Love and affection Italian Style! 2018 Summer

I was just in Italy and visited Florence, Rome and the island of Ischia off the coast of Naples. I’m traveling with my wife Amy-Liz and my daughter, Izabella, who just finished her semester abroad in Firenze.  We were fortunate enough to be invited to stay with 2 wonderful families in Italy that loved my late dad, Marino (aka Maury). Dad’s parents were both born in Italy, so he was in his glory “con tutto Italiano.”

The first leg of my journey was in Rome. I was greeted by my friend, Pierluigi Grilli, whom I hadn’t seen in 20 years. Pierluigi’s father, Pietro and his wife Lydia were friends of my dad’s. He had met the Grillis through his friend, Dr. Gasto DeCarlo. 

Over wine, cheese and good bread, Pietro, 93 and spritely as ever, talked non-stop to me in Italian. I understood most, but “when in doubt,” I nodded. You can’t go wrong conversing with an Italian if you just intersperse the exchange with an occasional  “ah” or “si”.  And when you finally do say something, throw in “allora”. And don’t forget to accentuate with your hands! It works like a charm. 

Pietro and Pierluigi spoke so fondly of my dad. They loved him and said that as long as we are alive, we are welcome in their home. Try as I might, they wouldn’t let me pay for anything. (Pierlugi said, “the only thing you pay for is your cigarettes.” Wait, I don’t smoke!) I asked how is it possible for them to be so warm and welcoming to me. Pierluigi replied, “the guest is sacred,” and they honor my father by caring for me and my family. The Grillis will never forget how special they were treated by my dad when they came to America. My mom and dad took them to “La Cage Aux Folles,” Little Italy and wined and dined them in our home in Norwalk, Ct. Pierluigi recalled how my father embraced him and treated him as an equal with respect and grace. How this simple act of kindness generated by my father has found its way through the years and now touches my family is remarkable. I love Rome and “the ruins”  and every last “pieta,” but this means so much more. I am giddy with joy to be among good friends.

Wait, it gets better.  On to the island of Ischia near Capri. We had been invited to stay in the villa of Pietro Scotti, another old friend of dad’s. FYI, Pietro is chef extraordinaire and owner of ristorante Da Pietro in Westport, Ct., the place to go for exquisite Italian food. We happened to mention in passing to Pietro at my mom’s recent 95th birthday dinner that we were going to Italy. He said, “you must stay in my home in Ischia. My sister has the keys and will let you in.”  So we thought we’d go there, get the keys, buy food, cook and be on our own for a few days. We expected nothing more than a key under the mat. Instead, we arrived at 9pm on a Sunday night to a throng of sisters and nieces howling with joy that we had finally arrived. Pietro’s sister Tina grabbed my wife’s face and immediately kissed her on both cheeks as if she were a long lost daughter that had finally been freed from captivity. My wife was tucked and held in Tina’s ample bosom for the heartiest greeting I have ever seen between strangers. I was next. (I adore that tradition. It breaks the ice like nothing else.) We were then ushered into the kitchen where an entire Italian dinner awaited us. (Am I dreaming? Did this just happen?) As the food was being warmed up and the wine was being opened, I was so happy I suddenly started singing every Italian song I ever knew. I opened with “That’s Amore” and Maria, Pietro’s skinny sister who spoke no english grabbed me and started dancing me across the kitchen floor. (Talk about an ice-breaker!)

May I just say that the view from the villa which sits atop a hill takes your breath away. You can ooh and aah till the cows come home and you will still marvel at something new. I could have sat on the porch and stared at the mountains and the Tyrrhenian sea for days. 

Our first morning there, Maria left us a basket of fresh eggs for breakfast. Both sisters have their own chickens and rabbits, which eventually make their way onto the dinner table. (Thank God our daughter Sasha, who is vegan, wasn’t with us or she might have let them free.) After breakfast, Tina gave us a tour of her sumptuous garden, abundant with fruit, vegetables and magnificent flowers. The garden is their passion and cooking meals for family is their joy. Where are the husbands? Out working. Several of Pietro’s family live in this little enclave and they all interact and take care of each other. It’s like an Italian kibbutz. Pietro’s wonderful nieces Kathy and Maddalena also took grand care of us. We used Maddalena’s wifi and Kathy gave us a fabulous tour of the island.  They love Uncle Peter (Pietro) and any friend of his is a friend of their’s. It went on like this for 4 days… incredible meals, laughter and new friendships.  And then we said goodbye. Tina hugged us fiercely and when I looked up she had tears in her eyes. Surely this is the power of love and affection. Thank goodness Tina is coming to Ct. in September and we can reciprocate. We plan to drive her and her husband Francesco to visit her cousin in New Jersey. I may try to cook for her, but she’s a tough act to follow. She makes a zeppole that’ll knock your socks off.

