A Captains' Talk

To own a boat is significant,
It is not at all like a house.
A ship is a real thing upon the water,
Whereas a house is fixed to land.

Have you watched a ship sailing,
With its sails set and full?
A house does not espouse glory,
With chimney, and smoke blowing.

A sailing boat has a horizon
As its ever changing panorama.
A house has a door and a few windows,
And sometimes even a little view.

Besides, a boat is owned by a sailor -
A true Captain of his own domain.
Whereas in each house resides a wife,
Whom we've learned to call "Admiral".

 


Sailing Dialogue

You should sail a ship.
Off!  To the far horizon!
And learn a new love 
That will always be true.

What is wrong with my old love:
The tender sweet kisses held dear
Within the soft warmth of my bed.
I do these comforts enjoy.

You will feel the warmth
Of the morning sunrise,
With only the blue sea
Reflecting it's golden glory.

But, what of waves and storms,
And the cold darkness of night?
The wind can fiercely howl,
And the seas can tower high.

This is the life supreme;
Away!  Far away from it all.
Nothing to do, but enjoy -
The solitude of sailing.

There is so much water in the sea!
More than I can imagine!
Perhaps, I'll sail another day!
Today, "Sweetlips" is baking a pie.
'Boundless' Sailboat, Captain- Thomas Duffy
"Boundless" Sailboat, Captain- Thomas Duffy

Captain Tom

It is the horizon he seeks,
Venturing from safe harbor,
Endeavoring to meet the challenge
Of the open seas with its surprises.

The sun may shine bright
And the breeze may blow steady.
Or, it could be a nor'eastern
With all hatches battened down.

The Captain of a sailing ship,
Weathering the storms and tides,
Crossing the vast bottomless seas,
Seeking a port to drop anchor.

With three score and ten years,
It is the joy of adventure,
The challenge over the horizon,
That forces this sailor to hoist sail.

Now, upon the bridge of "Boundless",
The wind will caress his face,
As he wears the Captain's hat.
Let all say: "Bon Voyage Boundless!"
 


LORD OF THE SEA

Take me to the sea,
And let me sail away
Into the ocean far,
Into the eye of the storm.

With a boat underfoot,
The sail bellowing full,
And the decks rolling.
The wind is mine - to command.

Free at last, spirit - fly!
Let the breeze blow true.
Let the wind blow hard.
The horizon is mine.

A sailor in his boat
Is a "Lord of the Sea".
Sail on!  Sail on!  Sail on!
Until the last sunset.


 


Boundless Journey Sea Chanty

Stow the lines and rig up the yardage,
It is time for "Boundless" to set sail.
Pull up the anchor and tack from here,
We're going to sea, all hands on board.

The voyage is long, the sea is stormy,
We'll point to the wind and lower the sail.
The waves are big and the ship is small,
Our radio is out and the pump is clogged.

The wind she blows, the mast is now gone,
Our fuel is fouled and the water is bad.
So!  Row!  Row!  Row my sweet crew!
We'll be home in a day or two.

The sun is so hot and my thirst is great,
There is no shade in this wide open sea.
So!  Row!  Row!  Row my sweet crew!
We'll be home in a day or two.

Where is the land in this ocean of blue?
There must be some land somewhere out there.
So!  Row!  Row!  Row my sweet crew!
We'll be home in a day or two.

Thunderheads are moving toward us,
And the sea is getting choppy.
So!  Row!  Row!  Row my sweet crew!
We'll be home in a day or two.
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Philosopher In The Crow's Nest

It is the fear and the terror
That I seek when I sail,
Far off into the blue sea,
Where danger is ever present.

Can you imagine that I 
Would sit on the beach,
And watch the ships sail away
To the unknown and adventure?

Oh!  The excitement of a wave,
Crashing down upon the bridge,
Or catching you broadside,
And rolling you bottom-up.

Talk about adrenaline pumping,
And riveting yarns of the sea.
You "Landlubbers" know nothing,
Of the dynamics of the sea.

Where do you find your thrills?
In the arms of some sweet thing,
Or in the comfort of a ship's berth?
A better thing - to be a sailor.

