Living Memory: Poems from Rome

Lisa Maraventano

© 2025 Lisa Maraventano. All rights reserved.

Living Memory

Poems from Rome

Lisa Maraventano

To SS

Contents

Third Energy

I am here
Franco
Saudela
This is the year
No no e no
Second Chance
Stretch Marks
Asino and Cow
Almost There
Upon Finding “A Song for Bugs”
Holding My Breath
Taxi Rome
Boxes
Behind All The Masks

Things We Don’t Believe In

If You Were Bad
Bills
Hell Yeah
Love brought me here
Next Step
To Make Whole
Asino
Confession
The Union of Souls
Editing Myself
Clark Street, Part One
Clark Street, Part Two
Clark Street, Part Three
Music or
Tzadik
Sentient
Last Day in Virgo

Like Being Happy

The Maiko and Me
December Poems
Underneath My Clothes
Puzzles
Kámīnos
The Cow is Dead
Sono Pazzi Questi Romani
I will go
Rome
La Padrona Divina
Last Seen
The Deepest Part

Third Energy

1. I am here

I am here to take part
In the bang your own drum circle
where we make our own rhythms
that transform from cacophony to symphony

We start to play off each other

Listening

Listening

Finding what is not there

That is ours to contribute to the beautiful noise
We are all making with each heartbeat

2. Franco

I: Prelude with Response

I wait
I am an idiot
For a text that doesn’t come
I am an idiot
For a man to love me
I am an idiot
For a man to love
I am an idiot
I have everything
I am an idiot
I have nothing
I am an idiot
Alone
I am an idiot
In a crowd
I am an idiot
Fingers ready to create the world
I am an idiot
That God speaks through me
But I am an idiot

I don’t do I don’t listen I don’t see
I seek my own way not His
I turn my back on Him
I am an idiot

Destined to be dust
Forgotten by even the wind.

II: Verse

Moderate success
I am a real person.
I don’t pretend to be perfect anymore.
I drink beer, smoke cigarettes.
I can ride a horse.
I have four children and a husband. I live alone.
I have written fourteen books and sold maybe fourteen copies
I know some Spanish French and Italian
But can’t carry on a meaningful conversation in any of them
I’ve never had my own kitchen
I give until I have nothing
Empty
Of all except the past.
I get up and follow my routine
I craft words into stories from ideas
And hope that is enough to stay alive
But all writers are dead and all readers are alive
And nothing can save us from being ourselves.

III: Bridge

Hometown
Sacramento
Drive and drive
Get nowhere

IV: Chorus

I was almost tough and weak enough to take it
Every time I was happy being knocked down
But then I earned that smile
From a tough old stranger
And decided I didn’t want to be hurt anymore,
That I was strong enough to leave.

3. Saudela

No one made her come out
except me
Reaction to stress perhaps
The digging up, excavation of the memory

Interesting

Yes Sophy said that at lunch just a few days
after the excavation

He is avoiding me: I am avoiding myself
So I dug around in deep memory
Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday

And Sunday she said that
And by Monday she was Out

Vodka

Lunch and kiss in the elevator
Sex—hard slapping biting

Agropoli, men
Safety, Stacy

Panic attack
to Flora’s
got my nails done

Friday met Gianluca
Out of Control
Friday night with the marine
Saturday raging sore throat
Came home. Crawled in bed.

But I got better with cinnamon and Salt
and then Halloween Came.
Saudela, the Roman goddess of seduction

Talked to many men
Then Richard with those big brown eyes, making out
Sucking the fingers of the cab driver Angelo

Ended up with Riccardo in our room,
Small dick, condom, like it never happened

Next morning date with Gianluca
wandering around
looking for places to make out in the broad daylight
Remembering it is illegal in Italy for a cock to be out

Found that out with Joseph a couple years ago
Why can’t we give blowjobs in cars here like normal people do?

