Today is my mother’s hundredth birthday
Now how can that be, seems just yesterday
That we sat together to bid goodbye
In that quiet place you could hear a sigh.
A squeeze of the hand and a fond farewell
Are all I recall and all I can tell
Her smile was a gift and pleasant surprise
She was simple and kind, loving and wise.
How lucky was I to have her with me
She kept me grounded and prejudice free.
Miss you a bunch Mom, no matter how far
And wish you my love wherever you are.
CENTENNIAL ( 2013 ) 2013/07/20
FALLACY ( 2013 )
All of my life I have been told
There is no cure for growing old
It’s just the sum of all we’ve known
Of words we’ve said and deeds we’ve sown.
Tis sad to think we leave this race
About the time we find our pace
Without some help we can’t be sure
And so my dear seems there’s no cure
Except wherein we bid goodbye
When we’ve been told ’tis time to die.
Wild elephants just trudge the way
To where their tusks and bones do lay
Since we are sage and civilized
Our resting place is canonized.
MY OLD AUNT ROSE ( 2013 )
Such a cheerful face and a ready smile
She made my young life so much more worth while
And was always there when I craved advice
With a hug and a kiss not once but twice.
Rose arrived in July of ninety-five
Born just two pounds no one thought she’d survive
She surprised them all and was fine by spring
But never grew tall, just a tiny thing.
She raised five brothers and a niece or two
Looked after her dad and her mother too
She’d knit and crochet and even tat lace
That smile we all loved remained on her face.
Through her very long life she kept her cheer
Dear old Aunt Rose how I wish you were here!
HEALING ( 2013 ) 2013/07/19
I was born in between World Wars One and Two
Which lent me a special perspective and view
Learning to live with the wide scarring war brings
Soon you begin helping to heal all the stings
To take nothing for granted and do your part
Becomes an incentive with peace in your heart
It remains forever despite where you trod
You must not forget to be grateful to God.
PERHAPS ( 2013 )
Love never dies it just fades away
To slumber long in some distant space
There patient wait for that fateful day
Wherein we’ll meet at last face to face.
FAREWELL ( 2013 ) 2013/07/10
If love had wings, I then would fly
Into your arms to say goodbye
I’ve no more time to gift to thee
This precious breath that’s left in me.
I close the door and bow my head
Too soon the hour I will be dead
Enough here now to say farewell
With some regrets I need to tell.
Can this life be my last resort
Or shall I gain another port
That waits for me to finish here
Ere I pursue this virtue clear ?
WISTFUL THOUGHTS ( 2013 ) 2013/07/08
I miss my mom, I miss my dad
And all the friends that I once had
I miss the way life used to be
When joy and hope and peace were free.
These days are gone just blown away
With lost remains of yesterday
Oh how I pray and often yearn
For oldtime pleasures glad return.
I realise now this won’t be
Seems most of it was not that free
I’ve tried quite hard to be aware
And understand with love and care
Here in this world the future brings
Broad visions of lifes happenings.
TOO SOON ( 2013 )
There’s rings and blocks and crayon wax
And books and toys and balls and jacks
These all are part of children’s wares
Like cribs and quilts and rocking chairs.
How sweet it is to watch the young
Begin their lives with hope unsung
Their childish glee and joyful songs
Fill youthful days where love belongs.
I miss these years as I grow old
And wish I knew those stories told
When I was just about their size
With curly hair and blue green eyes.
I’d be so glad though it’s too late
Next stop for me, lifes golden gate.
ON BEING AT THE SEASHORE ( 1983 ) 2013/07/06
This barren rocky precipice that waits beside the sea
And rims the sand’s circumference that is earth’s boundary,
In vivid fascination I do watch with searching eyes
That must scan the water’s surface until it meets the skies,
And where e’er my view dost light, be it simple face or plain
I discern that same wonder which pretends no small explain
Yet does add some mixed texture to the portrait that I find
Bearing just one signature in a likeness of the mind.
Why then is man thus drawn to the countenance of the sea,
Why does he sit there silent as one rapt in reverie?
Can it be that life is all and he merely questions why
As his vision sometimes dims and his wings refuse to fly?
Engaging in that foray which will mark his holy quest
To seek another reason fore he casts aside the rest,
Chance uncover misted veils that have cloaked his destiny
At last to comprehend the ocean’s deep complexity.