Well, if this isn’t good traveling, I don’t know what is. I am humbled by the show of love and friendship the Grilli family and the Scotti family have shown us. Gracie per tutti! And thank you Dad for opening your home and your heart. Your friends are still thanking you!

-Jeffery Passero

Monologue from DINOSAURS

A Staten Island Love Story

(Lights UP, in the bar.)

(JIMMY on his usual stool.)

(To the bartender:)

JIMMY

You know that I almost took Honey to her freshman dance? Back then, freshman dance was as big as, you know, as big as the fuckin’ prom. Girls got their hair done. The guys put on a tie. No suits. Fuck, we couldn’t afford a suit. But almost everyone could get their hands on a tie. I had two. A red and blue one, with stripes, that I got for my 13th birthday. And a brown one I found in my uncle’s closet, after he passed.

(JIMMY drinks his beer.)

What was I sayin’? Oh yeah. If you’re cool at freshman dance, you’re cool for the rest of high school. If you’re not cool at freshman dance or if you, God forbid, don’t go, then you can fuckin’ forget about it. You’re a nobody. A big fat zero fuckin’ loser nerd. Honey came into the shop that mornin’. She had an appointment, not with my mom, but with this other lady that worked there. My mom, she only washed hair. She washed Honey’s hair. Gave her some conditioner that smelled like the beach, you know, like coconuts, for free.  Honey said she was gonna borrow a dress from her cousin, some make-up from her mom. She didn’t need no perfume, she already smelled so fuckin’ good. 

(HE drinks.)

Anyways … I was a junior. I was gonna sit on my porch and yell out at the freshies walkin’ by, ‘cause that’s what juniors do. “Hey freshie! Nice tie! Where’d you get it? The funeral home?” You know, shit like that.

Hey where you goin’? I’m just gettin’ to the punch line.

So Honey’s mom called my mom. She said Honey’s date didn’t show. Fuckin’ asshole. I heard later he went with the biggest tits in the class. Biggest tits with the smallest dick. Still, he had enough juice in there to get her pregnant. They dropped out of school. But I digress. 

So, I went over to Honey’s house, and me and her watched some TV. I don’t know, I think MacGyver. She asked me to stay for Saturday Night Live. 

(JIMMY drinks.)

That was thirty years ago. 

(Lights FADE)

-Kathy Müller

A Love Song

A song I wrote for my wife, performed  by me and my daughter. Video made by my son.

-Oded Gross

How quiet love is

How quiet 
love is
like a flower
easily 
overlooked
stepped on
crushed
but resilient 
it pops up
crumpled 
ready to open 
its petals
to the sun
trusting
once more
waiting
for warmth 
in return

love
so quiet
easy to forget
how precious 
it is
how deep
it lives

—lynda crawford

Mamaw and Papaw Song

Something that has given me comfort, joy and inspiration during this uncertain time is being closer to my grandparents. They are the definition of love and a silver lining to this difficult time for me is being closer to them. We keep our distance on their porch, but it's been years since I've been able to visit them this frequently. They recently told me they brought out their piano and were kind enough to share one of their favorites songs with our community. I hope it brings you some love wherever you are.

-Maggie Horan

There Was A Time

There was a time
When the simplicity of life enveloped me
Summer days were long
And evenings cast silent shadows
Thoughts spread out before me
Like ripples in a quiet brook
Time seemed endless
Like clay baking in the sun
There was a time to think and dream
To breath deeply in the pine forest
To taste sap fresh from the trees
To lie in the grass in the late afternoon
Time to watch the wind sway the trees
To smell autumn leaves burning
Time to caress lips slowly
And watch them glisten as they parted

-Fred Pezzulli

Untitled Poem

Naked branches against the sky - no leaves -
And for a season, a tree stands as dead.
Then, one day, it blooms into glorious majesty,
A harmonious chord in nature's symphony,
And we love again.

