TIME TRAVEL

TIME TRAVEL

TIME TRAVEL

Look into a stranger’s eyes
what – three dollars for a
bottle of water – fifty dollars
to park the car

a bed with a partial ocean
view – out on the deck -
twist to your left – bend
forward - look

1954 – lucky if you found
a motel for four – two
single beds – no one
searched for bed bugs

no one had wheels on
a suitcase – holding a
brown tweed hard case
popped open all the time

now - even if the cost
continues to rise – most
fly – bags are measured by
the inch

this one slightly slips
through the hole, this one
has too much packed on
its’ side

that one – not a carry on
as you shove your purse
inside – forgetting what
you packed, and where

by mistake the medication
was placed inside a bag
costing fifty dollars more
to ship –

you had to toss containers
into a trash - thought
extra would pass the
guard - complained but

no one cracks a smile,
or cares about the cost -
when all you needed was
a slightly larger zip

lock bag - shoved
one hundred dollar
face cream into a dollar
store container -

men never fill plastic
bags - remember room
numbers - or care if
they see the ocean -

took no time to pack
or cared what they had
to bring - probably
never unpacked 0r fought

over a top drawer in
one of those over priced
hotels -

where we go it doesn’t
matter – it’s when you
leave or come back –

still see a twin engine
as propellers were
gaining speed - flew
close to the ground

too young
to care

now a family spends
hours in front of a
computer screen – to
find a deal so they

all can travel to
some far off
destination
driving first four

hours, paid higher
prices for gasoline -
frantic as they run
into the airport

paid to park a car
for the entire week -
booked an early flight -
bareky make it -

could it be so much
better - flying to a
destination where bed
bugs still congregate

1954 - waving good bye
you were on the tarmac
no guards, no police -
only a free feeling

wind from
propellers –

dreaming of your vacation
where – it never mattered
when, one day it would
begin

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

BIRTH OF A SON from book "What Brought You Here?"

Birth of a Son

It took a little girl
to wipe my forehead
It took a little girl to place
a cold wet cloth
on my face,
a little girl to squeeze my
hand, and reach up, to touch
my face.

It took a little girl to fluff a
tear drenched pillow
beneath my head.
A little girl who sat patiently
at the edge of a feather bed,
before the screams - before
Papa left between contractions.

PaPa peeked through a door-
way – had his child been born?

It took a little girl to heat the towels
and place them beneath by back,
It took a little girl to rub my feet,
and place white porcelain buckets
at the bottom of my bed.

It took a little girl to help me push
and she stared and wrinkled her nose.

A little girl whose eyes were
filled with tears, ran to the window
announcing you were here.

“What Brought You Here?”
page 45 – 46
Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

ONE CAPSULE in the FOREST

One Capsule in the Forest


a single tree
breathes in the forest

a benign tumor.

bacteria wiped out
the mountain.
a fungus spread from
limb to limb

sparing one single tree

a capsule for a new
beginning,
the cordial for a forest.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

NAILS IN PALMS

Nails in Palms

Can you guide only a few?
Some must suffer so –
some - must feel nails once
punctured into your feet -
your palm’s.

Are we really here for
a reason – can we help
a stranger and would
they listen? Can we tell
a friend you were – here
will they walk away –
laughing?

When sickness comes
they look up – at who
we do not see – but
learning – yes there is
a bright light - you
send others back – to
push them home. . .

Must have felt nails in
their palms – nails hit
so hard – pain . . . will
never leave.

Your home felt nails
but not built with human
hand’s, yet you believed

a reason, learned –

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

GENIUS

GENIUS

(Lately a group of us on line at Got Poetry on Facebook have written one minute of less poetry, so here is one to share with you.)

I write it
to you -
genius -
on the inside,
but more like me
on the outside

I tell you,
but you know it -
you are a genius
I'm less than
you are -
on the inside

suddenly it grabs
it feels as if I
don't belong -
will I disappoint
you?
will you hesitate
from the outside?

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

SHADOWS ON A CRYSTAL BALL

SHADOWS ON A CRYSTAL BALL

first a cloud
of light in
your vision - like
smog covering a city
on a humid day. . .
it's disease

eyes closed
at night
pulling shades
of yesterday
a dream revealing
a picture of a
coming storm

words vanish on
paper -
shadows on a
crystal ball. . .

disease - restless
now, as the eye
of a storm
passes in night

thunder -
lightening
strikes - wires
snap as wind
rips into darkness
destroying light

someday -
perhaps tomorrow. . .
a desvastating
storm - severe
enough to erase
light
forever


Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

CEMETARY PARKING LOT from book What Brought You Here?

Cemetery Parking Lot

the space near the front
door - near push
carts - near blue
light specials - near a
lady from the salvation
army, ringing a bell -
swinging a red bucket,
half smiling, tilting
her hat - half smiling -
near double doors -
at the front entrance to
K-Mart...

I want to wait inside
our car - where a
cemetery surrounds
the hospital on the hill,
behind garbage bins -
near employee parking
where you can smoke.
I want to wait inside
the car while you
purchase paper towels,
toilet paper, garbage
bags, soap, and fabric
softener.

I wait in the car play
with the crank out window,
slip my fingers over
the steering wheel -
feel where a horn plays
music, feel a knob
which turns on wind shield
wipers - a knob -
to twist for headlights -

I wait in the car - remove
my shoes, toes touch a
brown - thicker - carpet
you replaced after you
spilled paint from a
hardware store.

I wait inside the car -
blow on windows draw
stick figures on glass -
blow on windows draw
houses, balloons and
cats.

I wait inside the car,
cover my legs with your
old navy blanket, rest
my head on a padded
arm rest - close my
eyes....

And, I wait inside the
car - falling asleep -
listening to a bell held
by a half smiling lady
near double doors -
opposite the cemetery
where you were laid
to rest.

Nancy Duci Denofio
from book "What Brought You Here?"
published by Dystenium 2010