ALMOST LOVE JO MARIE VICTOR
CONTENTS POETRY 1971
3
Delores Avenue
4
Metamorphosis
5
e Molestor, in Disguise
6
Seasons
7
e Season of Christmas
8
Wounded
9
“Care Figlia”
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Cardinal
11
Control
12
Kat Dancer
13
e Letter
14
A Celebration
2
15-16
A Beginning
17
Figure Eight
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A Kiss for ee
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I Heard a Man Cry Today
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e Bastard
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e Wall
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e Misfits
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Time
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What is Love?
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A Gift from God
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All Alone
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Assessment
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Stardom
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ALMOST LOVE
1971 He calls me to him I respond within him He makes me feel love When I’m afraid to love He makes me cry When there are no tears He makes me see my faults When I am afraid to see them. But most of all He makes me realize Who I am.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
Delores Avenue Let the earth be your kneeler, And the sweet air carry your memories. Open the secret passage at leads to Delores Avenue. Open it to your needs And never despair— For fate made the observations Now your mind must see you through.
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ALMOST LOVE
Metamorphosis A metamorphosis occurs. e personality stagnant with Childhood perceptions. Lack of identity— A Contemporary Headline for the fortunate. An excusable escape. I bring to you the current. As I bow to those who walk Tall Or so their titles tell them So. I carry my identity in my invisible Briefcase. Everyday the same material Walks with me. No power, no title, just me.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
e Molester, in Disguise Dirty is the word in print To be erased for sure If as easy as the tool at hand For certain is the memory at rips away the innocence of youth. It tears and strips the undeveloped and vulnerable mind Of all that is safe and sound. e molester with his disguise and mask of gentleness Preys on his little victim And ignites the sinister savage selfish beast Until the devil’s deed is done. Fear not all that have been penetrated by evil Your soul remains intact with no blemishes to see So go forth and love.
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ALMOST LOVE
Seasons Follow the seasons rough time. Soul Survival— Settlement of Oneself. Around. Around. So we love the Smell of Spring Oh does the sun Shine—full of Intensity, Bright the connection Of Light I can relate even To those months. Now I truly awaken e leaf falls on My nose Autumn opens me So ripe, so desperately Ripe. Turning with the Wind I start again.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
e Season of Christmas A starry sky in a scintillating night Protective moon reflecting bright Magical crystals blending the mood For a perfect winter night. And now the season begins Where lovers love Where children sing Of Santa Claus and wonderful things. Mistletoe, holly and candy canes Children peering through windowpanes A day of joyfulness and merriment is is the season of Christmas.
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ALMOST LOVE
Wounded Disillusioned, Despondent To Despair of Unknown Reasons. To Love, to Fall and To Love Again. Lay the Knife at My Wrist— But my Blood Would Not Make em Cry. So, I refrain. I know e Glory of the Sun I Cherish the Universe And all its Graces as I feel e Creator So True is Saint omas Aquinas My Lesson in Philosophy Prevails. e Cut is immeasurable I am not a Leader Or a Queen Abdicating her rone. But ere are Answers. If Only Freud Were Here To Tackle my Brain As I row Away Conventionalism Approaching the schoolyard.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
“Care Figlia” I felt the crack of the teeth against the railRoad track. e blood was warm against the lip. April rains had made the ground softe embankment was steep, and I had slipped, And tumbled. My father had been playing his Sunday game of Solitaire. Christ! I did not mean to upset him so. We had been told so many times not to play there. Welts covered my body. I lay in fever, shaken and Weak. I always think of that dayMy father quite handsome My mother, loving and speaking softly in an Immigrant’s tongue. After I married she would write “Care Figlia, Baci- Addio-tua madre.” e Handwriting was fluid, and beautiful. How everything has changed. We have lost all graciousness, all our joy For life. How can I ever again say softly to Anyone – Addio e bi good. --is piece is written and contributed by my mother, Josephine Bastiani
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ALMOST LOVE
Cardinal Scarlet red. Break the stillness of an ordinary day. So bold, so confident, I quickly confirm his presence. Yes, it is he, perched erect and taunting me to glance Red feathers magnificently infuse my windowpane Smooth silk greets me with a crown and a bow. Act swiftly I must, for like beauty he will be Gone.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
Control Were we born with the mechanism of Mental strengths? Why must we get close to feeling the Cold ground before our loneliness is Captured and understood? Of course there is choice Unseen tension prevails Gray hair that sheds no color Always almost perfectConfidence Our society demands perfect smiles For perfect people Do we occupy all of our space? What will the papers say when we all Blast o? It was a perfect takeo!