-Richard Kent Green

a prayer for now #4                                  

 Even as my body aches for touch,
Today I will meditate on
Those who love me and whom I love.
There is nothing in the virus that prevents my soul from being touched. 

 -Rich Orloff

Sonnet 116

It should come as no shock to anyone who knows me, that when it comes to the subject of LOVE, I'm first inclined to Shakespeare. When it comes to my thinking of his nailing the deepest concept of love, I turn to Sonnet 116, which I'm happy to report, that whenever I've been called on to recite at wedding ceremonies at the appropriate time, "Should anyone have any reason why these two

should NOT enter into marriage", EVERY ONE of the marriages at which I've sounded this sonnet, the marriage has LASTED! Some over DECADES!! And so, my offering here is: 116.

-Charles E. Gerber

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

The Woman who Married Herself

had waited three years for her
bridegroom. She sent engraved
invitations. Sewed her own gown from parachute
silk. Picked roses crimson as birth
blood, a church
reaching right up to God.

The wedding waltz, a bustle of old
satin bridesmaids. Her veil
trailed down the aisle like salt water
tracings abandoned on sand.
The woman gave herself
to herself.
Held her gold ring heavy in her right hand,
slid it down the chosen
finger on her left.

She turned to face her friends:
I do. I take it all
now. My sickness and health, my better,
my worse, both here and beyond
our idea of death.

You are, the priest said,
ah, one.

The crowd standing round
echoed his ah as she cut her own cake
crowned with a porcelain bride.
Drove away in a streamered
car to her honeymoon
house by a sea. Opened boxes of china
so fine she could hold
a plate to the light and see her own
life beyond.

-Donna Spector

Ship of Dreams Song

This song was written as part of the musical Welcome To Tourettaville which was honored at the Kennedy Center. I wrote the script and lyrics in response to my son's struggle with Tourette Syndrome. Daniel wrote all the music. We had the show performed for over 10,000 school children.

I know in my heart that this song speaks the language of love between Mother and Child.

The version here is sung by Shannon McNally on Music for Children Ages 3 to 103 produced by Wardell Quezergue.

-June Rachelson-Ospa

OMNIA VINCIT AMOR?

How do you cope in such a trial?
Try Omnia Vincit Amor?
I was never quite so sure
That I could go that extra mile.

Of course there was my standard rage
That I always fell back on.
Now it seems that too is gone.
Up and left at a crucial stage.

And now is sure the perfect time
To ask all the questions why
They made so half-assed a try
And let this go, a heinous crime.

Love can be like a concrete debt,
One you are blessed to acquire.
Though I'd be an awful liar
To call myself a decent bet.

If Amor doesn't actually
Vincit Omnia anyway,
The debt is still there to pay,
So it's close enough, factually.

 As given how we've been mis-led,
And as debts of love come due,
One thing I'm damned sure is true,
The truth is what we owe the dead.

-James Armstrong 

Suo-Gân

My mother was Welsh. She sang this song to me (it’s the one in Empire of the Sun). I love the words, the sound and how it makes me feel. I sang it to my little ones as a lullaby.

I recently sang it out the window when I heard over 700 souls had perished. Someone joined me - in Welsh no less. Now I love this song because it is the spirit of love that is keeping us going here in NYC.

Ni chaiff dim amharu'th gyntun
Ni wna undyn â thi gam

(Nothing shall disturb your slumber
Nobody will do you harm)

-Emma Berry

ODE TO DOUGLAS

He sat there - in French Roast – a rueful man.
To think, I’m in my 70’s and been
Stood up! He thought. Quite something to reflect upon.
Three thirty was the time they had agreed:
He’d been there since ten minutes after three.
The time ticked slowly by and still she did
Not come. Now fifteen minutes before four.
Ah well, he thought, at least I’ll have
A coffee and a muffin while I’m here,
I’ve quite a-ways to go before I’m home.
Tick tock the clock! Disheveled pigeons
Straggled by outside, the wind blew shriveled
Leaves like rustled paper in the street,
The greying sky loomed mournful over all.
Just after four there was a stirring of the air,
The clouds revealed a hopeful, sunlit gleam,

The birds flew up, wild wings aslant and THEN
The café door flew open – in walked Jen.
I’d like to write he stood, quite thunderstruck with love,
Greeting the radiant vision as she neared,
But no, it didn’t happen quite like that!
She sat, they talked, she saw his eyes were deep,
This is a man who prays a lot, she thought,
Not knowing she was talking to a priest.
He liked her quite a lot, asked for a date,
She’d no idea this man would be her mate!
Arriving home her thought came loud and clear,
I’m going to wind up with a priest! Oh no,
I’m not! She said out loud, defied the thought
Astonished, even laughed, took off her coat.
But see! I’m here today in bridal gown!
And with me is this lovely, darling man
Who won me with his patience, kindness, love,
His luminous intelligence, his grace.
I’d like to raise a glass, then give a hug,
To my new husband, to my dearest Doug!

