Women: A Poetic Impression

It is your turn! It is your time! The proof, as they say, is in the pudding! And the Master Chef Scientist is genius, Robert Lawlor! His masterful work of the shifting poles of the Earth (happening right now) is backed up by Riane Eisler’s great work, ‘The Chalice and the Blade’ and ‘The March of Folly,’ by Barbara Tuchman.

The men’s time is over, KAPUT! Too much war, greed, murder, and poverty, except for America and most of Western Civilization. Even the churches did not help very much. Hopefully you will do better ladies!

Margaret Thatcher tried and did well. But Hillary and Pelosi, NO, NO, NO! And AOC and her group? Pure evil! Get it together!

There are plenty of great ones like Erica Kirk, Melania Trump, Judge Jeanine Pirro and others. They care! Only poetry can truly define women.

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The Cure

My Aunt Katie was a great lady. Most of us have had someone in our lives or know of someone like her. She came to America

from Italy when she was twenty years old. She and her husband, Uncle John, who had been a cook in the First World War, had no children, and there was a twenty-two-year age difference between her and her youngest sibling my mother, Ida. As our grandparents had already passed on when my brother, sister, and I arrived, she became our titular

Godmother, Grandmother, and even Fairy Godmother, for she and Uncle John owned a grocery store full of a n d y and ice cream. Heavenly bliss for any five-year-old.

Some say that the greatest sermon ever given was by Buddha, who, in response to requests to know the meaning of life, simply held up a flower without saying a word. My Aunt Katie gave all of us a better sermon than the one Buddha gave. At

any given moment and whenever the moment struck her, often while cooking the most delicious breaded veal cutlets or

chicken cacciatore, with her olive-oil-garlic-smelling fingers, she would grab any one of us by the cheek and say with her

strong Sicilian accent, "Enjoy-a-life, enjoy-a-life!"

Not one of us at our young age knew what she meant, but

heck, she was the "Queen of Ice Cream &Candy", so as far as we were concerned Aunt Katie could say anything she damn well pleased and it was okay by us. Little did any of us know then that she was passing on wisdom to us on how fast life goes by and how beautiful life truly is.

And in her wisdom, to impress her message into every fiber of our beings, she went beyond even Buddha, as she included the tactile by pinching our cheeks whenever she said her

timeless words of "enjoy-a-life"-just to be absolutely sure that her message sunk in. Thank You, Aunt Katie!

MEMORY

Often the memory comes in the way Proust described it does and I
think of her and all that was between us and in that moment, with
compassion for myself and her, every woman comes to mind, the
glorious nuances of their essence, scent, movement, gaiety and
silence, their endless ongoing creation of life, their unbounded love of
birth, this wisdom they alone own, of reincarnating the eternal past
and future as they continue and continue the giving of life, and then
my longing ceases, for without doubt I know that she and she alone is
all and every woman, and each and every woman is who she is to me,
the way Proust described it is.

SWEET ANGEL

Be careful sweet angel I implore thee, as you find your way along your journey, as you search for what you need to find, be careful sweet angel for you were born amidst a suffering world that long ago denied its very own pain.

Hydras of contempt were conceived from this denial, a fear of all things mysterious was born, an eruption of projection grew in powerful circles, and the likes of you and those like you, so different in your spontaneity and joy, became inconsequential to their pronouncements.

A darkness intruded with few taking note, wings like yours cursed their routines, your insight made them look upon themselves, their reactions drew dire consequences until even the fundamental ideas you hold sacred were boxed within vaults hidden well beneath the surface.

Be aware of your limitations here for you cannot compete with the bottom tier where smiles and handshakes of sand change with expedient waves, political correctness is the only norm, and the value is the value of winning at any cost.

Such heaviness and possessions impede upon the bliss within your heart, few can hear the melody of your voice, the golden keys you hold cannot unlock the chains of an archaic testament and a fearful exactitude.

Be careful sweet angel I implore thee, for here past and future deny present, confusion is everywhere, the Pharaohs of Egypt who abhorred change still reign, within these vacuums you cannot fly, and the falcon and falconers stand ready and armed to imprison your glory.

THE PIROUETTE

<strong>From the front, back and center I know her the side view she keeps for her self the center is very rich overflowing seeking definition.</strong>

strange behavior honoring strange gods. A vital force swells the muscles. From the front back and center we explore the pleasures. Slowly slowly slowly it happens in the slow motion and she lifts her head and whispers in my ear how can we not believe in what we do not know when everything we know contains such doubt. I look at the curtains and the wind gently. The silence speaks to me, and then again, the pirouette.

From the front and back and center we know each other the side view we keep for ourselves central command loses control and two become a singularity.

