Brooklyn's "Rooster" poll

Prospect Heights Brooklyn - Cataldo's is behind the van

Brooklyn's "Rooster" poll

It's a world I've little experience,
Vito's and Salvatore's old world Sicily
of simmering sauces, brick oven pizzas -
where classic marinara and meatballs
compete for attention beside Penne Alla Vodka
and stuffed artichokes.

My mother was a traditional American cook:
roast beef, casseroles, Friday night TV dinners,
the dreaded stuffed green & red peppers.
We sisters quarreled over clothes,
but seldom swore, never hit.
Males were few; no brothers.  Cats, dogs,
goats, horses, chickens - mostly female -
alone strutted the noisy, opinionated rooster.

Sitting within Cataldo's warm, red bricked,
closely seated interior, I watch the lunch crowd
amble in:  blue collar men - construction, security guards,
road assistance - is my guess and I'm reminded
of the farmyard cock of my youth.

Chests don't puff and wings don't flap,
but arms and hands do half their talking.
Boisterously joust, punch or slap a back,
compare prowess on video games,
spout political views - Trump's their man...
and I'm taken aback.  The primaries have just begun
and Donald's ...

I look closer.  Calloused hands. Sincere hearts
(I can tell these men are Mama's boys)
and a bravery that underlies words.
I may be projecting stereotypical ideals,
but dedication and honor from men such as these
are often first to march off to protect hearth & home.

As a salty Margarita tingles my tongue,
I smile as the waitress sassily reprimands the crowd
(who apologize swiftly),  and absorb this nostalgic
Italian diner, (feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland)
and ponder if I've glimpsed the future.

by Margaret Bednar, November 17, 2016

linked with "dVerse Poets Pub - Open Link Night #184"

I keep harking back to this memory ...  I adore NYC - the diversity of people and languages, the mix of white and blue collar, the food (the FOOD!) the parks built by Frederick Law Olmsted...  I love visiting.  But the first time I visited two years ago... it was a bit of a culture shock - not in a negative way but just a LOT to take in.  Even now, I am happy to stay a week or two and return home to my mountains.  But I'm always soon longing to go back to visit my son and the big city.

The lunch at the Italian restaurant has been ingrained in my mind.  I realize most of these men most likely did not go to college, are hard working men - I overheard some were working two and three jobs - they supported people in need - I heard them talking about a fund raiser for a buddy who had hit hard times...  compassionate, boisterous, loud - and men who love to laugh and swear.  I couldn't help but adore them - and they were voting Trump.  

"The Rocking Chair"

The Rocking Chair

Tonight's lavender sky and golden hues
of speckled, dancing light have lured me -

find me comforted within curved back
and double scooped seat

as wooden floorboards hypnotize,
rhythmically soothe -

and I, wrapped within knitted afghan,
cradled in memories and fanciful thoughts,

sigh.   I could sit here forever.

by Margaret Bednar, September 22, 2016

Linked with dVerse "Open Link #180"

"True Genius"

King Lear, Act 1, Scene 1,  Edwin Austin Abbey - and my son, the actor

True Genius

It begins, Act 1, Scene 1 -

comedic or tragic; the best have both.

A pinnacle role: youthful, manic, valiant -

it doesn't matter, other than a willingness

to toss comfort aside, embrace passion

which will vanish upon final curtain fall,

and a desire to carve an everlasting mark -

not so much for acclaim, but for truth.

by Margaret Bednar, March 2, 2016

You are invited to Listen:  https://soundcloud.com/margaretbednar/true-genius


Linked with "dVerse "Open Link Night #167"

"Time"

Silhouetted by Times Square

You're invited to listen:  https://soundcloud.com/margaretbednar/time-1

Time

It's as if I'm looking through a keyhole,
the two of them silhouetted against a future bright.
One looms large, admired, fedora tilted over one eye.
The other?  Innocence, unaware of flaws in his hero.
Youth demands attention; I make excuses,
my heart tender, understanding both as only a mother can.

If only the hero can comprehend,
for a moment look down, truly see how similar they are.
How once he filled my minutes and hours
with words.  Does he remember I listened?
Know I still thrill with the wonder inside him?

Youth needs a hero and he's been chosen.
My youngest and oldest;
boy and young man upon a threshold.
Hero can lend a guiding hand, provide a key
for frontiers yet to be explored.

Worship won't last forever - nor should it.
But the honor, for as long as it is offered,
is a gift few ever receive.

by Margaret Bednar, January 27, 2016



This is for "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Bits of Inspiration - Keyhole" hosted by Susie Clevenger. (and will be posted for participation at Midnight, Jan 27th)

Also linked with dVerse Open Link Night #166

Had a fabulous week long trip to NYC - stayed right next to the Empire State Building.  My daughter was interviewing to drama programs at colleges - already accepted into 2!!  Decisions have yet to be made.   We enjoyed the closing down of the city streets due to winter storm "Jonas", enjoyed numerous Broadway shows and had a lovely day at "The Metropolitan Museum of Art" with my oldest son.

My oldest son loves his younger brother dearly, but often does not understand the importance of spending time with his younger sibling - how much it means to my youngest son who truly is excited every time his older brother's name is mentioned...  Both are highly creative, talkative (I mean TALKATIVE) and highly enthusiastic - and they can wear one out.  I wish my oldest had a little more patience for his younger "mini-me".

Empire State Building