-Jennifer Fell Hayes

Ancient Form of Love

The Chinese character ai, or love, in its oldest form is made up of two parts: the four abstract strokes - short-long-short-short - that together mean “heart”; beneath a kneeling figure, hands raised, a supplicant. Is it about worship, then, this ancient character, our oldest surviving articulation of love? “The knees of my heart shall I bow”? Or is this a more passionate, interior submission: the yielding of the individual to the desires of the heart? It is a humbling thing, love, either way. Be it a god, a child, a lover, a dream, we are all supplicants in the end - aren’t we? - beholden, volens-nolens. Those brushstrokes ripple down the millenia to my desk, a stand-out among the pile of flash cards. An enduring dance between the power of language that names, defines, controls - and the vulnerability of the kneeling figure, heart laid bare at her feet.

-Gillian Sheehan

Life is Love

The meaning of LIFE is LOVE... To love and be loved. And not just the innate love we have for our children and parents, and our families, nor the found love we have for our friends; but the intimate love we find with another human being. Romantic love. Someone to travel through all the joys, the sorrows, and the complexities that humanity offers up to us. Life is better when you are in love, because LOVE is LIFE....

Friends are great, and really good ones will be there for you most of the time. And the desire to always be there is real. However, if we are being honest, just like us, our friends are also busy building their own lives outside of our friendship. They have their own lovers, children, and families, and are busy constructing a life centered around them; and, while their hearts want them to always be available to everyone in their lives, they don’t always have the time or energy, or resources for everyone. Families are, in most cases, amazing! There exist with them unbreakable bonds. But, they too have lives that can complicate your relationship to them. Brothers and sisters, while always connected on some level, find their own paths, their own distinctive interest, and lovers that they start their own families with. Children grow up, and do the same thing. As parents, we mold them, and prepare them to navigate the world; but, we can’t do that forever. Their paths, and their interest will be unique to them. Those interest will not always be understood by us, which is ok, because it is not for us to understand them - it is our children’s journey at that point, not ours... Our parents will always be a source of comfort for us. Their arms always a safe place to run when it all feels like it is just too much. Even after they are gone, their memories, and lessons, will continue to guide us. But all of that... All of that love, is still not enough...

We also need romantic, intimate love. We need soulmates in our lives. We need lovers. We need someone to travel with on our journey. I know that everyone has their own, personal hero’s journey on which to embark. We all need to take that inner, spiritual voyage to find purpose, and fulfillment. And we should reserve personal space for that quest. But, while that trip inward is meant for us alone, the outward adventure is meant to be shared. Shared with someone who compliments you. Who fills in your voids. Who can see what you cannot see, and show it to you. Who encourages, and helps redirect you when you get off course, and who supports and celebrates you when you are on the right path.

Of course, lovers are not always easy... they don’t always feel loving. And being in love sometimes requires work. But that work requirement is part of the odyssey. It is not only necessary for the relationship, but is essential for our’s and our partner’s personal, spiritual, and collective growth. Hiccups happen for a reason. The universe is telling us that there is a new lesson to learn. A new step in our evolution to be taken. It is in these moments we need our partnerships more than ever. Most of us concentrate only on the good times with our partners, as being the barometer for how successful our relationship is. As being the things, and times that define us as compatible and connected. But they are not. You can, if we are being honest, find those good moments with any number people. But that’s not true love. That is not being vulnerable, and truly opening up your heart, and allowing someone else inside. That doesn’t allow for real growth...