Then Friday morning
The apartment in Fiumicino
He was there
And we had wild, crazy, passionate sex

I came with someone else for the first time in a long time

It was very good
I stood in the wind, rainbow over the raging sea
Storm
Alive
Absolution
in the midst of Sin

Weekend slumber party with Flora
and then Sunday afternoon and Monday in bed, alone

Now it is Tuesday afternoon and I look back
Maybe it’s been three weeks.
Three weeks since the mining happened, minding

He still won’t see me, won’t talk

I haven’t replied to Gianluca’s messages

It is time to go to the store and buy cigarettes, avoid the old man
who definitely should know better by now
But who am I to judge anyone?

I want to be one of the guys again,
Like with Mauro and Aristide over the fire pit
Thursday with Carlos and Bobby and Big A
I think that will work.

This is my story. She is a wild one, Saudela.
I am not the only one with the fucked up past
Or the sexual acting out

But I am the only one in this story, my story
Solving and resolving
This puzzle

Of what is real—the good times or the bad
Both are real.
I wanted to come.

I was married once, and he loved me for a long time.
Until he didn’t anymore. But I threw it away
Maybe if I had tried harder…I don’t know.

I want to be wanted, I want to have love again.

But maybe it won’t happen in this life.

Maybe this life

I am on my own
Like Prince told me all those years ago.

4. This is the Year

Three years he said
Three years for what
I didn’t know

Still don’t

But this is the year
Three years

A year, time itself
Is a construct

But I suppose has meaning
Or wouldn’t exist

All words are made up

So accepting that this
Constructed time
exists and that the
Three years have elapsed

This is the year

For what, I don’t know

But I am prepared
I am advancing
Like the army at Hastings
Uphill battle, the
One arrow penetrating
History.

5. No no e no

Good, because
I have nothing to say to such a coward except
Your lack of courage brings us shame
I too am Roman

And you doom us to another life
When we could have
Solved ourselves this time around
It’s not over yet

So I will sit in my self-righteous anger
Fuel to burn
To keep me going
Not even think about you

You are a disappointment
and a brat
A reflection, perhaps
And show me where to change

Stop disappointing myself
Stop being a brat

Move forward

We’ve broken up again
Something that never was whole

In this life

We can’t escape each other or our path
Our destiny
It’s locked into our cells
Coded in our souls

But I can finish getting dressed
And go to the car show with my dad
Forgive everyone
Forgive myself

Forgive even you
One day, not today

Maybe today

Maybe by the end of this

Sure, I forgive your cowardice
Grateful it isn’t what I inherited

I feel sorry for you
Pity, mercy
Sympathy

How pathetic it must feel
to be so weak and afraid

I have no idea

Hold your pain, wrap yourself in it
Guard your diseased heart

Take all you can from women
Except love, you can’t feel or taste or see

And I will live this side of our lives
Brave
Faithful
Filled with love and joy

I shall not complain or be dissatisfied
I drew good cards

And will play my hand.

6. Second Chance

When I was a kid
The Rubik’s Cube came out
I was in the gifted program
Smart, but not as smart
As a bunch of other kids
Who could solve that thing in seconds
All nine sides

You are multi-faceted, and I
could only ever solve two
Opposing sides

But there is no one else
No help, no cheating this time
It is me and this puzzle
Of you

I can’t ask you to solve yourself
I am pretty sure I won’t be able to do it
I can keep trying, but I haven’t solved one of
These puzzles yet

7. Stretch Marks

Morning Sickness
Sore breasts
Stretch marks
Frequent urination
Weight gain
Poor sleep
Water breaking
Contractions
Dilation
Epidural, perineum
Push!
Afterbirth
Meconium
Latching
Colostrum
Sore nipples
Crying
Holding breath
Cradle cap
Diaper rash
Diapers
Diapers
Diapers
Nursing
Bottles, formula
Feeding, high chair
Diaper bag
Car seat, stroller, walker, playpen, swing, bouncy seat, bassinet, cradle, crib
Teething
Sitting up
Spitting up
Projectile vomit
Ear infections
Crawling
Standing, first steps
Electric outlets and bookshelves secure

This is only the beginning
We become experts at all of the above, and more
As fast as we can, this trial by fire

Eighteen years
of toys, sports, education, friendships,
instruments, adjustment,
Everyday, something

Yet the absolutely hardest part
is watching her, my baby,
disappear before my eyes.