 

Beach Smile

If I could walk on water,
I would sail more often.
But, I did try to endeavor,
To walk on water once.

I was without success,
And, I sank below the sea;
Fortune lifting me on high,
And washing me on the beach.

I seek no more the thrill,
Of sailing far and wide.
I walk the beach and smile -
Feeling the sand beneath my feet.
Maverick Wave, Photo by Charlie Witmer (2012)
Maverick Wave, Photo by Charlie Witmer (2012)

"Maverick Trilogy

"Maverick"

This is the story of "Maverick",
The biggest, most treacherous waves -
On the North American continent:
The Mount Everest of waves.

The long winter storms shift energy -
From the winds of the north, 
To the water in the ocean,
And the journey begins toward land.

At Half Moon Bay in California,
The perfect shelf and reef exist, 
To create waves five stories high.
We call them "Crocodile Waves".

The best of the best surfers converge.
They travel from around the world 
To ride the snout of the crocodile:
To defy the wrath of the gods.
 


"Titans of Maverick" Wipe-Out!
(Ken Collins - 2016)

"It felt like two tons of water on me.
I was being pushed down to the bottom."
"Water was going inside of my head,
Down my throat.  I was going to die."

"I activate my inflatible vest.
It pops open and I rise rapidly.
I see the sunlight surface above.
I pop through, gasping for air."

A Maverick wipe-out can kill a surfer
As the water holds you down with crushing force.
It disorients you and you are helpless.
Without oxygen, it is over in minutes.

Only in Half Moon Bay in California
Can you ride a "killer wave of death".
A wipe-out is a death defying experience,
If you survive, life becomes a greater gift. 

 


The "Titan of Maverick"
(Nic Lamb - 2016)

"Today is not a day to be cautious."
The waves of Mavericks are fickle in nature,
They push up from the shelf below the surface,
Rising over sixty feet within a few seconds.

It is the wave that you must catch to ride,
You descend from a raging monster of churning water,
Straight down the face of death and destruction,
Holding board steady, riding the "pipeline" of life.

 To be in the "tube" is key to survival,
It is life to ride within and exit again:
Conquering the waters crushing force, 
Coming out alive and ready to ride again.

The winner of the "Titans of Maverick" must nail it.
He is the best of the best surfers in the world.
This is not a game nor even a contest, more it is.
It is life and death defying triumph to ride Mavericks.

 
 
Maverick Surfers, Photo by Charlie Witmer (2012)
Maverick Surfers, Photo by Charlie Witmer (2012)

 

Beach People

Beach people are more free.
They find their life not tiring,
Always but a frolic away
In the waters so deep.

Perhaps it is the expanse
Of so much that is beyond,
That allows them to see 
That all is not important.
 




Riding Monster Waves
(Rodrigo Koxa, November 8, 2017)

I rent a bungalow in Nazare. 
It is a small fishing village
On the Central Coast of Portugal.
I am here to ride the biggest waves.

They slowly rise out of the Atlantic.
Substained winds of thirty kilometers
Push the water along until energy builds.
The crests can be as high as twenty feet.

The waves run toward the coast
And suddenly drop into a deep canyon.
The drop and rise escalate the energy,
Creating monster waves eighty feet high.

The waves break and thunder onto shore.
Riding down the front of such a wave is terror.
One fall, drops you below tons of water,
Which will push you down and crush you.

Tragedy and death ride the wave down.
Exhileration or a terrible death are the stakes. 
"You have to go straight down." only one chance.
Down you go...the blackness behind you.

"I am running for my life."
"I've never gone so fast on a surfboard."
"I'm in the shadow of the wave, propelled."
"I'm going to outrun the monster... and live."


(World Record: height: varified 80 feet.)



 
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The Big Island

I have need to get away -
Away from this routine,
To a place near the sea,
Where the waves relax me.

I'll fly to paradise
And watch the girls go by,
Below Diamond Head,
As I lay on the beach.

The crashing of the waves,
As the surf meets the beach,
Is music enough for me
To enjoy my beach sojourn.