True love is finding, and keeping someone who understands, and looks past, or even embraces our flaws. And, for whom we do the same. Partners who don’t judge each other when they make mistakes. Who forgive each other with ease and with understanding. This doesn’t mean things don’t sometimes get messy, or confusing, or complicated. Or that there won’t be disagreements, or even arguments. The mistake, though, is thinking that these uncomfortable times are bad. Thinking that they are negative reflections of your relationship - or of your love for each another. They are not. They are proof that you are paying attention to each other. That you are being vulnerable. That you are invested in each other. That you are a part of each other’s pilgrimage through life. Obstacles are almost always necessary gateways to the next stage in our evolutions.

If we run away from these obstacles. If we ignore them. If we hide from them, we will never evolve. That is why we search out our life-mates. Our lovers, partners, muses, supporters, agitators, annoyers, and comforters... We are in an ever-evolving state, which is why we need that one person to always be there with us. Guiding us, and pushing us; but also supporting us, and sometimes just holding our hand through it all. Being in love requires, even demands, all of these aspects of engagement. We have to give and receive joy, but we also have to push each other’s buttons. All the good, and the seemingly bad have to exist. It can’t be all good, and it definitely can’t be all bad. But, our progress, as human beings, needs all of these ingredients to make, and keep us whole. All of us, like life itself, are made up of all of the darkness, and all of the light in the world. You can’t have one without the other. You need the darkness in order to really appreciate the light...

So, we search for those people. Those lovers. Those partners. Those soulmates. And the universe helps us. It wants us to find them. It will put us in each other’s paths. That doesn’t always mean we see them. Or if we do, that we accept them. Trust is probably the biggest obstacle for all of us. Curious though, because I think our natural instinct is to trust. Especially trust our hearts. It’s our minds that get in our way. Our minds that have been polluted with skepticism, and fear. A cynicism that is fostered by others who have forsaken their own quest for true love. Friends and family who are jealous, miserable, and bitter. Influencers, like writers, filmmakers, musicians, etc... who do the important, but often misunderstood work of creatively sharing stories of heartbreak, heartache, and loves lost. Misery loves company, and so many potentially beautiful romances have been torn apart by the guidance and pressure from miserable friends and family.  And not just them. The modern world, in general, instructs us to cut and run at the first sign of conflict or discourse. It tells us that only the good, peaceful, joyful, non-confrontational  aspects count; and if anything else ever rears it’s ugly head, we should run, because there are so many fish in the sea. We cannot trust these sources... we cannot trust the jaded, suspicious, pessimistic, and disillusioned. We cannot trust our minds. Our modern minds have been programmed with cynicism. Our first, mental, instincts have become ones of mistrust. We are suspicious of everything, even acts of kindness, or generosity. We have been trained to believe that everyone has ulterior motives. So, if someone offers us love, the first thing that pops into our minds, is, “what do they really want from me? How are they manipulating me?”. Of course, these fears are only exacerbated  by our own, natural paranoia, which is cultivated by our own self esteem, and self worth issues.

Again, this is why we need a partner. A partner who understands, and accepts our flaws along with our virtues. Someone to stands by us, and helps build our self esteem, and self worth. Sometimes this is done through the tough love of, non-judgementally, pointing out our flaws, which can seem confusing, and even hurtful. But, if you are open to their purpose, it shouldn’t be - we have to trust each other! To accept someone in your life, and be vulnerable enough to allow them to really see you, requires trust. Not an easy thing to give, or receive. However, without trust, we cannot be vulnerable. And without vulnerability, we cannot find true love. The essence of life is love, and the essence of love is vulnerability, and essence of vulnerability is trust...

Love doesn’t just happen. We have to be open to it. We have to allow it to consume us. We have to be willing to risk being hurt, and feeling pain. We have to trust that the pain is not only temporary, but is a necessary part of our evolution. But, in order to do that, we have to believe that our lover, our partner, our soulmate is essential to our cause. That we need them, and that they need us. That we provide each other with something no one else can. Not friends, nor family. Without that trust and belief, we are doomed.

We are doomed to a stagnant life. We cannot evolve and grow without it. Without all of it - Friends, family, and a soulmate... We were not meant to be stagnant. It is offensive to our very existence. Against our nature. We are meant to keep growing, evolving, and moving forward. And while our hero’s journey is to look inward, and self reflect, and find our personal path; that is only our spiritual pilgrimage. Our earthly journey is meant to be shared.

