Showing posts with label Rick Wilson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rick Wilson. Show all posts

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Love Poems Among Roses - For Mariko, Kathabela and Rick

Poets at St. Valentine's Day - Evening of Poetry and Roses

On St. Valentine's Day, February 14, 2017, poets gathered to read love poems and celebrate the love of  Kathabela and Rick, alovely poetic couple.  The reading was held at the "Rose of Roses" Exhibition at the Back Door Bakery and Cafe in Sunland, CA (8349 Foothill Blvd, Sunland-Tujunga, CA 91040, near the corner of Oro Vista). We brought together a number of poets who graciously shared their work to be posted on this blog.  


After everyone settled in with a glass of wine, or fresh orange juice or a cup of organic black tea, the poets presented their work, surrounded by rose photographs and mutual affection. It was a celebration of love of nature, love of friends, and ... love of good food, as it turned out later in Lois P Jones humorous improvisation... 

Their poems were woven into a narrative with my love poems that provided a rose-colored thread through the evening. I posted some of these poems on the previous issue of the blog, including the title poem of the exhibition, the Rose Garland. Here are some more poems, starting from the beginning. 

1. 

It all started with love –
a sudden burst of feeling
blinding me to everything
but you

dolcissimo, con amore

It all started in hope –
a shy expectation
that one day you’d come
and we’d dance

misterioso, con gioia

It all grew in faith –
your faithful presence
making love, our love
possible


pianissimo, con felicità

Maja Trochimczyk from Rose Always (2011, this book was withdrawn in 2018).




The musical expressive terms in my poems (the Italian words in italics) are a great connection to the musician-poet-ballerina-teacher Alice Pero, who is not in many photos since she had to leave early due to her teaching duties.  Her poem, "In My Perfect Landscape," was set to music for soprano, flute, violin & piano by Los Angeles composer, Carol Worthey. Windsong Players Chamber Ensemble will premiere the
work on February 26, 2017 at Eagle Rock Covenant Church at 4 pm.  

In My Perfect Landscape


I took you in my acres green
through long summer's yawn
and found you in the leaves unfurling
waiting in the dawn I'm making
Can I see you in that perfect tree
caressed with interlacing green?
A spot of you in sparrow's throat
in radiance of sun gleam
blending me with over here
in my loving eye


(c) Alice Pero. First published in Thawed Stars.




Another Sunland poet, Pamela Shea, was inspired by the spring, and new love. She actually wrote the poem on St. Valentine's Day morning. So it was the freshest poem heard... 


Rosebuds and Lovers

The bud of a rose
Layer on layer of petals
Held tightly, perfectly
Unfolding when the time has come
Bursts open and a flower is born
Releasing sweet perfume

The heart of a lover
Layer on layer of emotions
Trembling, hidden, waiting
When touched by the beloved
Bursts open and a poem is born
Sweet music fills the air


02/14/2017 ~ Pamela Shea

It is unusual to find love haiku. Deborah P. Kolodji, a haiku master, wrote several love haiku in honor of Mariko and Roger, and two of them are reproduced below. They were read at the couple's wedding earlier this month (alas they divorced soon after, so it is a bittersweet memory).

Deborah P Kolodji reading love haiku


scent of rose petals
when your eyes
meet


sunset
over the water
first night

(c) 2017 by Deborah P Kolodji


Rick Wilson, Mariko Kitakubo and Kathabela Wilson

The lovely bride herself, appeared at the reading in one of her hand-made wedding gowns, this one with rose petals all over the veil and the tulle of the skirt.  Mariko Kitakubo read her wedding tanka sequence with Kathabela Wilson, accompanied by Rick Wilson on the flute, since Roger was sick and could not come in person. He was with us in spirit. The wedding love sequence has already been submitted for publication in a journal, so it cannot be reproduced here. However, Mariko graciously sent in another love poem, another tanka love sequence of great sensitivity and beauty. 