Perhaps, I'll get lucky,
And find a girl to frolic
In the waves with me this day, 
Or in the bed this night.

 


Cool Grapes

It was new and exciting,
Together for the first time.
We had traveled a long way,
To a bed by the sea.

Before we went to bed,
We walked along the beach
And bought some cool grapes,
For that night's delights.

So long and so often,
We did that night love,
Holding and not letting go,
While we liked it so.


Pattaya Beach

This beach resort I like,
On the Gulf of Siam;
Palm trees and horses,
Elephants and sails.

What a delightful place
Where a frolic is near,
 In the arms of a woman,
Or in the depths of the sea.


Pattaya Dining

Crickets performing in concert,
As the sun sets over the Gulf,
At this place, so far away, 
Where I have travelled to hear the quiet.

Fishing boats sailing into darkness,
Soon to catch their night's haul.
The sound of waves lapping,
Heard at this restaurant on the beach.

Soft classical music plays,
The atmosphere is sedate.
An artist-traveler owns this place,
His paintings reflect his wandering.

I am the first patron this night.
Others soon sit down to dine.
The wine is cool and refreshing.
The food is to be enjoyed.

I will be off to a dancing place,
Where the music plays too loud.
The women, they will move too much.
This night, I will seek loving heat.

  


Cambode Girl

I met her on the street,
She smiled at me so sweet.
This girl dressed all in black,
Her teeth flashing joys to come.

I laughed at her beauty,
Soon we were holding hands.
To a club by the sea, 
We went to drink and dance.

Together our bodies moved,
Catching the rhythm,
Finding the night's mood:
Feeling of love to come.

I took her to my bed.
We undressed each other,
 And began the last dance:
Moving to our pleasure.


 Francois

A young girl from Paris,
Visiting the beach of Siam.
A chance encounter one night,
Talking and being together.

She pretty and petite,
Now wandering alone.
Her mind and nature strong,
She moves toward romance.

This I do like of her,
That she reaches out for life,
Moving at her own pace -
Finding me to share a night.

 


Women Of The Orient

I like to watch their faces,
These girls of the Orient.
It is like watching history,
To read the stories in their faces.

The Orient has known much
Of man's intermingling.
The girls, it is easy to see,
Reflect what has passed before.

One slender and youthful,
Another blooming in fullness,
This one looking of intrigues,
The last a rogue from the past.

There is something different
In the way of these women.
They seem more sure of themselves:
Accepting life's dictates with grace.


Monsoon Girl

Dark-skinned girl,
Diving into the pool,
Looking too strong
For a girl so young.

I smile invitingly:
She sits and we talk,
Soon drinking a beer,
And swimming together.

The sky darkens quickly,
The winds start to blow,
The clouds roll low.
Soon, the rain will fall.

I invite this girl
To come with me.
Together we shower,
Washing each other.

Soon we kiss warmly,
I taking her hand,
She making love to me -
To the rhythm of the rain.


Siam  Songs

I do not know her yet,
But she warms my soul
With her clear singing,
Reaching within life.

Perhaps we'll soon meet,
And share a moment.
She sings of romance.
I think of love's touch.


Love Dance

The night's last dance,
We made love in.
She giving freely,
I wanting her.

It excited me.
She knew that was so.
Soon we must leave,
And touch our toes.
Image


Sipping

Scotch and water
Is my warm drink:
Sipping my drink,
Warming my mind.

Finding a dream,
Looking for life,
Not caring why;
Fate laughs with me.


 


Tapestry

Surely she is from before:
A turnback on the past,
Once gracing a King's wall,
Recalled in tapestry.

Still young and beautiful;
She now sings of romance,
Knowing not of crooked paths,
Being new to fate's touch.

I would like to touch her,
But how would this help?
A touch does not reveal
All that has passed before.


Meeting

We smile at each other,
Seeing in each other's eyes
That there would be more -
Almost as we had met before.

Perhaps, this meeting will bloom
Into the romance I seek.
She also seeks of love,
Her smile beckons me on.


