Two Poems

A blog contains personal thoughts on many topics. Those thoughts take on many forms. From time to time I write poetry. Have for a very long time. Poems spill the soul into daylight. Other art forms do as well. For me poetry and singing do the trick. Here are two of the former.

Memories of Youth

There were sweet walks in spring time

The place California, Altadena to be exact

I can still smell the lingering aromas

            Moist yet light, tangy of trees

            Filtering sunlight,

            Waving blooms of nectar

           Traffic gave off an occasional ‘swish’
           Moving the air but not clouding it
           Hinting at life beyond the neighborhood
                        Streets that disappeared at the horizon
                        In a mystery of ‘where’
                        And a cue of possibility

Pungent sweet smells of lilacs

            First smelled at 6 or 7 years of age
            What’s that smell Mom?
                        Which one, the purple flowers?
                        The heavy bush of Lilac?
                        They’re spring flowers

What’s spring? What’s Lilac?

            It’s those bushes, the ones with two different
            Colors of purple, and some with white
                       They bloom each year at this time
                       They remind us of new life
                       They welcome the season with a smile

My first knowing encounter of Lilacs

            And ever thus have they been with me
            Going to the doctor – in Pasadena
            Walk the long block to Hill Avenue
            Wait for the bus
                        But so exciting!
                        Following the street down the hill
                        Toward the city – the smell of diesel smoke

The swelling sound of the motor

            The slow acceleration – the constant rumble
            The passing palm trees and abundant shrubs
                        Shiny leaves
                        Occasional flowers and bulby-things
                        Seeds for later growth I learned

Homes grow sparse, replaced by stores

            And busy intersections – stop signs and lighted signals
            And cars everywhere
                        Mixed with people walking with purpose
                        To stores and offices, and just down the sidewalk
                        Suggesting purposes not yet known to me

Off the bus – the pavement hard, dirty, busy

            Smells of people – cigar smoke, cigarette smoke
            Perfumes of passing ladies
                        Hats and scarves, gloves and high heels
                        Men with Hats and suit coats and heavy shoes
                        A fanciness of special place and time?

Building lobby, heavy gated elevators

            With a white gloved operator man
            Announcing floors – ours with doctors
                        Echo-y hallways, hard marble floors
                        High baseboards and ornate doors
                        Smoked glass door to our doctor

Smells of alcohol and something else

            The something-elses mingling
            To create a distinctive odor for all time
                        It spoke of special knowledge
                        Of personal treatment
                        Of getting well, or at least better

The return home with prescription in hand

            Fresh shot administered to ease breathing
            An appointment for the next week
                       Another bus ride
                       More strangers to see and study
                       Different smells to encounter

Then we are home and clothes are changed

            So we can have lunch, then nap
            Then a walk in the neighborhood
                        Langorous and inviting
                        Aroma-filled with waving plumage
                        Of trees, shrubs and flowers

Southern California at its finest

            March or April, or maybe May
            The weather is mighty fine and easy
                        Soft breezes, nothing harsh    
                        Soft aromas, nothing brash
                        Soft memories, of comfort and safety.

Afternoon. Quiet; no, peaceful

            Waking from nap; cross breeze in room
            Music from Living room
                        Mom playing the piano
                        Now agitated, then serene
                        But always hopeful – beautiful.

Note: We dressed for the doctor; Mom in hosiery and heels; church-going dress;

                      Me in dress shorts with matching jacket; white or saddle shoes and white
                      Socks; hair plastered down and neatly combed, except the double cowlick
                      Always, Always stood up! Of all the places to have allergies and asthma! I
                      was allergic to foods and Most growing things; in southern California
                      where the growing season was nine or ten months each year! And smog
                      that choked even healthy people!

May 17, 2010

Flashes

Flashes of memory glimpse times past

            Moments that dwell, briefly viewed
            Again and Again when Life needs it
            Memories that ground us

            Glints of truth sparkle at odd times
            They niggle the mind to remember
            What’s important and what’s not
            Only the clear point eludes us, out of reach

Itches of de ja vu only we know

            That they are not echoes of now
            But rather of past moments just like these
            That inform us, mean something

Tricks of thought lure us to think

            We know something, but incomplete
            And we smugly feel content
            While still unknowing

When, oh when, will we be allowed

            To finish the thought, connect the dots?
            Or do we control that? Can we form the idea
            Because we can, ought or must?

If not me, who?

            If not now, when?
            If not truth, what meaning?
            Can I? Must I? Yes!

8/16/10
Blog Date November 7, 2011