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ALMOST LOVE
Kat Dancer High noon approaches e sun is beating my body Sweat is falling from side to side White and drained like cool sand at Twilight. Cool green forest Damp smooth silk Leaves dancing on my flesh. My Kat Dancer As I think of who you are Let me feel the root between me I act of vulnerability Reality—I want your attack. Ride me with defiance Ride me hard Make me bleed, sweat, and come through For you. Jump me in your momentum Take me down with you Carry me with your fingers and hold My mouth with your lips.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
e Letter Perhaps, if words were neatly typed, I Could read them clearly, and not feel the Emotion of the letter J swirling in the Ink. You say you were educated By Jesuit Priests, severe and strict, and yet I see e passion of the chosen words. I have never received such a letter. I Trembled at the date, the letterhead, the Contents were short. About twelve sentences. You said, “All we have to do is get in tune With it.” “Everything has a rhyme or reason, And so, take care.” e letter has been put away this morning. I touched it again—I felt the pain. You never mentioned the word love, but it Was seared into and under words, their meanings. You have given me strength and discipline. I tucked the folded page back into the green Envelope. I will not look at it again.
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ALMOST LOVE
A Celebration e laborious Fourth of July A celebration, A holiday, A chance to rest. e day unfolds with my mother by my side. Our culture, our gender, our generation, tell us to work; To work until the job is finished. e ingrained ritual of working is done silently. Military-style, we chop, slice, and dice the food. at alone fills the kitchen with familiar noise. We talk at times, but it is limited. Conversations about food and the preparation of food is e only talk on the menu. We stare at the clock knowing time is of the essence. Men and children are with us now. ey are busy, but never frayed. ey are never interrupted, nor can we seek their assistance. ey have a schedule only known to them. Quiet, agreeable amongst them as the day unfolds. ey are content with our placement, our solitude, and our work. Preparation begins for the finale. A signal from the men is given to begin the barbecue. Red white and blue hue for the day is displayed. e women and children quickly appear on deck like sailors ready to set sail. ey acquiesce. Silently, we act showing a smile here or there just to be polite. Did I mention the children have joined us? [Stanza break] 15
JO MARIE VICTOR
Obedient they must be, and obedient they are. ey are welcomed back by their fathers, their uncles, eir hands are clean; they are rested and ready to be entertained. For the reward is worth the wait with fatherly attention given to all. e children are adorned, and little girls laugh out of sheer happiness. e women nod with approval, and watch while they work. One may close one’s eyes and listen to laughter. All in all, it is a delightful scene. Finally, the moment has come to celebrate the Fourth of July. e women are anxious that the food be well received. e recognition goes to the tasty meat, and talk surrounds the big juicy steak. e women again nod and confirm, “Yes, the meat is tender, the timing was perfect.” Everyone is happy, satisfied. e children eat voraciously. e women smile and enjoy the moment. For it is truly only a moment for them. Yet, a moment of praise and joy is enough to last until the next celebration. ey begin to work with the next course, the next course in their minds. Mentally, they prepare. e scene changes. e night twinkles in unison with children looking up to the sky. e women rise up and go to their places. Once again, another holiday, Another celebration. More dishes.
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ALMOST LOVE
A Beginning Subconsciously my mind filmed that day. And as sound discovered movies, I Included the warmth of the Sunday Sun. Blue sky with conversation in its skyline e water visible, demanding as It sucked me in creating a thickness around my Legs. Precarious, Precious Position Beginning. So spontaneous pleasure I uttered not a word. Penetrating softness on land— Conversation begins.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
Figure Eight Eight straight was the number chosen for me Not too high, not too low, just a curvaceous figure eight Why would anyone want or need more? Who is given a ten? “Never me that is for sure.” e cards just don’t land in that pile at is OK—that number has emptiness to it. Straight and oval with no character Never changes, always the same e eight twirls, weaves, teases, and forms a perfect magical figure of one.
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ALMOST LOVE
A Kiss for ee Strangers until our lips met So intimate yet oh so very new As the hunger of the moment grew Every movement advanced our desires So soft the lips when they are ripe So permeable in every way ey are the entry and the hope of more to come “So little time we have,” I say Push in my tongue and wrap me in your cave of love For my thoughts have left me idle to your needs Still our wishes explore the goodness of our bodies Your hands swirl around me like a blind man’s Silk is my dress, or is that your touch on me? If I move I may lose the awareness of my being You, who I did not know, Now I know so intimately. Let nothing come between us at this time For my stranger is now acquainted It is all it can be for me e lips are so soft on mine. I look and kiss and move so free And oh such love can only be A kiss for thee.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
I Heard a Man Cry Today I heard a man cry today e emotion resonated within me His pain poured tears of vulnerability and sorrow I did not know this man… It was only his grief I was introduced to We are so fragile as humans, yet so strong in our effort to live Divine grace must hold us together For if not, how will we pass the day?