Out of Portland

is there
a rainbow
on the bubble
of my Autumn life?
Silver Waterfall

I have
someone who enjoy
my home cooking,
I miss this natural pleaser
for those fifteen years

Dragonfly Cafe
a wing on your latte
I sprinkle a heart
of cinnamon powder
on my cappuccino

I made
your favorite Inari-sushi,
even though
you 3rd generations
can't speak Japanese

heavy headache
pulse on my temple
from downstairs
the sounds of you
making me soup


(c) 2017 by Mariko Kitakubo



Mariko and Maja at the Rose of Roses Exhibition

Mariko scattered some rose petals on me for this double portrait under a soft pink rose. We also shared the "food of love" theme, as I read the following poem.





Not Aspartame

You are my daily dose of sugar
Refined
From tall sugar cane 
That gently bends
In life’s winds 
Reaching for the sun
Drinking in the soft 
Rain of my love

Startled by the whir  
Of the hummingbird’s wings
While it dips its beak 
In the scarlet cup of a hibiscus
I sweeten my day with 
The thought of you 

I remember 
                        The golden glow
                                     Of morning light 
                                                        On your skin 
             The bright halo 
                             Surrounding you 
                                                      On my lawn  
              In the rainbow 
                                Of sprinkler mist
                                              I saw the chosen one
                                                                       My beloved

It took generations 
To make you - what you are
You alone know who you will be 

When I see you 
in my driveway, again -

(c) 2014 by Maja Trochimczyk, published in Vol. 62 of San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly.



I had a funny cake above my head as I was reading this, displayed on the screen with shots of cakes, cookies, breads, and yummy dishes served by the Back Door Cafe... Lois, too, was reading under an assortments of culinary delights, so she started her set with an improvisation, rhapsodizing the love of the spaghetti and custard... Everyone laughed heartily, nourished with good humor and joy.



Ending in Red

We wind our way past yucca
and other signposts of loneliness. 
On the path, abandoned benches
peek through dappled leaves.  I hear birds
without names sing to no one.  Green hurts
this close.  I can feel where you are
and where you’re not.  Late blossoms,
means late fruit.  When we reach the apples, most
have fallen but we press their memory
between us. We will not bring home buckets this time,
just a wind that exhales cider
sweet, delicious.  The sun ripens
into an Etter's Gold.  We hurry deeper
down the path.  With oaks this barren,
exposed, it's not easy to keep quiet.  I read
your thoughts--rust, orange,
flaming and lush, the wild berries
you want to stain on my tongue.
You will never know how I wanted
to say you, down the long road,
before daylight disappeared. 

(C) Lois P. Jones

Romantique, a climbing rose 

I wrote the next poem this winter, just after the Winter Solstice, as a gift that was well received... in its passing beauty. Still it may shine with true love, one day.


Winter Solstice

Remember, I’m not your girlfriend 
I am your interstellar wife
You are my interstellar husband

We meet in clouds above clouds, 
above violet sunrise.
Hand in hand, we float into infinity.

We hold paired spheres 
of brightly polished copper 
and glowing amber, smooth as honey –
for harmony and balance, 
in body and soul.

We become stronger, 
more aware each day.

Affection explodes 
into twin flames 
dancing through galaxies, 
tightly intertwined,
round and round, beyond. 

Ascending into the crystalline whiteness
above star orchards, we pass through
swirling, fragrant blizzards 
of dogwood petals and cherry blossoms.

Crowned with timeless jewels
we are the most serene 
prince and princess
of interstellar flight.

(c) 2017 by Maja Trochimczyk


Mariko and Kathabela among the stars...

Love as "interstellar flight" among galaxies in my poem.... but it was Kathabela and Mariko that found the stars in the Back Door Bakery and Cafe.  Kathabela's poem, a beautiful wedding gift was also already promised to a journal and cannot appear elsewhere. Instead, Kathabela sent the following, tanka prose, commenting that it is "a very special one I wrote inspired by the amazing rose garden in Nagoya, Japan that we went to last summer." So hers was a bouquet of roses from Japan, for a Japanese-American couple.