8. Asino and Cow

Both play the game
half the deck
turn after turn

I don’t want to win
I want to play
He wants me to win
But he must play
As hard as he can

Turn after turn
He told me this
At the beginning
Anticipation

I think it is
A dangerous game
We may run out of time
But this morning
I see we can never
run out of time

I went from
Paradise called
Wanderer’s Beach
to eternal city

To the bridge by way of
Panico
To play these cards
turn after turn
My love, what a genius you are
He says I helped design it
This game we play
Drawing and discarding
turn after turn

9. Almost There

A little lost, perhaps
Unknown landscape
Can’t see the sun
Or tell which way I’m headed

Keep going

It’s Summer
My favorite season
Tomatoes are ripe
And I will swim today

Keep going.

It’s Morning
My favorite time of day
Strong black coffee
Birds singing

Keep going

It’s Monday
My favorite day of the week
New to-do list
Nothing required of me

Keep going

I talk myself through
Each moment
in this wilderness
of Time

Keep going

Stillness, patience
This moment is
All I seek
Even as I go through it

Keep going

It’s 7:24 a.m. here
2:24 p.m. there
I am so weary
of nothing, from nothing

Keep going.

Step by step
My poor flat feet
Earth bearing
My wandering

Keep going

Barefoot tiptoe
Whatever it takes
Keep going

Keep going keep going keep going

Echo, refrain
I know where I am.
I am going

10. Upon finding “A Song for Bugs”

I found a poem last night
I wrote decades ago
That said almost the same thing
As what I wrote yesterday morning.

Yesterday was long.
I barely made it
I had to dig deep inside
for strength in order to survive it

I’m a little nervous for today

It is hard to keep going like this
To stay the course
I say, “I can’t do it anymore.”
But inside I hear, “You can.
And you will.”

Mercy comes in the forms of
dragonflies and bees
Other insects I fish out
of the pool, playing God
This one saved, that one sent into
The pit

I saw one I’d never
seen before
A glitter bug, I called it.
Small like a ladybug, but
black with gold glitter on its
wings. He sparkled
He got saved.

I tried for an hour to
Resuscitate a dragonfly
It almost worked
Eventually I had to give up,
thinking about different people
I’ve lost over the years.
Am losing now.

Mercy comes in
waves, the lines
of sunshine on the
bottom of the pool
outlined in rainbow

Ribbons that
Visibly demonstrate
The universe is
music vibrating around
us at all times
and we are part of it

Yet some days are long.

When the sun gets low
the water turns to gemlike
aquamarine, topaz
And I swim in jewelry like
Elizabeth Taylor.

“You just do it. You force yourself to get up. You force yourself to put one foot before the other, and God damn it, you refuse to let it get to you. You fight. You cry. You curse. Then you go about the business of living. That’s how I’ve done it. There is no other way.”—Elizabeth Taylor

11. Holding My Breath

When we don’t talk
It is like holding my breath

I can only go so long
Before I must breathe
Again

But I have learned
To breathe in deeply
I can hold it

Deep, deep

Eventually
I will breathe

Composition

Where does this song
Come from, that sings in my veins

Caffeine, nicotine, alcohol
Whatever we use to try
To stir the blood
But it is there
That song
Flowing within
Beneath the layers
Past the walls we’ve built
To shield us from the world and ourselves.

Sing, veins, sing
I am listening

I hear your voice
Singing my song

And all the music that
was, is, and shall be

12. Taxi: Rome

Riding past the mouth of truth
Palatino, Caracalla
With “I kissed a girl and I liked it”
playing on the radio

I keep getting into cars
With strangers, men
Today I am not sure—
Do I smell or does he?