Rowena

It is the lilt of her voice:
Up and down, always sweet.
The range takes me afar,
To where the songs began.

She has the power to capture,
To turn my eyes in tenderness.
This young girl I know not long,
But she has me in her circle.


Captivated

A girl-woman is she:
Lush and full of this life,
Swaying sometimes too much,
Enjoying the men's looks.

As she dances with me...
She presses softly too close,
Knowing my blood burns hot:
Then she coyly turns away.

Though her flirting I like,
There is more I will have.
Boldly moving after her, 
I seize her as my own.
Image


Buddha's Delight

Buddha has been corrupted:
The Thais bring him gold,
But the Americans have discovered
His most pleasant delight.

Each night, they leave him
A Mai Tai tasting sweet.
He empties his great goblet,
Before clapping his hands.

His contenance brightens,
His smile enlarges,
His beams radiate,
Before he drops off to sleep.


 


Mambo

All enjoyed the last dance.
The girl kicked off her shoes,
Digging her toes into the sand:
Her sexuality on display.

All stopped to watch her dance;
The rhythm her showcase,
The music her vehicle,
And her body in full bloom.

The mood was felt by all:
The girl catching the feel,
Making it her music,
All enjoying this last dance.



Mountain Climbing

The top of the mountain is there.
It pulls you toward its summit,
With the danger ever increasing:
One storm away from eternity.

Yet, climbers attempt to summit, 
They attempt the challenge above,
To risk all in their mountain climbing,
To stand on top of the mountain.

Life and death are your companion
As you climb a world class mountain.
To feel the storm raging is to know fear.
To bury a friend is to address your mortality.

Yet, human nature demands a task -
That only a few can accomplish.
To summit a peak and stand in glory,
It is an achievement as never before.

 

Cold Sweat

I will never forget those moments.
I was driving my Austin-Healey,
 A beautiful white convertible.
I was going skiing in the German Alps.

It was a cold snowy bright morning.
The sun wanting to break through.
The snowflakes swirling all around.
My wake was a cloud of white.

The road went up and back down.
It was hilly, but very straight.
I lost control on the slippery ice.
A spin began as I sped down the road.

Another vehicle crested the hill top,
Coming straight down on my spinning car.
I thought I was finished.  I saw the end.
He slipped by, my spin half way completed.

As I spun up the road and crested,
My car turned straight down the road.
Gently, I touched the gas and caught traction,
Sweat glistened on my cold young forehead.

California Treasure

The Mount Everest of forests!
The densest bio-mass on earth!
The grand dame of the Pacific Coast!
So stand the tall redwood forests!

These two thousand year old giants stretch
From the Oregon borderlands south,
Along the rugged Pacific coastline,
Meandering down to central California.

They grow no where else in the world
In a mixture of rich soils and streams.
Watered by coastal fog and Pacific storms,
These regiments of redwoods tower.

Some say they reach to the sky.
But in truth, they are high enough,
With many higher than a thirty story building,
And hundreds of years of history in their rings.

Their magical bark resists fire,
And the ravages of insects and venom.
A break in the bark exposes living tissue,
From which a new sprout will germinate.

The redwoods absorb carbon emmissions,
The underlying streams provide nursuries for salmon,
The habitate is parkland for our leisure.
They present nature in all its glory. 

The trees, with healthy forest management,
Supply long lasting lumber of top quality.
The eco-system is a California treasure,
To be preserved and enjoyed by all mankind.


Redwoods and Beaches

Driving through the redwoods,
The mountain road reveals below,
The shining city on the bay:
Santa Cruz is paradise on a beach.

The city is a jewel on the coast,
With surf and sunshine
On the western extreme 
Of the great Monterey Bay.

The bay is thriving with sealife
As it is the deepest of bays.
You can watch whales and otters.
You can see pelicans and seagulls.

The pier juts brashly into the bay,
Inviting all to enjoy the expanse,
Either fishing from its many perches,
Or dining in its fine resturants.

Just off the beach is the Boardwalk.
With its merry-go-round for tots,
And its roller coaster for teens.
All delight in this amusement park.