Maja, Mariko, and Kathabela with event's poster among the roses.

Carefully Wonder *

We bloomed. He plays a double pipe by the waterfall of roses. He pulled out the stops. Lapis Rose. Cobalt Rose. Jellyfish Rose. Hulusi Rose. Mariko Rose. Maja Rose. Mariko Rose. Rick Rose. 

he plays up and down
with a shakuhachi
he says yes
the tone deepens we flirt
like statues in the rose garden 

(C) 2016 by Kathabela Wilson 

* Carefully Wonder ~ these words were on a marker naming one of one of the beautiful rose varieties we saw in the Rose Garden in Nagoya, Japan in May, 2016. The other names came to me from the many beautiful things we experienced on our trip, and it was as if I could name roses for them! Now I have added some name to the list of roses to be named, I think we should be able to name roses for everything, everyone we know and love. I think this little story (tanka prose) has the spirit of both couples. At the time, Rick and I felt this special moment, and now, Mariko and Roger, also. It was an honor to read Roger's part in Mariko and Roger's wedding sequence at your wonderful Valentine rose exhibit event, Maja. As if all the love, near and far were together in that room and voiced in all of our poems.)


Kathabela and Rick Wilson with Mariko and Debbie




I do not even remember for how long I have been in love with Giovanni di Paolo's illuminations of Dante's Paradiso. The gold circles, the visions of heaven as a river with naked saints jumping around the reeds, the resting place of a white rose with saints and angels asleep on its petals, the glowing gold spheres of the planets, the sun, the Empyrean... what a fantastic flight of imagination. Way better than Gustav Dore's crowded and restless angels of the 19th century... So here's my love poem "after" Il Paradiso, and yet another cosmic flight of ecstasy in love that is always there and will never change. 



A Revelation After Il Paradiso

We live in the third sphere
of lovers, in the Earth’s long shadow
Our love waxes and wanes 
like the Moon, or Venus rising up
before dawn, the star of the morning
We oscillate from darkness to brilliance,
float from fear into sunlight
to rest on a golden afternoon 
in the innocent warmth of affection 
among newly planted roses
Imperial, Electric, Compassion
Double Delight and Simplicity roses 
in our garden where we trim dried, twisted 
branches of old oleanders to make room 
for orange blossoms and more pomegranate
always more pomegranate
never enough pomegranate 

Dark red translucent juice stains our fingers
Tart juice bursts with flavor 
in our mouths, ready for kisses
always ready for more kisses
softest, childlike, strongest, tasting 
like the wine we never tasted, the dream
we never even hoped to dream about
escaping the long shadow 
of the Earth on a golden afternoon 
lovers in the Garden of Love
afternoon in the Third Sphere of Venus
golden, golden, sparkling golden 
afternoon from another planet


Peace Rose


Mira Mataric with the love card, and poets at the Back Door Bakery and Cafe

Love was in the air, and on the oversized card that all the poets signed for Mariko and Roger - "All you need is love" it said on the outside and "I love you" inside- but we changed the "I" into "we" and wrote best wishes for the newly married couple. They came to this place in life unexpectedly, and late, thinking that the "season of love" was already over for both of them.  That's one more reason why our love poetry reading felt so tender and kind - an unexpected gift to all of us, from the universe of roses...



Dr. Mira N. Mataric of Serbia and the U.S. has experienced decades of poetic love-making, as she mentioned that the first poem she read was written in 1955, before most of us were born!  And she was already in love.


Mira N. Mataric

Love Diptych:

First Love

It is not crimson red
but light pink or blue
like Picasso' s paintings

smells like snow and early violets
tastes like insecure hope
making you feel like
singing in the shower.

Last Love

Not passionately red
it is reassuringly warm
like the autumn sun

It smells of verbena
tastes like the soothing
herbal tea

making you feel like
a tired river
finally
reaching the sea.