I live off cigarettes wine and pain
and it’s enough

I heard music today
And it’s enough

I walked past the ancient gate and walls
Places I used to go
And it’s enough

Too much sometimes but
I like it
I like being here
And it’s enough

These lies I tell myself
Until they are true
And it’s enough

I don’t like lying to myself
or anyone else

Maybe they aren’t lies
Maybe it is enough
and I am the greedy child
He thinks I am

Always wanting more
Always wanting some other thing
The next thing

Always wanting

And he is afraid
Or maybe he knows

If he lets himself go
Lets himself be mine

I will use him for a moment
then become dissatisfied.

Until I learn
To quit lying
Quit wanting

Quit

I will wander
Until my feet get tired

Get in
with strange men,
Taxis or otherwise

Pay my fare,
Until I am broke.

13. Boxes

This is the box you will live in
This is the box you will sit in front of
This is the box you will take with you
When you don’t have your other boxes
This is the box you will drive around in

This is the box you will check
This is the box you will carry
That also carries you.

This is the box
This is the box

Box
Box

Left
Right
Hook
Walls go down

This is the box
You will end up in
Make sure you see a little bit of it all
Before you go

14. Behind All The Masks

Behind all the masks
I strip away
There is another

I keep trying.

But ultimately
I’m just trying to stay alive

And if the masks keep me safe
And alive

I will layer them on
The masquerade
The only dance I know

So keep to yourself
Stay in your shadows
And I will wear my masks

Stay alive
Stay well

Things We Don’t Believe In

15. If you were bad

If you were bad
As you claim to be
You would have consumed me destroyed me
Broken me

Instead I am stronger, wiser
More filled with love
For you and all
Than I could imagine before

If you were good
You would be a liar, false
Hidden under a mask of self-righteousness
And no good to anybody

Instead you hide, inventing shadows
Where there’s only light
By closing your eyes
Blind, when you could see

16. Bills

Walking home today
I realized
The path I chose
Was love
Passionate, unrestrained, wild
Love

Should I lament that?
Should I be sorry?

I can hear the bells ringing
seven o’clock
Saturday in Venice

I have problems back home,
Bills to pay
Work to do

And if I’m honest
I’m worried

Even as the bells chime
The here and now

But the path I choose is
Love

With all its grand adventures
And when I think about it
My bill’s already been paid.
17. Hell Yeah

I tried to go to a club called Sinners last night
But they wouldn’t let me in

This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me

I’ve been curious about this place for months
Since I first came to Flora’s apartment down the
Via Portuense in the autumn
Now six months later
I live around the corner from this club

And thought what the hell
Let’s try
I haven’t tried to get into a place in decades
Although rejection and I have daily discourse

But that’s another story

After being turned away,
We got into a taxi and went to Delirium
That place is for children the cab driver said,
meaning Sinners

Meaning we’re too old

I’m okay with that

Brooke said I don’t want to go to some bougie place.
She likes beer and hamburgers. She is a real person.

But I had been curious about Sinners
Since I’d first seen it
The snakes, S’s of their logo
The idea itself

But,
They wouldn’t let me in.

18. Love brought me here

Love brought me here
And here I stay
I don’t regret it
I’m sitting on a balcony
In Rome
The sun is shining
Cars buzzing the street like bees

Bees like smoke

I smoke, waiting

But all in all
I am glad I came

People give me things
I need, without me asking

Flora just gave me some socks

So even if the love
That brought me here
Is different than I imagined
There’s still love
A lot of it
In all the little corners

Filling up the day.

19. Next Step

I have gone this far
and then
there is no more
Stubborn mule
Not one more step
Shall I take

I see the abyss waiting
waiting to swallow me up
I looked over the edge the other day

into the black hole inside
I saw the shades
I saw the darkness
I saw the truth

I have run from that place
My whole life

And guess what
I am still alive

But in the safety of my bed
And the sacred space we share
I dared to look

Peer down into that place
My own sin
My own shame
My own reckoning

You’re right, we all have shades
Inside us
I’m right too, we are all beautiful messes
And should find joy were we can.

