
if i’m out alone
i feel naked
without my phone