Mira N. Mataric

Love and War

All is allowed in love and war
I never accepted never practiced
that philosophy

you said
you would not come and conquer
stay and use what is not yours

but you did just that
in the name of love

you shared not what was freely offered
but all available resources

basking in victory and power
you ignored a slow leak
then a steady flow
of love leaving the conquered

the weak and trapped hate the conqueror
hate is weakness love is power
in my heart-land freedom reigns

evacuate peacefully you have lost
there will be no bloodshed
the world has already had
too many.


Dorothy, Pauli, Pam, and Dick read their poems, humorous and tender, in turn. If they send them in, I'll add them to this blog, if not, we will end here, with another love poem of mine... 

After the reading, resting among roses

74.

I found myself 
in a perfect place

I laugh to tears
and I like what I see

After the broken pieces 
of the Devil’s mirror were
washed away from my eyes

There’s no torment here, 
no limits, only the infinite
glory of becoming one 

With the Universe, one with 
the Divine, stumbling on my way

No anxiety, no desire –
I live right here, right now

Thank you for the key
that opened the door to Paradise – 

Serene, fearless, I’m wholly 
and whole made of love

Fireman Rose

The Rose of Roses Exhibition is in view at the Back Door Bakery and Cafe, 8349  Foothill Bldv., Sunland, CA https://www.facebook.com/thebackdoorbakery. The exhibition will be on display until the end of March 2017. I'll be there on February 25, and 26 in the evening. 

Monday, March 14, 2016

Poetic and Musical Farewell to Endre Dobay, Susan's Bandi

Endre Dobay with Susan Dobay's painting Musicscape

On March 12, 2016, poets, artists, musicians, and friends gathered at the Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia for a farewell and memorial event dedicated to Endre Dobay, husband of eminent Hungarian-American artist, Susan Dobay, and co-owner of the Gallery.

The invitation said: "The versatile, talented, kind, compassionate, humble, husband of Susan, father of Vivian and Andrew, and the grandfather of Geoffrey and Mathew has moved to another dimension.
A mechanical engineer, a family man, and a supporter of all art forms which he respected and loved . With his wife artist Susan he was the proprietor of the Scenic Drive Gallery."

Portrait of Andrew by his mother, Susan, print by his father, Endre, with Jean Sudbury's violin
Photo by Maja Trochimczyk

Endre's prints of his wife's works and of the works by Kathabela Wilson were on display along with a selection of exhibition catalogues that he created for Susan. The artist also selected some family photos and those from among her paintings that were Endre's favorites. Guests brought flowers, poems and cards, some handmade, some carefully selected to express their appreciation for the many gifts of Endre, our Bandi.



The poetic and musical afternoon started with Jean Sudbury, violin, and Rick Wilson, Hungarian folk flute, performing a selection of music to set the audience in a nostalgic yet celebratory mood. Rick accompanied the poets throughout the reading, and Jean played more pieces that would have gladdened Endre's heart. Penelope Torribio accompanied herself on a guitar in two songs; Pauli Dutton sang away to the accompaniment of a red ukulele, and poets shared their reflections about this "kindest of men."  Some of the poems are reproduced below, with permission of the poets, to honor the memory of a silent, thoughtful, and kind man, loved by all.


For dear Bandi, a Prelude

youngest boy
middle child of nine
sent to family
for the summer
when I grow up,  he said
“I want to be a guest”

he was the best host
he welcomed us
with his eyes
took my face
in his hands and filled
our glasses with love

I send a thousand noisy kisses
out into the universe
for another hello

Bandi I could  only write a prelude
an overture
to the opera you loved
an opening act of many
I wish to write for you
it is all we can do in this time of ours
our many beginnings--

there is no end to love
to this romantic story
how we are always only starting
to learn our lines
yours to us, ours to you
"we are so fortunate
to have you in our lives!"