20. To Make Whole

All poets are crazy
All artists are crazy
Poets are artists
Writers actors musicians
Painters
Sculpt this clay
Earth
into shape
give form
to the emotional collective
Energy
of Earth
Crazy
What is crazy?
All poets, artists are crazy

Cra-zy, man
Slang once
Say it like a beatnik
Cra-zy

The word comes from
to shatter, crush, break to pieces
Full of cracks and flaws

Kintsugi—repair with gold
emphasize the imperfections

We need the cracks
in us to feel the energetic flow
fault lines of humanity
We fill them with gold
Mined from within
To keep us all together
One.

21. Asino

I see your face in my mind
But it’s not your face now
It is a memory, a caricature almost
from ancient days.

I tried to draw it, with ink
How I see it in my mind
But I can’t

Bring the ink in the image
to the page.

You are outlined in black
I see it.
Light must define you.

Give you shape.
I let the energy of Light
enter my body, my pores, my cells
And find the Shape of the known Universe
Looks exactly like the shining drops of
water on my skin in the light
An Eye—center, all colors

Come with me, my love
into Light—I found you
in the Shadows
in my mind
A hidden man, night creature
I zoomorphize

But your face in my mind is the face
of Man—thousands of years
of Waiting.
So close.
Right there in my mind’s eye.

22. Confession

Feminists, my fine friends,
cover your ears, cover your eyes.
This is not for you.

I’m sorry about it.Truly.
This is all very shocking
to me as well. I never
would have thought
This could happen. To me.

And yet it has. I
am in love
crazy, stupid, soul-breaking
love with a man
who is more than a man.
The man, the one who
makes me a woman.

I’ve never even kissed him.
After two years.
Only seen him a few
times—five, to be
exact. In Rome.

He is everything I would
want in a man, and
nothing I would want
at the same time. He
destroys me daily, and I
rebuild. My mind, my ego
My pride and vanity. My folly.

This man, the Roman
doesn’t want me.
But I don’t let go.
I think he does love
me. But not enough
to face his own fears.
Maybe, maybe if I wait

And let life pass by.

The thing is
Yin to Yang
The Other Half
Divine Counterpart
Twin fucking flame.

The one I knew
was out there
For whom I was
designed.

How can I turn
my back on that?
And say, “Meh.”

Time will tell, as it has foretold
This destiny over many lives.
I wait.

Life passes by.
23. The Union of Souls

The music layers the air
While the gulls continue laughing
at us
Reminding us it’s all a joke
A big cosmic game.
The guitarists from the forum
Are filling the air
And letting us know
You are music
as well as earth and sky.
There is impatience here,
even here,
In this ancient eternal place.
No time to be still no time to
Reflect
And be. There’s a little
Sadness in the air
Of dissatisfaction. Everyone searching
Looking instead of seeing
But that can’t be helped. That can’t be
explained or taught.
This is life’s lesson
The reason we’re here
Something we each must
Learn on our own, we
All must learn
Moment by moment
Breath by breath
And so I breathe
You breathe
Our collective inhalations, exhalations
Respiration the filling again of our Spirit
There are many levels
We rise and fall
Again like breath
Seeking to become
Simply level
Balanced. Whole.
One.

24. Editing Myself

This poem
shall be short.
I’ve already used
more than my share
Of words.

Wait a minute.
Maybe I didn’t use
the words
Consume them
Maybe I
Gave the words
Generated them

The core reactive
within
fused with Source

Energy released
Contained in
a glass of water

Poured out

I edit myself now
In these days
A skill I’ve learned
through flowers and pain.

Short, and to the point.

Keep space between
the branches
So folks can see
for themselves
What is there.
___ ____ __
___.

25. Clark Street, Part One

Today
is the last day.
The day before the first day
Because time travels that way
Endings, beginnings, endings, beginnings
We surf the waves
Our bodies know
More than our minds, less than our souls

I exist in my mind
Body and soul
like strangers, acquaintances at best.
Enough to say hey, no deep conversations.

Although we all inhabit the same time and space
Like Clark Street
All these lives going on
Tragedies, triumphs
Gardens growing, marriages and men dying
Temptations and trials
Battles, defeat, decline
Where is Victory?
That winged Nike to ride the Sky
and vanquish all fear, all shadow.