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ALMOST LOVE
e Bastard I am a lady in love But you, my Lord With your furrows and grimaces Have driven me to Bombay Gin.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
e Wall Flushed up against the wall Framed for exposure A descent, a rise Together as one A full throttle exposure And then it was over Except, it wasn’t e plunge lingered e moisture emitted residue of connectivity e shutter closed Picture captured.
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ALMOST LOVE
e Misfits So many of us in the world Some of us know who we are from the start And others only know they are misfits. We are not all ugly, stupid, or poor We have no pigmentation. We struggle to get out, and beg to be let in We look for hope while we search for seclusion We are cold, we are hot, and we are always alone Different are the black sheep that run away Grazing on the grass not knowin’ tomorrow. Some try to find us, some we try to find. We are our own beginnings and conclusions Our beauty is ours until we are found Some drink us up, some we drink dry. Cast us away if you must My misfit has been mis-fitted one too many. My mold had been molded one too long. We are fits of mankind, and always fitted to God.
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JO MARIE VICTOR
Time Time has no allure to me Neither the past nor the future is of consequence I breathe in the moment With no expectations but the possibility to be free I am vulnerable to all that may happen And receptive to the abstraction and surrealism of time Is time relevant? Perhaps I think too much of Dorian Gray Yet my narcissistic nature has harvested an imaginary crop of youth With no lines other than an occasional shutter of realism Will the self-transformation last? A concoction that only love can claim. A metaphor to sustain until the end Time has caught up to me Perhaps I will resign to it My heart (for now) cannot let go Time has no voice or sound or credence. Yet I hear the tick and the tock with every breath I deliver.
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ALMOST LOVE
What is Love? What is love? Has the definition been discovered? Has it all been written? Do I have a chance to explore its meaning? Can a word or phrase exist to give homage to it? It really doesn’t matter, as he has no need for my love I throw myself to the cruelty of it with no alternative but to love the love It is like tilting your head to the sun, feeling the warmth, but it fades with the day Or the gaiety of the moon, and stars with the lights turned out, and the face a frown. Yet, I so want to tell you that I love you. So I have said it I will put the words back in my pocket so only the wearer knows the truth Passages of time have healed, yet such a pity for passion So alone it must be My own poetry excites me It guides me to a fluid crescendo. I hear the echo of my voice read the verse like it has been said to me With an accent on the emotion and truth in thy soul What is love? e art of being in the universe with an inner secret that never dies Like heat so hot you want to melt in it With your body full of want where all that is tangible, feels sensual Passion that lives within like a rollercoaster at its highest peak Tears are ready to soften my face and take the sadness away What is love? e meaning need not be All is to all, like love can only be Leave it alone, for now it is mine I will never say again I love you 25
JO MARIE VICTOR
A Gift from God He is me My Gift from God So the character seems All of my weaknesses so transparent All my strengths he knows not how to be Yet he captures all that love strives to ensue His goodness hidden in man’s vulnerability May God see this too and release not an angel; But a person to be For those that live their love only in their hearts May he and all his glory shine
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ALMOST LOVE
All Alone No head to cry on No tears to fall onto "So what," you say Empathy is overrated We adjust We walk and breathe alone We, the dubbed aicted or victim We keep our pain hidden We dismiss our tears We aim not to disturb you Please forgive our weaknesses Man is fragile Just love us
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JO MARIE VICTOR
Assessment She told me I was just assessing life. Oh what a revelation that was to me And I thought I was merely dumb and deaf to man! I had no voice. I had no opinion. I had no friends. I had an inner voice and was afraid of that too. I went through rooms in darkness that shed brightness I was ignorant. I could not comprehend. No intellect Or so the results showed. I understood the possible metrics of failure I had no identifiable beauty. But I knew life I had an abundance of emotional intelligence e butterfly was changing e chameleon was emerging.
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ALMOST LOVE
Stardom ey capture the night like soldiers, quietly descending on their chosen territory for attack. ey are prepared for flight and take their position like ballerinas on a stage. Every space was occupied. Confident in their allure, all different in size and brightness. ey are ready for their move and beckon your eye to follow their direction. ey illuminate and transcend magic into the earth. ey swirl and dance and shoot their being into the night. Gaze up and down and all around until you see the movement. Cry into the night for their creator. Laugh too as there is goodness for all to see. As we look up, let us see the magic of the sky in all its glory and mystery.
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END