CONDITIONS ( 2000 )
Happiness is a state of mind and
love a condition of the heart
Without which man is an empty shell
awaiting life’s meaning to start.
TENEMENTS ( 1983 ) 2013/07/05
A sagging roof, a window vine
A tattered dress upon the line,
A shutter bangs against the wall
A bottle breaks out in the hall,
A shingle clacks against the house
A trap is set for wayward mouse,
The steps are old and thick with rust
The structure groans with each wind’s gust,
The ceiling creaks with o’erhead strain
The water trickles down the drain,
The trim is lined with peeling paint
A candle flicks upon a saint.
Here life at best seems times unjust
But tarries on because it must.
DATELINE: Hoboken, NJ USA “LEST WE FORGET” ( 2013 ) 2013/07/04
Where are we now? By 1939 the Great Depression was taking a breather ! The PWA and the WPA had been busy building schools, libraries, city halls, hospitals, county and state institutions for years. While two and a half million brave adventurous young lads from farm and city across this nation became the heart and strength of the CCC movement. They criss-crossed our country clearing lakes and rivers, planting 17 million trees, surveying hills and mountains, building roads, dams and bridges. At the same time saving their families from the impact of poverty by earning a monthly stipend of $30 from the program, $22 of which was sent directly home leaving them each eight dollars for their own use! This was the brainchild of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the right man at the right time! They swarmed across our land with hope and sacrifice, only a few years later to be called upon to fight our attackers in WWII. These were our “greatest generation” and when the time came, they streamed across the deserts of Africa, the sands of Iwo Jima, the beaches of Normandy and the surf of the Solomon’s ! Next time you stroll among those familiar structures in your neighborhood, check out the year on those brick and concrete lintels and cornerstones, if the dates fall within 1933 to 1943 time frame, chances are they were built by the men and boys who labored long and hard to save their homeland ! Learn to be aware and appreciate the contribution of these “the meanest tools that we may chance to use”. Familiar,huh?
Sincerely,
Claire B.
DATELINE: HOBOKEN, NJ,USA (2013) “OH DIOGENES”
What is poetry? I believe poets tell the ugly truth, but cushion the telling with soft and gentle words ! My father told me that something can’t be a lie unless it is based upon an actual fact, else it would be a simple fantasy ! Story telling ! Oh well, I’m not astute enough to be able to distinguish the difference but it appears that I live in the right place at the right time ! I find myself torn by dichotomy, on one hand, Diogenes and on the other, Socrates. The thought of carrying a candle searching for an honest man in these “tornadic” times seems senseless, but who chooses to drink hemlock to score a point ? Kind of reminds one of the ” Lady and the Tiger “. When checking on my words and meaning, I find library “source” books much more factual than I.T. shorthand database which reports multiple opinions and conclusions in minutes, even seconds, as fact ! Scant time for nuances, sadly. No more ancient volumes residing in the world’s most sacred library in Alexandria, Egypt, right? Only ashes?
Sincerely,
Claire B.
LUCID CLOUDS ( 2013 ) 2013/07/02
Have you thought at all about the clouds
As they spread too wide across the sky
And wondered where have they been before
In that giant highway up so high?
Tell me may I join your entourage
Shining bright and white with glory’s glow
Following your celestial path
Will I see or can I get to know?
Far and wide just freely floating there
As they wend their way within my view
Overhead the image grows with hope
I shall spy the sun come peeking through !
THE JOURNEY ( 2013 )
I am consumed with a wonderment of God’s world
Its untold secrets hid, its banners left unfurled
The promise of its vision clear now soon to come
Not by the will of man or beast to welcome some
With open heart, love of God and uncluttered mind,
The courage to accept the treasure we may find
No sacrifice can be too large to comprehend
The great beauty we shall know at our journey’s end.