The air conditioner comes on
Breaking morning silence
Your big silence I can’t break

Why should I want to break it?
Why can’t I accept your silence
And find peace, victory within?
Maybe tomorrow.
Today is the last day.

26. Clark Street, Part Two

That’s why.

The next song comes…
“If I ain’t got you.”

I am a creature for your love
and if I ain’t got you…

Everything means nothing…

I light one more cigarette
Pick up the pen, let smoke and ink flow
Find out my heart

I watched Clint Eastwood’s segment
of the Blues yesterday
The last one, six weeks of summer
Spanning time, piano blues
And tonight I will see some live at Ground Zero
with LaLa and Seth and Mississippi Marshall
and Lee Williams on drums
Element 88

I will smoke on the porch
And chat, pretend I am alive
When
I know the truth.

Let’s feel Alive you said, three summers ago.
If I ain’t got you with me
Everything means nothing.
Even ink, and smoke.

27. Clark Street, Part Three

The next song comes on
I wrote to many years ago.
Characters alive
Singing

There is an empty pause
rest
Space
to hear nothing
I love space
in ikebana in words in time
An open, empty place in which to
Reset—champagne bubbles
Freeland says

Tango, secrets, bed

A rest, a pause, a place and movement held
Still
Exquisite
The only thing: Anticipation

You said that too…
I tell myself
Enjoy this: Love

The tension of it
Like thread

Strung out, Alive
You are right, like always
Infinity surrounding the whole
Eternity, surrender.
8:08 a.m.
I am Alive.
Singing.

28. Music or
Playing the Field or
Too Many and Not Enough

The Resonator

The first one
the fraud
the real one

the young one
the mysterious one

the wise one
the nice one
the boring one

the good one
the bad one
the arrogant one

the forgetful one
the women
the useful one

the old one
the funny one
the foreign one

the sweet one
the criminal one
the wandering one

the philosophical one
the intelligent one
the storyteller one

the real one
the real one
the real one

the real one

the romantic one
the forbidden one
the forward one

the married one
the gross one
the handsome one

the warty one
the nerdy one
the scary one

the religious one
the angry one
the artistic one
the cowardly one

the big one
the crazy one
the persistent one

the forgotten ones

And only one
The real one
The one and only.

29. Tzadik

He did not break my heart.

He lacerated my heart
with thousands of small cuts
that create a pattern of scars

The scars form a web
connecting
one to another

A map of scars
torn into my heart

A map leading inward
to the darkest
most feared places

I have been on this journey

following my map of scars

To find the center

The origin of the Universe

That exists in every beating heart

And I find
not minotaur monster pot of gold

But the quantum spark of light
Fusion, all life in this electromagnetic pulse
Right there. Right there at the core.

You did not break my heart.

30. Sentient

She’s leaving me
my little muse
Who sparked awake

The dormant flame within

I will see her off
with a smile
and a wave—no tears.

Taking her back to the place we met.

One hot August afternoon
in the sandy lot outside
the station Narni-Amelia
I saw this woman walk toward me

And she brought me home
Took care of me
No one’s taken care of me for a little while.

It felt nice to be cared for.

I noticed this
as an outside observer at first
Noticed that I felt
These pathetic little words “it felt nice”
equal to the little pathos she reawakened.
I could feel something again
I felt
For the first time all long sleeping year

She cooked and talked and listened
We watched movies on the couch in the evening.
Went to the pool, out to dinner. Grocery shopping.
Found a kitten we brought home.
Little things that added up to the
One thing everyone longs for.

And then,
like a seed in spring
I grew
Cracked through the shell, back into the
sun
Virgo Sun
where I belong.

I am alive again, feeling, being, and my
little muse
heads off today to sing her own song.

Be gentle with her, World
and kind.
Take care of my little muse
As she’s cared for me.

This what I ask of you, World.
Even while she’s telling me
last minute things
about radiators and power circuits.