So please be vulnerable... trust your heart, not your mind... remove fear, skepticism, and cynicism from your life... don’t let the people not willing to remove these things, influence you... Fall in love, and love with careless abandon... Don’t misconstrue  times of confusion, and pain as defining your relationship - instead accept them as stepping stones to a better understanding of yourself, and your partner... and when you find someone who wants these same things, and is willing to be vulnerable with you, and to not judge your flaws, and to risk everything for the same connection you are risking everything for; never let them go... never let the cloudy days, and rainy days, and trudging through the mud days distract you from what you know is true in your heart. Your mind is the enemy of love. Listen only to your heart... and be alive, because Love is Life…

-Blayne Perry

The late Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler,asked, “Do we give to the people we love, or do we love the people to whom we give?” His answer:  “We usually think it is love which causes giving, because we observe that a person showers gifts and favors on the person he loves. But there is another side to the argument….A person comes to love the one to whom he gives.”  To foster love, he taught, be generous: Extend what you have in your hands and in your heart toward other human beings. Love will grow along the lines of your giving. “That which a person gives to another is never lost,” he said. “It is an extension of his own being.”  --- Alan Morinis -

Alan C. Breindel

 I caught a tear between my fingers, along with a grain of sand. Sadness, happiness or histamine response? It occurs to me to roll them together, soon a pearl glistens and strikes my heart with a gift, a jewel a dissonant chord.  It is so beautiful, I want to make more, a strand, a lasting memory, of love, many loves, many loved, like a string of pearls, clean, fresh, salty, soaked. Full of life, strung out, strung together, forever safe with love, from both sides now. I feel safe knowing we are together. Love is like that.  Pearls. From a grain, spun to exquisite form, with meaning, with humility, with grace. 

- Lissa Watson

DAY ONE: A LETTER

My love,

Today is probably really hard. Whether I said goodbye to you at your apartment or mine, or even the airport, this is the goodbye that I’m dreading the most. I may have even cried (crazy, right)? Tomorrow will probably be really hard too, but I think it might get better. And hopefully, this jar has just enough of me in it to last you until I get back. Wow, hello sap. I’m gone for 116 days, and you have 110 slips of paper in the jar, and 6 letters. One a day, no cheating! Since I will be gone for 116 days, here is Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116. It’s one of my favorites. I know that it seems like a long time, but I think it might fly by a little faster than we think it will, especially since I plan on talking to you as much as I possibly can. I’m sure we’ll be texting in between you reading this letter. Making the jar was really hard for me, because I spent hours ruminating on how much I love you, just to keep remembering how much I will miss you. But I know that we will make it work. I believe in you, and us.

Yours,

Emma

Neighborly Love

When your neighbor texts there is a package outside your apartment door, and you find a delicious chocolate chip banana bread she baked and wrapped to perfection! -

-Laurie Graff

At 7 We’ll Cheer

Through days full of worry
And days full of homeschool
And Zoom calls
And fear
At 7, we’ll cheer

Through days full of laundry
And cleaning and cooking
And laughter
And tears
At 7, we’ll cheer

Through no toilet paper
Or Clorox or flour
Through budgets
Austere
At 7, we’ll cheer

Through caring for family
And praying they’re healthy
When you can’t
Be near
At 7, we’ll cheer

Through binging on Netflix
Or binging on baking
Or bourbon
Or beer
At 7, we’ll cheer

Through feeling so lucky
Then feeling so guilty
To still just
Be here
At 7, we’ll cheer

To fervently hoping
That when we can finally
Re-enter
Our year…
At 7, we’ll cheer

-Tracy Newirth

Front Line Love

Going to work to take care of people, even though you’re scared you might bring it home to your own family, is Love.

-Pat Pytlak, RN in Rochester, NY

Thoughts in April

I love
what happened
each moment
in
the theater
before…
Before now
Before this
Before fear
forced us to be
someplace else.
Now
I sit
in my house
in my room
in my box
in another state.
And I know
I have no right to wish
to hope
to dream
for anything more
Because I am safe
and I am lucky
and I will make my way back to the city
I love.
And plays do
arrive here
in video squares performed well
with
two-dimensional faces
and
voices of tin.

But I remember before when artists
and audience
thrived each night embracing ideas
in a real darkened space that they
shared in the moment.
We’ll meet
collectively again
to explore
and imagine. Someday.
When we can.
And when we do…
We should
aim the
spotlight
towards each other and share who we are and say what we learned and dance on the stage and live
in the magic
we will surely create together.
When we finally
step out
away from the loss away from the news towards
something brand new we’ll find
beauty there
and joy
and wonder
and love.