In wetsuits on their short boards,
The surfers ride the high waves.
Here the sport first took hold
On the golden California coast. 

Santa Cruz offers sunshine and waves,
Summer fog and fierce winter storms.
But those who visit or reside
Know they enjoy the gemstone of the coast.


A Little Fish

It is only a little fish.
It swims down the rocky stream
And migrates into the Ocean
Where it feeds and grows big.

After many years at sea,
It returns to its habitat.
The place of birth is imprinted.
It spawns in these sheltered streams.

The roe of a salmon are mixed,
Produced by multiple matings.
Diverse within their creation,
The stock will remain strong.

After spawning, the fish die off,
Becoming food for the animals.
Their residue feeds the soil.
The nutrient rich soil feeds the trees.

The giant redwoods grow high,
Storms, fire and logging topple them.
They fall across forest streams,
Creating quiet pools for nurseries.


  


Shifting Plates
(California)

The plates of the earth
Hold the land in its place,
Until the shifting begins,
As they reconfigure below.

The North American Plate
And The Pacific Plate
Grind their way in opposition:
One going north, the other south.

San Francisco's great earthquake
Was a result of shifting plates,
And many more have followed,
And many more will occur.

In a quake, the earth shakes,
And structures invaritably crumble;
Escape from within!  Get out!
That is our survival mode.

A crumbling structure will kill.
It will bury those within,
With the only chance of escape
Is help from those not trapped.
Earthquake Tragedy
Earthquake Tragedy


The Earth Shakes

Shaking.  Shaking.  Shaking.
The house and earth are shaking.
This must be the real thing,
An earthquake in California.

Trinkets and bottles tumble.
The walls shift and crack -
Will this shaking ever stop?
Will this building hold together?

Outside, the cliffs tumble.
A couple on the beach are lucky,
All their clothing is buried.
They are saved by swimming.

The streets have opened,
Cracks now surface from below.
The ripple of a tremor
Is as a ripple in a lake.

Men, women and children,
The old, the young, the innocent,
Are buried by the crumbling.
Most die quick, some are entombed.


 


Santa Cruz Harbor

They built a lighthouse  
At the harbor entrance,
A beacon of light to see,
For all who seek refuge.

Each night the ships return
To safe harbor and berthing,
To the safety of sanctuary -
In a protected harbor.

This lighthouse stands tall,
It's beam ever rotating.
It is a reminder to all
Of the dangers in the sea.

Ballet at Gilda's

This restaurant is different.
It is full of life and bustle.
It is movement as in a dance.
The staff performs as if in a ballet.

The maitre-d' smiles and directs.
The bartenter shakes drinks and pours.
The waitresses are poised and helpful.
Even the busboys are part of the rhythm.

Platters of foods, hot and steaming, 
Arrive with a smile and anticipation;
Lobster and steak, pasta and soup,
And wine entices the palate.

All is done, and the patrons are happy.
It is time to pay the tab and tip.
Dining is part of life's enjoyments,
The ballet at Gilda's is added fare.


Pig Hunting on "Tejon Ranch"

Early load up and departure, 
Heading south in the dark.
 First stop, Paso Robles:
Starbucks coffee with a shot.

Turning east into the sunrise,
The miles clicking off;
Vineyards, orchards and rolling hills,
The "Lost Hills of California". 

Now driving through the oil fields,
 Derricks ever pumping black gold.
Turning south down "Interstate 5",
Blowing dusty fields and hazey hills.

The final stop is Tejon ranch, 
Rendezvous for a pig hunting adventure.
Zero the weapon and put it on safe,
Mount up and ride the ranch hills.

Wet gullies and oak trees seem right,
But no pigs are in sight this night.
We'll try again with first light,
Pigs are here, just not sure where.

Early morning wake-up and wash,
Fresh coffee and apple cobbler.
Heading for a recent pig sighting,
Rain is falling, mist is in the air.

The first shot takes down a big boar.
More pigs moving across a road,
Getting set, fire three quick shots.
No pigs down, but we'll keep trying.