DATELINE : HOBOKEN, NJ, USA (2013) “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” 2013/06/28
In Philadelphia, July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress formally adopted Mr. Jefferson’s masterpiece ! However, our national anthem which began as a poem written by a 35-year old Maryland lawyer ( who wasn’t born until 3 years after the signing of our nation’s birth certificate ) while he was being detained, a British prisoner on the deck of a warship in Baltimore Harbor on September 13, 1814. The fleet continued a crushing bombardment of Fort McHenry throughout the night, the Americans had ordered the largest flag to overfly the encampment to encourage the occupants of Baltimore. On the morning of the 14th, when the smoke had cleared the question was heard, “oh say, can you see” and the answer was, “yes” ! Well, that insignificant poem written on the back of an envelope exists today with the entire world recognizing its power ! And yet the War of 1812, first invasion of our homeland, doesn’t warrant interest ? Reminds me that the reason behind our war of independence was, hold on, take a deep breath, “taxation without representation” ! I believe America needs a refresher course, don’t you? And who is in charge of “TRUTH.COM”, anyone you know? “Not I”, said Ducky Lucky, “not I”, said Turkey Lurkey; farmyard tales, oh no! While those brave men in Indian war paint tossed that whole cargo of tea into Boston Harbor, the rest of the citizenry backed them up ! Since there was no coffee, probably just chickory, did they drink wine or beer? Well, it’s our birthday again and we are all here, although we are still in need of truth and glory !
DATELINE:HOBOKEN, NJ, USA (2013) “O CANADA”
What do you know about the classic epic poem “Evangeline”? Basic details, but not the “heartless” truths behind its creation by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow of “Hiawatha” fame? “Evangeline” is not a simple romantic tale of love gone awry, but the saga of an ethnic cleansing tragedy that actually occured 1745-1755 on our continent and impacted our nation in ways untold ! Remember the original colonizers “due north” of us were French fur traders, explorers, settlers with Samuel de Champlain at the helm in 1603. “Hello”, Lake Champlain? Let’s tax your knowledge of history once again, think French and Indian War, where that boy ‘who cut down the cherry tree” earned his stripes and became a HERO! Moving on, the French had settled Nova Scotia, called Acadia,New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island ( the Maritimes ) and Quebec 150 years prior to the Brits appearing on that scene ! The year 1755, the French lost, the Acadians were neutral , not good enough ! Next “The Great Expulsion” relocating the Acadians after separating men from women and children . Load the men onto English man’o’wars and dump them in the swamps of French Louisiana prior to the Revolutionary War and the “Purchase” by Jefferson. Transport the rest to ports along the lower Atlantic coast from Maine to Vineyard’s Harbor ( Cape Cod ) to prevent increasing numbers above the possibly remaining 20,000. However, without the Acadians who “morphed” into Cajuns, we could have lost the Battle of New Orleans, January 8, 1815 in the War of 1812 along with Andrew Jackson’s eventual presidential win. I failed to cite “Mardi Gras” et al, their gift to us!
SILENT THIEF ( 2013 )
Do you recall those summer days that used to be
When all we did was play beside the sand and sea,
No thought or care to question our security
And whether freedom’s virtues were no longer free,
What’s caused all this, I do not know or cannot see
Who is it now that schemes to curb our liberty?
TIME OUT ( 2013 )
I think it’s time to put our dreams away
Lest we should lose that touch of day to day
That fills the void of each and ev’ry hour
With common sense that energizes power.
DATELINE: HOBOKEN, NJ, USA (2013) “MAJOR LEAGUE” 2013/06/27
Do you know the story of Mary Hays McCauley nee Ludwig? Born 1754, Trenton, NJ, more commonly known as “Molly Pitcher” the heroine of the Battle of Monmouth Courthouse June 28, 1778. Last time I was there, more than 60 years ago, she was memorialized with a monument, a plaque and the famous cannon she manned when her husband fell ! In the “good old days”, children revered the brave deeds of those who”purchased” our freedom and rights as the youth of today idolize sports figures. That June day was unusually hot, 100°F, it could be called the “World Series of Battles” as it included all the major players, all the stars of both TEAMS ! Washington, von Steuben, Marquis de Lafayette and Gen. Charles Lee ( who really struck OUT ) for the home team. With Clinton and Cornwallis battling for the visitors !! Americans, 12,000 men, British 11,000. The cannon required water to cool down the barrel after each shot and a ramrod swab out ! Water girls were kept busy carrying water throughout each battle , most were wives. Almost half of the casualties were due to heat stroke. In 1822, Molly ( nickname for Mary ) was awarded a lifetime pension for her valor by the Pennsylvania assembly. The victory at Monmouth coming after the crossing at Trenton, ended the larger effort to win in the north and resulted in British retreat to the south, after their escape from Sandy Hook, New Jersey. Molly Pitcher’s Well can still be visited ! How’s that for another homerun for our side ? P.S. General Lee was court martialed as a coward, his “contract” was not renewed, but you guessed that !