31. Last Day in Virgo

Help

Help

No one is coming

No one is coming

Help yourself
Mercy, Jesus

The pain is too much
I try to focus
Write
Live
Enjoy flowers, the kitten. The wind.
Learn the Greek alphabet and
Italian verb conjugations.
Cook and eat.
Listen to music.
Do my fucking nails.
Maybe take a walk today
See if any blackberries are left
Live my life
I should try to quit smoking, see if
that helps
Maybe go to Tuscany, hear some music.

My fucking heart
—no, it’s my soul—
fuck.

Help, Lord
Please
Have mercy
And give me the strength to bear
this unbearable pain.
Or let me go home.
Or give me a way through.

I love you Lord,
and trust you.
It will be all right in the end
and if it’s not all right
it’s not the end

God has heard
You took my hand in that
church
And gave him to me in the garden
at Croce di Malta
And here I am
crying in a windowsill
in Umbria
The bet is yet to come
Sita, Zitta
Never doubt, Lisa
Never
doubt
Help is on the way.
Be ready.

Like Being Happy

32. The Maiko and Me

Over my headboard
is a piece of fabric
I bought in Kyoto upon which
is a Maiko wandering
a path edged by sakura.

She is alone.

I touch her as talisman
when I feel lonely.
This is what she does,
I do.
She was designed this way. Like me.
Where is it I’m going?

Maybe this path leads to
a castle
Or just a little hut
Either way, I’m home

I have wandered, beautiful

in my silk robe
Showered with petals
Cherry blossoms
stuck in my hair
The perfume, the color
all this earth can offer

We walked, the Maiko
Me
Feet never on the ground
following our one path home.

33. December Poems

[1]

What does this page want to be? A new start, a new story.
Where is the bitterness, escaped on a breath
In the morning light
The sunrise painting the sky

I wake to new purpose, new meaning
In the day, the everyday
The new sacrifice, love poured on the pyre
To be turned to ash

To rise again, free
Flying
Filled, fulfilled
Love’s ever constant fountain
flowing through my heart, my lungs, my veins

I can give, and give again, and give
Until time passes, the time comes

Why not? What else have I got to do?

[2]

Suddenly
in the smoke and ash
I see what the fire has refined

I see the phoenix in the clouds

I see

I see morning and evening
The colors of the sky, a rainbow along the horizon
Running parallel to earth

A way, a road, a journey
I must take
Because why would a way, a road, be there if I wasn’t to walk on it?

Letting go, it all gets done.

I open my heart, my hands, my mind to receive
Whatever is coming.

I look forward to the Coming, the day coming
Coming on the clouds of glory.

In the meantime, I sweep the floor
And make the bed
Plot and plan, wake and walk
Through the days allotted to me.

And in these days, I find the good:
Crisp morning, candlelight, calm
Horseback rides and puppies, roosters crowing
Beach picnics, sunshine by the swimming pool
Flowers.

Folly, failure, chaos
May rip and churn through my days like surf
I can ride.

Exhilarated, triumphant
I beat down the fear
With the strength God gives me.

[3]

And in return, the sacrifice is honored.
I hear the sacred say thank you, Lisa

Well done, good and faithful servant.
Come and share my joy.

And so I come into His presence, invited, beloved
unafraid to live.

34. Underneath My Clothes

You told me
Wolves aren’t afraid of the sheep
But didn’t realize

I am a wolf, motherfucker
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
And wolves aren’t afraid of the sheep

The shepherd tends the sheep, takes on the wolves
Beats the shit out of them if he has to.
He does what he has to do to keep the wolf at bay
And keeps the sheep for his own meat

Because he is the one who will devour them later.
He decides when and where.

Wolves aren’t afraid of the sheep
But we respect the shepherd.
We fear his ability to beat the shit out of us.
We are wary, and cautious

I have two dogs, Norwegian Elkhounds
A Viking breed
Wolves with curly tails, long memories,
Intelligence and attitude

I am in charge of this pack of wolves,
The Alpha
But I know the Shepherd.
And have learned to obey
A wolf tamed and trained to listen.