I sight a lone black and white boar,
He's in with the grazing cattle.
I'll angle the shot to miss the cows:
Pig is down with a broken back.

Drive

I love my automobile.
Everyone loves thier auto,
Free to travel and enjoy
The luxury of the open road.

I've noticed a few bad trends.
People do not pay attention,
Cell phone usage frightens me.
The driver is no where near focused.

Now, the kids seem to have skills
That are beyond my capabilities.
They drive, eat lunch and text.
Yes, they text messages while driving.

They call that multi-tasking.
I call it insanity and stupidity.
The brain is a marvelous instrument,
But it requires a focus to execute.

I said: "A focus", not skip-focus.
Skip-focus allows you to ere
On multi-tasks simultaneously.
Wake up!  You are driving!  Drive!!!


Flying

Feeling the power surge
As the airplane lifts off,
Climbing and gaining height,
Watching the world expand.

Through the clouds I hold her,
Taking her above them.
All the world to myself -
As I hold her steady.

This is a flyers time,
To think and know life,
Between the points below,
Where others dwell in routine.

First, rolling to the right,
Leveling off again,
Climbing the high arch...
Knowing the freedom of flight.

When man and machine blend
To fly the bright skies:
To glimmer in sunlight,
To feel immortal in flight.
Image


The Struggle For Life

Three seagulls flying low
With one crab to feed upon.
Only one victor this cold morning,
As two seagulls screech displeasure.

The one seagull with his meal,
Will fly off to feed alone.
The landscape is barren.
The struggle for food is difficult.

This struggle for survival,
It is depicted in a painting.
The artist is Vivian Robles,
Life's struggle fresh each morning.


 

Winter Solace Dialogue

The shortest day of the year
Is the day of the long night.
It is a day of rain and storm.
It is a day of gloom and dark.

Yet, it is also a day of warmth
By a crackling fireplace
With friends and companions,
Who can imbibe without care.

The mood should be joyful,
It is the season of holiday cheer.
But this darkness depresses me.
My soul needs light and sunshine.

Turn all the lights up to bright.
Pull your stool close to the fire.
Come huddle near my warm body,
For in time, we'll enjoin to bed.

The warmth of my bed does entice,
With your cool skin to envelope
As it heats in the nights embrace
And darkness turns to light in your arms.

It takes a woman to turn darkness
Into the explosive light of ecstacy.
It takes a woman to make warmth
And to make tomorrow's sunrise brighter.

I think I understand what you mean.
A long dark night in winter
Is a warm joyful night in your arms
And the soul is heated by the nights fire.
Image


The Seasons Of A New England Lake
 

 

A Cold Front

A cold front is moving in.
I can see the sky darken
As the front pushes through -
Bringing the rains in its wake. 

On the lake, solitude is present.
A log chops against the stones.
The wind moves the surface,
More up and down than before.

To the earth fall the leaves:
The rainbow leaves cling no more.
And soon it will be the snow,
As winter will cover the land.
 

 


Bitter Embrace

The branches of the trees
Are locked in winters ice.
The lake ripples no more,
Frozen in a cold embrace.

It is a different quiet,
More desolate and forlorn.
Not even the skaters
Use this cold wintry lake.

The colors are but tones
As the winter takes hold.
The days pass by slowly
At this place on the lake.

The worst month is January,
While spring and its warmth
Are still so far away,
And the cold is ever near.
 



Season Of Rebirth

The wind blows cool
Across its surface.
A kite flies above,
Dancing in the sky.

The water is high,
Lapping at the rocks.
The tassles are hanging,
Green and soon to bloom.

A spring bird over there,
Returned from somewhere,
Drinking its pleasure,
Perhaps home again.

This lake renews,
Turning in its cycle.
Life seems also new,
Freshened by this lake.
 



Summer Lake

The lake is warmer now.
A soft haze hangs above,
Almost a blend, not moving:
As a complete stillness.

Even the air feels heavy.
Everything is slower,
From flower to flower,
A butterfly drifts.

Only the children are heard
In this lanquid moment.
They chase after ducks,
Trying to feed them crumbs.