IDENTITY ( 2013 ) 2013/06/26
This world’s in chaos, panic lurking everywhere
Compelled to seek an exit safe into somewhere
Seeking hospice for the mind and burdened souls
To find relief for those lost and forgotten goals.
Will there be a pause in time to heal broken rules
For us to learn to save ourselves from mindless fools?
The cure we lack is knowledge of our history
Not understanding what has been or what can be
And so we mask what won’t afford to be revealed
Hence none will query why the truth must be concealed,
Since in this endless questing for reality
We’ve lost the godlike purpose of our destiny.
DATELINE: HOBOKEN, NJ, USA (2013) “AULD LANG SYNE” 2013/06/24
Who is the BAD BOY of poetry? I’d opt for my special love, Robbie Burns, remember to roll the R ! He began writing rhyme and chasing girls according to his own words in his 15th year. Remarkable! Born 25 January 1759, first of 7 children, one of a kind, handsome roue and charmer of words died 21 July 1796. Wow! I’m not sure if anyone has written more verses than he, like an onion one just keeps peeling away layer after layer, you laugh and you cry and you learn ! No fantasy there, simply magic. My personal favorite ” To A Louse “, yes it’s about head lice BUT it’s about a girl he met in church who refuses to acknowledge him and shakes her long curls as she turns away,
Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And set your beauties all abroad !
The light shining through the stained glass window above the pew illuminates the path of her “cooties” and evokes this stunning conclusion:
Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursel’s as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us
And foolish notion:
What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us,
And ev’n devotion !
Just another one of my magic prods, 7 words, ” to see ourselves as others see us”. Can’t beat it right? By the way, the best biography of Burns that I know is by William Ernest Henley ( 1897 ). Sound familiar? Between the bible and the bards, if I had another 100 years, it wouldn’t be enough time to absorb and digest the thoughts and words and ideals to fill my need ! Not so bad for a public high school grad with one semester NYU night school and one year at a NY Art School, what do you think?
ACCEPTANCE ( 2013 ) 2013/06/23
I’ve found one truth in all I do
It makes no sense here without you
My hopes and fears don’t change it much
I miss your voice, your kindly touch
The pleasant joys we two have shared
The happy days we’ve known and cared
To some it is the gentle grace
The glow of peace upon one’s face
I miss your wisdom and your calm
It kept me free and safe from harm
It’s slipped away into the mist
And left me here alone, unkissed.
I’ve learned once more to understand
That life proceeds at best unplanned
Yet leaves us with this last pleasure
Times relived in silent leisure!
TAKE CAUTION ( 2013 ) 2013/06/21
I guess that life may be a mix of good and bad
A challenge of courage with outcome sometimes sad,
While thinking about it in modest simple ways
Let’s pray that we should learn to balance all our days
With care and moderation, cautious as we try
Beware of foolish aims that scheme to reach too high.
We do not wish to fail the last and final test
For in the end who dreams to be just second best?
Keep to the path you’ve chosen and follow ev’ry rule
Abide by all you trust and use each proper tool.
Near to the end be wise, accepting each new role
And thank those stars above you’ve earned your earthly goal.
SEEMS THIS PIECE GOT LOST ALONG THE WAY, ANYONE ?
DATELINE: HOBOKEN, NJ, USA (2013) “BREATHLESS” 2013/06/18
Shall we speak of another poet of whom I know little or nothing about, only the words? R.L. Sharpe, c. 1809, and the poem, ” A Bag of Tools “, beginning with the line, ” Isn’t it strange that princes and kings and clowns that caper in sawdust rings and common folk like you and me are builders for eternity? ” Powerful thoughts and words, ” Each is a given bag of tools, a shapeless mass, a book of rules and each must make ere life is flown a stumbling block or a stepping stone”. Will you know which choice you have made when you approach your final destination? But of course by then, it is too late for correction, isn’t it? Life is about choices, ” The lady or the tiger “! However, another poet of small fame could be Adelaide Crapsey who observed ” On seeing weather beaten trees”, in eighteen simple words, an entire philosophy, ” Is it as plainly in our living shown, By slant and twist, which way the wind hath blown? ” Just the thought leaves me breathless, how about you?
Sincerely,
Claire B.