Wolves aren’t afraid of the sheep.
I am a wolf, motherfucker.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
You want a sheep to fuck, to devour
Leave the carcass behind.

35. Puzzles

In the Ardennes
We drive by the bust of Rimbaud
And I take a picture from the car window
thinking we should all stop to write a poem here
But this day is the poem
When the puzzle of my life
Is solved
And I am exactly where I am supposed to be
In a Citroen with young professional people
Still full of dreams
And finding their way on
this road of life.

36. Kámīnos

I am not asking your permission
Or for approbation, approval
I do not need your permission
To exist
To think to be to feel
I allow myself
To do these and more
I am not asking permission
Or for acceptance, accolades
From anyone anymore
I accept no condemnation
No reprobation, reproof
I need only my conviction
To act
To work to see to heal
Accept no condemnation
Ask no permission

The refiner’s fire kámīnos
Divine forge and path
are one and the same.

37. The Cow is Dead

As if a curse is lifted
A spell broken
Nebuchadnezzar

I sit
As is always my destiny
Outside San Pietro

I feel
As is always my destiny
The Spirit, teaching

I am headstrong
Obstinate, stubborn
All words for the same thing

Hard hearted,
hard headed
Hard

I finally see
That through my own folly
My own pride and vanity

I created
My own madness
My own dissatisfaction

And if I allow the layers
Of lies
To evaporate

Let the curse
Lift

There is Jesus,
There is the One
Setting me free

All I have to do
Is walk
Through the open gate

On two feet
Not four

38. Sono Pazzi Questi Romani

Eat more
Shop more
Drive faster

Fuck with dark fetishes

Care less
Think less

Take more, give nothing

Faith and
Love forgotten, hearts cold

39. I will go

I will go
Somewhere
The sun can reach
No more streets shaded by unhappy dwellings
Light unable to penetrate even the highest windows
I was a fool
There is always darkness here
Where I thought there was light
The darkness lives in the human heart
Pagans run after all these things
and never find them
Never find them
There’s always something else to chase
Some other appetite to satisfy
So they run and run, chasing
Not even bright enough to see
It is only the wind

40. Rome
I had this thing called
Roman fever
For three years

And now I’m cured
Fever free

Fuck off you pagans
Keep running after
All these things

I don’t want them
Anymore.

41. La Padrona Divina

I am the woman
Every man wants
Faithful, loving
Beautiful, vivacious
Patient, sexual
Fruitful, rich
Quiet, strong
Confident, balanced
Funny, sweet
Educated, elegant
Intelligent, obedient
A true helpmate
And companion
At home, a home
Anywhere and
Everywhere

I was made for you

Man, Uomo
Not a coward
Not a boy

So be it
Così sia.

42. Last Seen

Last seen recently
Last seen a long time ago
I look everyday
To find out my status in the world
On this app called Telegram
Messages relayed
Dots and dashes
The code to be broken,
Understood

Subdue, submit
Words you used
I said I wanted to care
Then we were off
On a stupid chase
Hide and seek
Playground games
But we’re not children
And the game long ago
Ceased to be any fun

You were last seen
Smiling at me on a side street in Rome
Outside Rosy O’Grady
A late December night
Your fly was undone
Your smile when I told you
Ridiculous, imperfect was
Last seen recently,
Last seen a long time ago
43. The Deepest Part

The deep truth is
It hurt
The growing up

Maybe I write to
Uncover the pain
Maybe I write to mask it

But I will never tell
The things that happened
The lie is important
Not the truth
Not the truth

And maybe I was so desperate
Yesterday to flirt
And distract myself with boys
So I wouldn’t write
I wouldn’t think this feel this remember this

But I remembered late last night

How hard it was
To be hurt and used

Never good enough
Remembered the jealousy

That I knew joy
And innocence

So they destroyed it
Destroyed it all
All of me they could

And it has taken years to rebuild
The simple innocent joy
I once knew

That I was born with
And they couldn’t bear
Because of their own despair
And darkness