Etchings in Homage to Greatness

(Dedicated to all the great people I was blessed to meet
in my life, and to all those I studied and learned from the
wisdom they had learned from people before them, and
on and on and back and back.)

1.

There was a large courthouse. A giant vulture carried me in its beak to the witness stand. The prosecutor condemned me and the jury agreed that I was guilty. There was a plea for clemency from a woman with Botticelli hair covering her naked body with its tapestry. I asked what I must do. She said, go there. I found myself within the prison cell of Nelson Mandela. Dampness enveloped me like death. The Holy Spirit entered the cell. The dampness receded, and I awoke.

2.

We were in a black hole at the end of the galaxy. Our capsule was free falling and the missile shield had crumbled. We prepared for nothingness. The Venus de Milo appeared on the computer screen. I asked her where we should go. She said outside the box. Gorbachev’s book Perestroika gave us directions for restarting the engines. The Spirit of Light entered the cabin. The engines ignited, and I awoke.

3.

It was a dinner party on the avenue. The wine flowed freely and the talk was cheap. About stocks and bonds. I went to the bathroom to take a pee. On the wall was a picture of the Pieta. I asked her what the boundaries are. She said ignorance and attachment. Mother Teresa appeared holding a dying man in her arms. They were pitiful to look at and I cried. She took me in her arms. The Spirit of Love came upon me, and I awoke.

4.

There was an operation going on. Everyone was concerned. The lights were so bright. Latex fingers probed my body. They were looking for the bug that had consumed my soul. A nurse sang the Ave Maria. Paul Simon held The Boy in the Bubble and T.S. Eliot recited The Four Quartets. I asked the surgeon to show me the way. She said you must find it through yourself. Pope John Paul II appeared before us. He asked for reconciliation and placed his shaking hands upon my body. The Spirit of Forgiveness entered my body, and I awoke.

5.

Merlin appeared out of nowhere. All else was darkness. Even the moon was black. I asked him how he had arrived. He said we are always and never there. He transformed himself into W. E. Deming and held a candle in his hand. The flame scripted the words, caveat emptor be damned. He whispered the word quality. That one word lit the entire universe. The Spirit of Truth entered the earth, and I awoke.

6.

A child was being beaten. Alice Miller, Renee Eisler, Carl Jung, and Robert Lawlor were dancing in a circle. I asked them why the world suffered. They said the suffering is the fear. Eleven million souls rose from the ashes. The ashes were drowning me. Marcel Proust appeared with Remembrance of Things Past. My Soul was cleansed, and I awoke.

7.

Mary Magdalena was guiding us. I asked her about passion. She said, passion without commitment is a blister on the soul. Pablo Picasso handed me a burning brush. It tattooed my entire body. I screamed in pain. The tattoo turned into a purple aura of hope. The scream became a lullaby, and I awoke.

8.

It was a miracle. Helen Keller could see and hear. Plato was interviewing her. He asked her what could be worse than losing one’s sight. She said losing one’s vision! In the iris of her eyes I found humility. I asked her about love. She said love is God liberating your mind, and I awoke.

9.

We were standing on a balcony listening to maidens sing lullabies to the world. Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler, John Lennon, and Yoko were having a discussion. Jacqueline Kennedy read to us from The Hero with a Thousand Faces. I asked her about the meaning of life. She said, it’s your gift to yourself in concert with Creation, and I awoke.

10.

There was a meeting going on. No, it was a parade. No, it was a symphony, yes, definitely a symphony. A symphony in a concert hall containing the whole of humanity. The conductor held a cross in one hand and a peacock feather in the other. The musicians had no score. The string section contained the martyrs, from Socrates to the Holocaust to the Africans, Indians, and Asians.

The concert began with one long note, a C chord. The trumpet section contained all the artists. In staccato they filled the C with a sonorous B flat. The trombones, sax and clarinet section were comprised of the humanists. They added a mellow A sharp. At the back of the stage stood the chorus, scientists all, chanting the Magister Ludi. The timpani group contained the thinkers, banging their drums and cymbals to the beat of the heart.

In the front rows of the hall sat the children. Behind them were the lovers. The box seats were reserved for all those who had taken the unknown highways. The balcony was filled with the revolutionaries. All the humble and poor filled the second and third tiers. Still filtering in were the searchers and seekers, some only half intent on finding their seats. At the rear, standing room only, were the codependents. The corporate interest groups mingled over cocktails in the lobby with the politicians, hardly noticing the music at all.

After the encore the composer appeared. It was God. I quaked with fear, for every sin I had ever committed was viewed by the audience. People gasped. Lightning struck my entire being. I asked Him what we must do for the future. He said, go within, and I awoke.