~Kath Abela Wilson
your “Katika”



Endre Dobay

by Pauli Dutton

Susan’s mom started it all
when she noticed the young man
she asked him 
you not like my pretty daughter?
why you not ask her to dance?

the handsome college boy
took the young beauty
in his arms 
their waltz began sixty years
of acreativelove filled life

when she turned 19
Endre and Susan married 
daringly the twoleft 
their homeland to walk
across the Hungarian border

with other refugees they 
took a train to Austria
the pair settled in the states
where Endre worked as 
a mechanical engineer

Susan says Endre
could build anything
with her inspiration
they built a home
for their family and the arts

the Scenic Galley
has celebrated sculptors
photographers, writers
painters and musicians
while host Endre poured the wine

Susan was the motor 
that kept Endre running
through every new
creative project
they complemented one other

Susan the artist found
loving support through Endre
photographer/printer
the sound wiz helped her create 
new forms of media

their joint visual
interpretations of music
can now be enjoyed 
by all on youtube
thanks to Endre

Endre we know you continue
to watch over Susan 
as your love still fills the gallery
we hear your echo asking
would you like another glass?


 Bandi and Susan listen to a reading by Just Kibbe, Monrovia, 2012


Bandi

camera suspended from his neck
gentle brown eyes search the room
to catch light and shadows
arrangements of colorful art
and us -- his friends
he had many

by Erika Wilk

Jean Sudbury, Kathabela Wilson, Endre Dobay and Maja Trochimczyk, 2012


The man I did not know

    ~ for Endre Dobay in memoriam

I did not know the boy –
That tall, serious teen, always reading
Books, or fixing bikes of local children

I did not know the man –
What happened?why he left his home 
Who died? … I did not know
The man who fell in love, married, 
had children –  a son and daughter. . . 
All in the new country,  in a new house, 
Nested on the slope of a magnificent mountain 
Where bears wander down the streets
And take baths in neighbors’ swimming pools, 
Where mocking birds, sing away tunes 
Stolen from car alarms and clock chimes, 
And birds sometimes sit quietly in the branches 
Of the old hibiscus outside the kitchen window
Watching him work.

Yes, the charming one – his eyes spoke volumes 
Even if his mouth did not move
Except for that hint of a smile in the corner –
Yes, I knew Susan’s husband
Silent, supportive, quietly amused
By the poets’ antics.

I knew Bandi of talented artist’s hands, 
Deep philosopher’s insights. I remember him
Watching over us, filming dialogues, 
Seeking goodness , beauty, truth –

Now he found it and we lost him for  a bit, 
Until we find our own goodness and beauty
In the everlasting truth – when we join him 
In the light that draws us nearer 
As it drew him into that brilliant column  
Stretching straight up into heaven 
Taking him higher, higher –
Into the constellation of the blessed

© 2016 by Maja Trochimczyk


Bandi and Susan attend my presentation at the Wilsons' salon, December 2011

I also read my poem inspired by Susan's painting "City Whispers" from the "Awakenings" project of Poets on Site. I got a print of that painting made by Bandi and it is on the wall in my house.  The poem with an image of the painting, published in "On Awakenings" book edited by Kathabela Wilson is reproduced in my Easter 2011 post. 



At the end, I read my participatory poem, "Repeat after me" with a revised ending. I reproduced the previous version of the poem on the blog from this spring, from a reading with Beverly M. Collins at Phoenix House.  http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2016/03/black-history-month-at-phoenix-house.html


Daffodils, tulips, roses and lilac for Bandi and Susan


Almost the last to arrive and the last to read was poet and light-giver Susan Rogers, who wrote out her poem on a card with a drawing of the tree, as strong and solid as Bandi was, an oak or a banyan tree with deep roots in the earth and the branches reaching out to heaven. 

Poem by Susan Rogers, with her drawing of a banyan tree.

Collection of photos of Bandi assembled by Susan Dobay.


For more photographs from the Celebration of Life event visit my Picasa Web Album: 

Finally, here's a report from the Celebration of Life assembled by 
an artist and musician, Penelope Torribio and published on YouTube:




Poets at Madame Butterfly event at the Scenic Drive Gallery, with Mariko Kitakubo, Photo by Endre Dobay, 2014


Thank you, Bandi!