-Liz Amberly

With Apologies to W. H. Auden and W. B. Yeats.

Actors in the Covid Time
Give me here a bit to rhyme.
In a time in need of love,
Grab the bounty from above.

Take the Shakespeare off the shelf.
Learn again the depths of self.
Grab some Chekov, contemplate
How we may confront our fate.

If O'Neill you chance to find,
To his darkness please be kind.
Ibsen's calls for more freedom?
Once again we do so need 'em.

If you have 'Ol Tennessee,
Give some love to Blanche for me.
Miller's poor Willie Loman?
If not now, then oh please when?

Please go ahead and read Shaw.
Humor has a higher law.
Something French to clear the air?
Peut-etre Monsieur Moliere?

Please do spare me from your curse,
If in spinning this poor verse,
I neglected some of those
You would rather I had chose.

So much love I'd like to show
For those that here unmentioned go.
Limits of both time and space:
My excuse for this disgrace.

In this time of rage and fear
Hold the precious oh so near.
Sing of love, a song of praise,
Till we reach some better days.

-James Armstrong

Old Poem, New Photo

First, an old poem of mine I like enough still to remember (though not its title, if it had one). Second, this photo of 30+-year love (observing social distance).

-©Michael Gnat

Knock knock
Catechism time.
I asked you before and you answered with silence.
I'll ask you again.
I love you.

. . .

Would you please repeat the question?

Letter by Frank Wood

I am hearing more hate and no love or reason in my voice when we listen to the radio sitting up in bed with coffee and crossword display on my laptop and I cannot imagine the leverage it will take to topple the mound of lies and openly-embraced sins that have piled up, as I imagine it, on our bureau where the radio sits: motherfucking deep deep asshole. and whatever stick or plastic household appliance that rests at hand will never be long enough or strong enough to wedge itself under the mound and above the hard-plastic Bose sound system that also emits voices of the brave and the free . So I try to imagine what it would take to make a difference: choreography with Kay and videos of same to dancers at home with their parents, donations, meditation with Kay, time on the phone, dinner for three and a movie during which we pause to review the confusing parts to an older man who is still catching his breath after the visiting nurse- angel from Senegal- has changed his bandage and provoked again the nerve- endings in his foot, and we have a red velvet cupcake from the neighbor’s oven that only I want and so get all to myself! and Andrew Cuomo has morphed into Mario and at least puts a nice bow around the awful facts so you can carry them somewhere and in your own time untie the bow and take them out of their box and consider them like toys on the floor of your playroom. And hate is back again and so I think I better get busy helping somebody beyond these four walls. NYCares left its address in my inbox. Michelle Obama wrote a book and Anton Chekov several plays. I am going to read them and do something.

Love,

Frank

Grammy

My two grandmothers, who I feel incredibly fortunate to have in my life, celebrated their birthdays in quarantine. Since we weren't able to celebrate with them in person this year, we surprised them both with video calls. The result was pure happiness, joy and disbelief that technology has come so far. Grammy was particularly impressed to see our family from Santiago, Chile was able to join, and kept asking my grandpa "How are they doing this?!"

-Nicole Palermo

Acts of Love

A shouted catch-up visit through a closed window is an act of love.
Carefully Clorox-wiping each yogurt container is an act of love.
Making masks from your late grandmother’s unused quilting squares is an act of love.
Holding ourselves together is an act of love.
Sharing margaritas over skype is an act of love.
Desperately trying (and failing) to convince my 80-year-old mother that a swish of vodka and a cigarette between in-person therapy clients won’t protect her from being infected is an act of love.
Walking, and always yielding, in the strangely unchanged park (Spring still arrived) is an act of love.
Sharing seder over zoom and praying together that the plague will pass over is an act of love.
Letting go of last year’s sadness that the kids would never live at home again - because they’re here now, for a terrible reason, but it’s still miraculous and sanity-saving - is an act of love.
Counting blessings is an act of love. But the blessings being given by those who are doing much more than counting, those who are risking, feeding, healing, protecting families other than their own, those are greater acts of love than any small, tribal act I list. The Talmud says that the act of saving one life is equal to saving the world. This is what they are doing, over and over, each day, and every single one of their acts is an enormous act of love for us all.

-Dana Leslie Goldstein