RED ROOF INN, Love a Few Miles North of Trenton, New Jersey

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RED ROOF INN,
Love a Few Miles North of Trenton, New Jersey,
Rewrite



An impossibly large bed stretched out across the room.
Between its feet and a long chest of drawers
A narrow aisle traveled the length.
It ran from the front door to the back of the room.

And you, there, in your bikini briefs, in an alcove,
It was an enclosure directly opposite the bathroom,
And it occupied half the suite’s entire width.

You were standing up against a cantilever table.
It was a wall-to-wall vanity with a mirror,
A mirror, which was as long as the table’s surface,
And it covered the back wall up to the ceiling.
Recessed lamps provided light from overhead.

You brushed your hair, and
With each stroke I saw
How your shoulder blades flexed.

I rose up from the bed,
Took a few steps,
And then, still from behind you,
I bent my torso forward at the waist,
And extended my arms,
My hands reached both your legs at the ankles.

Head-down, I pulled myself close to you.
My left shoulder found the center,
It rested right between your buttocks and legs.
The left side of my chin found a niche,
It touched the back of your right knee.

I was squatting and each of my hands
Was wrapped around one of your ankles,

When I stood up, I told you,
I had never personally encountered a woman
Who looked so much the better naked than clothed.

“Wow!” Burst out. And you said,
“You sure know how to compliment a girl.”

‘Woman! Trust my veracity.
‘Do not confuse my honest praise with flattery.’

I spoke only to myself, my tongue was tied.

Yet, then pretending to further my defense,
I more or less recalled the poet’s immortal words,
Those lines about truth and beauty being one,
And is not response to beauty, truth?

I ran the maxim in my mind, I was dumbfounded,
“‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty.’”

I dwelled in total awe of you.

And when old age our generation shall waste,
And time brings world to more and other woes,
We have had this moment and its sentiment remains –
‘Darling, that is all,’ I said to myself,
I had not uttered a word aloud,

‘You know on earth, and all you need to know.’

JAMES EARL RAY*

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JAMES EARL RAY*



He was known to be the kind of guy,
Who studied every brick and crack,
And by sight alone could spot a weak, steel bar.

A single-minded psychopath,
Escape was always on his mind.



*He was convicted of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He confessed to the crime and passed on a jury trial. A habitual criminal, Ray was sentenced to 99 years in prison. Later he recanted his confession and unsuccessfully tried to gain a trial. He died in prison in 1998.

LOVE STORY, At the Hardware Store

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LOVE STORY,
At the Hardware Store




Hey! Dad,
Though try as hard as I can,
I won’t be able to finish the inventory.

Count up the boxes of screws?

Can’t get the details straight,
The length, the head type, the number of the thickness,
All those different labels,
Way too much task to require of me,
Given my present mental state!

I’ll never enter the correct figures on the sheets;
That accountant, he’ll have to wait, until I feel better.

Blame Aphrodite,

Soft as she is
She has almost
Killed me with
Love for that girl.

SERENDIPITY, Against All Odds, Edited

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SERENDIPITY,
Against All Odds,
Edited



I know it's cosmic!
It's like, heavy, man!

Mystery inscrutable to regular analytical tools,
A Logic whose outcome sits beyond
Scope of rational, academic exercise!

Even with reference to twenty, ancient texts
I could not begin to fathom
How in a parking garage,
That on weekends became a swap meet,
A regular New York City antique flea market,
With stalls and all kinds of old and colorful goods,
Jarek, a friend, and my helper,
Who always had kept counsel his own,
-- This, the one instance, for he never, never
Interfered, ventured opinion on any other matter! --
Interrupted the normal, business routine,
The booth’s weekly setup,
And with all the patience he could muster,
Reiterated to me, not once, but on at least, half-dozen,
Separate occasions, a notion that you and I were right,
Good, one for the other, in every special way.

He said you wanted me.
You later objected,
Said no such thought ever entered your head,
That his estimation was wrong, yet admitted
Women frequently flirt to their advantage.

I had noticed you, to be sure!

You were a regular customer,
But no thought of romance had entered my ken.
I had not imagined us a suitable couple.

No! Not at all,
Until the one, very early morn when,
During a heavy rainstorm, I drove across Brooklyn
To collect you from the hostel
For our first daylong excursion, and brought you a
Single exotic flower in a clear glass vase.

You, sister, Oeland, Baltic island woman;
I sprung from the land-locked plains of Illinois.

Consider it, the millions-to-one odds
Stacked against our favor, I... I, I mean, duh!

I trust you may come to believe

This thing of ours rests outside human command.
And let’s remember,
Whatever the divine designates together

No mortal may draw asunder.