This is the rich cycle
Of this wonderful lake
That turns and changes,
As the seasons go by.


  


Antartic Spring

A monolith standing tall
In a cold barren landscape of ice,
With the sun breaking through,
Emerging sun of hope and light.

With darkness of the Antartic night,
In process of receding daylight,
After six months of darkened freeze.
The midnight sun reemerges to renew all.


Note: Poem appears in book: Breaking The Ice, by Anthony F. Fiorentino.  A story of a scientific expedition into Antartica.
Available: Amazon.com
 

Noble Doctor

To be a doctor, a noble endeavor.
You must study and work hard.
You must be committed to excellance.
You must want to serve mankind.

A doctor is a savoir to the needy.
He or she is hope to the suffering.
The knowledge of a doctor is salvation.
A doctors brain is an instrument of care.

We trust our Doctor with our care.
We trust our Doctor in time of crisis.
We trust our Doctor to do her best for us.
A doctor is unique in caring for mankind.




 
 
A Doctor First
(Dr. Elisabeth Ryzen)
 
 
From nowhere, the attack came.
Her auto immune system failed.
She was subject to destruction
By her own defense mechanism.

Only a powerful drug would help
And the injections soon began.
This drug had many side affects 
And her bones began to thin within.

She would pick up a bag of potatoes
 And hear a rib snap within.
 She would sit down in a hard chair
 And her hip would fracture.

The pain and disabilities mounted
 And soon she was using a walker,
And ensconced in front of a TV, 
Trying to take her mind off the pain.

The drugs finally began to work,
And the many broken bones healed.
She could walk on her own once again
And she escaped from in front of the TV.

Now, back at work and recovering,
Not yet on a full time schedule.
I asked my doctor "Are you OK?"
She paused and thought for the answer.

"I've seen so many who have suffered more.
I expect to recover fully in time.
I enjoy my work and helping others.
I am a doctor first and yes, I'm OK."

 
 

A Doctor With A View
(Dr. Elizabeth Ryzen)

It really is nice
To have a smart Doctor:
One who can view more
Than what is in the box.

To look beyond the view,
To search the horizon,
To be open to other ideas,
Is indeed smarter than most.

Experts, with credentials,
They enjoin with opinions,
From all they think they know:
Without reviewing the problem.

It is the problem
That needs to be solved.
No matter the credentials -
I really need a remedy.

Yes, I have a Doctor.
Yes, she is intelligemt.
Yes, she views the problem.
Yes, she has a remedy.


My Doctor - Your Doctor
(Dr. Elizabeth Ryzen. M.D.)


It is personal to have a Doctor.
Your Doctor looks after your health.
Your Doctor is a surrogate for life.
Your Doctor wants you to be healthy.

Your Doctor is the navigator of life,
Guiding you on a journey of good health.
Should a problem develope with you,
You have your Doctor to call for advise.

A Doctor is a dedicated professional.
Their motivation is about giving to others.
They give of themselves in a lifetime of effort,
With others benefiting from their knowledge.

Nothing in life is more valuable to me
Than to be as healthy as I can be.
The very quality of life is in health:
Your moods, physiology and well being.

How does one thank a Doctor for their quality of life?
How does one thank a Doctor for their health?
How does one thank a Doctor for being there?
Those are a few things only we need be thankful for!


 


BEAT!  BEAT!  BEAT!
(Electrophysiology Study)
Dr. Minto Turakhia



Into the heart of man -
This time with electronic probes.
The Doctor advised a study
To determine rhythm normalcy.

The procedure will determine
If all is well in this organ
 That pumps lifeflow every second,
Hopefully, without interuption.

A dozen wires external,
Two or three probes internal.
The pulses activate the organ, 
The heart beat is adjusted.

The firing tests the hearts electronics,
And adjustments are determined
The electronics of the heart;
A skip, a miss, a stoppage.

All the information is recorded.
The Doctor's determine problems.
Should abnormalcy be discovered,
A pulse of heat burns them out.

