Monday, October 1, 2018

Beth and Joe

Who can stay still when drinking in the sensuality of blues rock singer BETH HART as she pairs with cosmic guitarist JOE BONAMASSA?!?  I need say no more, just listen, and WATCH.

"I'd rather be a blind girl, than to see you walk away..."  Oh babee! 

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Thank you Cory Booker !

My former mayor and friend, Sen Cory Booker who guided my city as best anyone could, is standing up by staying mute in the Kavanaugh mess.  The silence is meant to display disgust and ire.  How does someone like Kavanaugh even make judgeship is no mystery in the right-ist climate this country has been leaning toward for some time now.  Scary stuff.


Thoughts upon the Man I Loved as we Lay side by side,
on his bed, in his home,
and he drifted into sleep.
I thought I felt a long breath from his lips.
There it was.
The man who died in my arms.
The man who held my heart and future.
The man I can't release.
The Dead Man.

Like a friend who missed their cue,
I came in late at home with you -
Let me take you back with me
we'll feast upon our symphony.
You went too far and lost your way
then I committed one delay -
and in that hour you sealed my fate,
now night awaits at every gate.
And I forgot how sleep occurs
And I forgot the use of words
And I forgot that joy is gifted
I can't see my spirit lifted.
Constant tears have taken hold
of what was once my love so bold,
Everywhere I see a shade
which hastens to make me afraid.
Ghosts have taken residence
inside my soul - I feel too tense,
loosen please this chain of fear
and come back home my dear.

Saturday, June 2, 2018


                     I WILL DIE TO FIND YOU  ~ MY LOVE ~  

Through a million exploding stars I will make a warrior’s charge

In the midst of fire and pain I will make of it a barge

To sail swift over ten thousand waves on the powerful Universal Sea

I will tear at the fabric of time and the empty space that has become me

To find you once again.      


I offer now one arm, one leg, to those low bids which took yours.

A misery I happily become for you, and fall on iron floors

Sweet sacrifice, what need have I to ever walk, to touch,

Save run into your waiting arms, and kiss and kiss you such.

I will find you again. 


Take my promise oh Giver of All, glad is my soul should I have to fall – just guide my path to his waiting heart, universe oh grand surprise you’re tearing me apart!

I will find him again.  


If I cannot live without this one, beloved of the heart

How can I die without knowing why such penance did start?

For now without single smile, of all joy quite bereft

There’s naught I want in fickle life, my time has nothing left.


Oh I would die to find you again!

Friday, December 9, 2016

I Would Have Stayed

He died in my arms.  I thought he was sleeping.  I left him to rest. 
I never saw my dear one again. 
Oh dear God I would've stayed....

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Down To The Last of the Wine

Repost of June 2006

(Written in 1972 while in an abbey on retreat.  I had "found" a bottle of sacraficial wine, and being young and bored, took to my little cell and reflected thus:)
I lie here dying in a hundred small ways
from voices crying out my name down endless hallways;
and the clock keeps ticking, eating up the time,
and I'm down to the last of the wine.
My eyes are amazed at the movement my hand makes
while reaching out to the disappearing handshakes,
and the room keeps spinning, slowly in my mind,
and I'm down to the last of the wine.
I sleep on my back, all through the night
and dream of dying, lost in the sunlight
floating on cloudy mists, feather-fine,
I'm still drunk on the last of the wine.
As familiar shadows of the morning start to harden,
I rise up singing to the angel in the garden.
Some sweet and silent angel of another place and time
who sees that I've had enough wine.

No Casket For Me Please

Repost of June 2006
Lay me down in a bed of grass
when my body dies, that it may pass
deep into the essence of
this glorious earth I do so love.

But until that time:
My heart gives rise to the high places,
how transcendent is God in these spaces!
Where trickster breezes weave through my hair
and the miracles of life are everywhere.

Then soon:
As a falling leaf, my cheek it doth kiss
this life I know I'll sorely miss;
so when you note my long, last nod,
just place me in the soft, green sod.
By Cathy S. Rapicano - June 4, 2006