This is it! I do! I do love you!

Tonight the pilot naps in the back seat.
I fly the aircraft. The bright,
Rollover arrows signal the glide path.
And over the wire direct to my ear,
Ten thousand watts propel the voice.
It says, 'You do! You do love her!'

SAD, Following an Ancient Writer’s Reflection

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SAD,
Following an Ancient Writer’s Reflection*



Etta, do you not care when I am ill?

Remember last week, when a pinched nerve
Kept me in bed for most of a day?
I could not walk,
I began to panic, and
Believed I might never be well again.

And your response, terrible, cold and unmoving,
Declaring what in my heart was apparent;
You told me that you had no aspirations,
That if I sought a Florence Nightingale,
I had barked up the wrong alley.

It hurt most, when after a moment’s reflection,
I came to believe your response sounded rehearsed.

It had a tone, which seemed practiced more than once.

Yet when I had fallen,
Became lost to pain in an otherwise robust frame,
And you had shown no worry, commiserated not a bit.

You had actually precluded concern.

Now that my health returns,
I must wonder whether,
If you ever cared for me at all.


*The inspiration for this poem was Suplicia's POEM 5. She was a woman poet of the 1st century CE, and, as usually is the case, little about her life and work has survived the ages.

Estne tibi, Cerinthe, tuae pia cura puellae,
quod mea nunc vexat corpora fessa calor?
A! ego non aliter tristes evincere morbos
optarim, quam te si quoque velle putem.
At mihi quid prosit morbos evincere, si tu
nostra potes lento pectore ferre mala?

BEWARE, Reckless Love, Revised

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BEWARE,
Reckless Love,
Revised



Audience,
Should this book pleasure you, beware!
Know an idolater has made it,
Although he sought to subjoin words to holy theme,
The good news that earth and spirit be one,
He failed and remains unredeemed,
Then to his hands that writ he did betake,
Which he disclosing read, thus as the paper spoke



That it had been sworn,
Even every single line of verse,
And all else he calls his own,
Believe it or not, his life itself,
To graven image, he worships
Finite woman, a girl made of flesh and bone.

For her, it was all for her, for her alone,
He had conserved his health and appearance,
He tempted fame and fortune,
And since the days of youth,
When he marched in line, the bishop’s Confirmation,
No sacrament meant more to him than day with her.

And he waited;
He waited as no else could have waited,
No one in this world would have waited for her,
For anyone, as he waited for her, his patience,
Unparalleled, he had not despaired.
Believe me; believe, reader, though now
The axiom rings worn and shallow, he exampled
Within the human breast, hope springs eternal.

Oh dreamy picture of love,
That all force of history might conspire,
Act to exact his design, no, no, not reckless,
But true, he built for the future,
Knew it was right,
As surely as the clock measured the hours,
That she would return to his arms.

He waited for her, heart and mind,
And with every, single bit of his physical self,
His arms, his eyes, his lips, all the flesh of his being,
He waited for her as no one else might have waited!

Let me drop the pretense,
This whole business of third person,

As deer crave for running waters,
So I crave, so I crave, so I crave for you,
As a mother wish for an absent daughter,
So I wish, so I wish, so I wish for you,
As father long for return of prodigal son,
So I long, so I long, so I long for you,
As a pastor ache for member lost to church’s flock,
So I ache, so I ache, so I ache for you.

PLEDGING MY LOVE, Abide with Me, Easter, 2010

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PLEDGING MY LOVE,
Abide with Me, Easter, 2010




Abide with me for fast closes day.
Darkness deepens with alacrity,
Nothing halts the night.

Stay with me while time permits.
Although other comforts flee,
Accept I mean the best,
Spare your soul from bottom and regret.

In every deed, and in my every word,
I want to be true, do right by you.

Though many things to tell,
One thing sums it right,
One thing huge, deep and great,
With ocean of delight,
My heart embraces you.

You, my love, are all my life today.

I wish to assure, let it be known,
Though you in mortal moment seem,
Great Light, Infinity, blesses you.

Happy outcome, what ever your secret dreams,
That they find an absolute alignment,
God’s will be done,
And you have the power to carry them out.

And to top it off!

I hold belief, whose strength
No public fire, no coliseum of wild, hungry beasts,
Nor awful rendition, chamber in far-off land,
Might ever shake, nothing my faith dissuade,

Yes! Certain, when I write,

For you awaits the greatest gift,
Upon the breaking of each and every, early day,
That you will have come to believe,
And learn to say, Thank You,
Thank You, Lord, for life,
And yet all You do for me.