DATELINE :HOBOKEN, NJ,USA (2013) “ICEMAN COMETH”
Remember the peddlers? Well, I’m still in the 30’s and recalling that bygone era with much affection. Especially the iceman who came once a week the entire year long. We never questioned where the ice came from, much like today’s children who do not query the existence of Wi-Fi. How much we take for granted since Ben Franklin’s experiment with a simple kite in an open field. I think I was about three and we lived on Cambridge Avenue in Jersey City, close to the park on the first floor of a frame building with a wooden porch in front of three large railroad rooms with a shared toilet in the hall! It was just up the steep hill from Hoboken off Congress Street with cheaper rent. It was a very hot summer. If you wonder what “railroad” means think of trains, opening one into another minus wasted hallway space (of course no privacy). Two huge double-hung windows porchside and two in the kitchen, yardside, with wide walls in between, there were large pocketdoors on the front room to save coal in the winter. No bath! Enough said, a huge laundry tub and a folding screen next to the obligatory black iron coal stove with a giant water cauldron over the glowing embers, familiar to anyone? But back to the ice, my dad built a shelf for an oscillating fan and placed an enamel pan with a 10 cent piece of ice on top of the icebox, opened all the windows, and “voila”, old fashioned air conditioning for a dime. No radio, no TV, no online, just the bible, loads of conversation, love, family, neighbors, poverty and ingenuity! Great huh?
Sincerely,
Claire B.
DATELINE: Hoboken, NJ, USA “CLOTHESLINES” (2013)
May I share with you? But what shall it be? Big decision, the 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, I’m not sure where to begin as each era is shouting my name! I remember my daddy making “bathtub gin” and the horse and cart peddlers who sold ice by the piece. And stirring a pot as big as myself set on a black iron coal stove with a huge wooden paddle, boiling my baby sister’s diapers, on a homemade stool built just for me. Of course every yard had a huge wooden clothespole that reached for the sky with giant iron hooks where the clotheslines were tied. But the hooks didn’t start close to the ground for security’s sake, you needed a ladder at least ten feet tall. Yes, there were laundry thieves who could shinney hand over fist up that pole to steal sheets off the line. Those wash lines would occasionally fray and it took a juggler to replace them. My daddy taught me how, I was his only “son”, haha, for nine years which is why I am adept at “hammer and nails”. You listened in bed for the squeal of the pulley in case your neighbors were the victims! All pulleys made a noise, no way to silence them, no silicone to spray them. Most stores and homes had little jingle bells suspended on their entrance doors that welcomed all who came. Old habits die hard, I kept those bells on my doors until I moved to Florida to retire. I have a feeling that perhaps a return to the bell system might inhibit some burglars! Do you think it’s worth a try? Keep tuned, there’s more to follow!
Sincerely,
Claire B.
Claire V. Bogdanos 
DATELINE: Hoboken, NJ USA “NIGHTINGALES” ( 2013 ) 2013/07/07
Tags: Blog, Blogging, Commentary, Memories, Naidu Sarojini, Opinions, Poem, Poet, Poetry, Sassoon Siegfried, Writing
In 1945, I stumbled upon a poem, “Transcience” by a poet, Sarojini Naidu. I was unaware that she was a woman or that she was so very special. However, my hungry mind gravitated to her incredible thoughts and words. In my effort to commit them to memory, I devised a plan by using the first 4 words of each of 3 stanzas and it worked. “Nay, do not grieve, Nay do not pine, Nay, do not weep,” now here we are almost 70 years later and with this single device I am able to recall that piece without hesitation. I find that time has not diminished its value or the consolation it carried in its rhythmic style to alleviate the almost unbearable tragedy of that era and its world impact ! This reminds me of another man of note and pathos, Siegfried Sassoon of World War I, still one more voice in the “wilderness “along with a cadre of others. Oddly enough both of these poets shared similarities, born late 1800’s , died after WWII concluded,educated in England and rooted in Indian culture with a passion for peace. Both deserve your attention and respect ! Please allow me to close with the last 4 lines of my personal favorite:
“Nay, do not weep; new hopes,new dreams,new faces,
The unspent joy of all the unborn years,
Will prove your heart a traitor to its sorrow,
And make your eyes unfaithful to their tears.”
by Sarojini Naidu
And so again, we find another facet of magic words in the hands of “word warriors” not to be ignored. I find myself compelled to think of one greater, the Preacher,Solomon, have you read him lately? That’s Ecclesiastes !
Sincerely,
Claire B.
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