Finally, the procedure ends.
The wires are removed.
The heart rhythm is normal
Beat, beat, beat, every second.


 

Optogenetics

My cardiolgist is an expert,
And applies electro-physiology
To intervene with my heartbeat:
Adjusting, correcting and tuning the rhythm.

In my head resides my brain:
Electrode-chemical-physiological,
A system more complex than the heart,
A system interconnected to function.

Yet, brain links do go astray,
These faults can cause severe problems.
Think of the addict we all know,
Whether it is drugs, alcohol or food.

The brain is now being mapped.
The linkage within is known.
The electro-chemical process which motivate,
We understand the dynamics.

A modification on a negative structure
Can change life's very direction.
The victim of addiction can be fixed.
Life's great promise can be fulfilled.

 

Cataracts
(Doctor Zayna Nahas)


The Doctor advised that I proceed
With an operation to remove my cataracts.
I readily agreed, things appeared too cloudy
And the night glare was too much to be driving.

The "phaco" operation took close to an hour.
I was soon out of there with one eye patch.
A night at home and back again to clinic
Where the bandage was removed and the eye checked.

It looked good and I was cleared to drive.
So home I drove, but I couldn't read the signs,
That is, until I removed my eyeglasses,
Everything was clear and I could see everything.

That was a surprise, a one hour operation
And my vision restored to youthfulness.
I discovered what they meant by high definition T.V.
And I really didn't need eyeglasses for  much at all.

There was a bit of a shock when I looked in the mirror.
I saw details I had not seen before with cloudy eyes.
The face was older and much more haggard.
Yesterday's beautiful image stared truthfully back at me.


 

Life Plus Plus Plus
(Stephanie Monterrosa Conversation)


Getting older changes one's focus.
I'm now more interested in lifespan,
I'm talking about extending the norm
And controlling the process of ageing.

Studies that address methology;
We all know exercise is beneficial,
It has been credited to adding to life 
Three and a half years of longivity.

I've got your attention now I expect.
Dental flossing, what benefit to life?
Try guessing the life extension factor;
In reality, it is an extra two years of life.
 
But, that is not even the best of it:
Stress kills, avoiding stress is important,
The data indicates six and a half years
Of lifespan can be lost to STRESS.

This is really interesting, even to youth.
I'll bet you'll floss more regularly now.
How about a steady regime of exercise
And don't  get mad at me, if stress gets you.
 
****
 
 

The Opthalmologist
(Dr. Zayna Nahas)

This time, it was the left lens.
She was breaking it apart
And removing the fragments,
Discarding a foggy view.

I could sense her focus and effort.
This is not an easy profession,
One error in a thirty minute operation
And my vision could be impaired.

I was her second procedure.
There were four more operations
That were scheduled after me.
I knew she would be drained.

Zayna's still young and strong.
She anticipates the challenge.
She enjoys the reward of success.
She is making a difference.

She cuts an opening in the eye
And slips a new lens into the cavity.
Zayna relaxes and the tenseness fades.
Can an ophthalmologist be a hero?  Yes.
 

Basel Cell Cancer
(Dr. Michelle Windmire)


A pimple, nothing more, nothing less.
So I thought when first I noticed.
It did not heal.  It did not go away.
This one was not like other pimples.

I called my dermotologist and scheduled.
On Thursday; a look, a scrap, a biopsy.
We'll let you know if it is positive.
"Yes, you have Basal Cell Carcinoma."

"O.K.  What exactly do I have?"
It is caused by ultra violet rays.
The sun can be harmful over time.
It is a form of cancer and we must purge.

A local anesthesia in my right cheek.
The Doctor cuts, removes and stiches.
She admires her work professionally:
"It's out, you'll heal nicely in a few weeks."

A thirty minute procedure and it is done.
Cancer removed, a long life in my future.
A pimple is a pimple.  That was not a pimple.
"I don't want to die from being stupid."




 
 
 
Hammer And Chisel
(Dr. Rayher & Dr. Kalka)
 
 
The dentist advised, my crown failed,
Beneath the surface lingered some decay.
She advised removing, cleaning and refitting,
Of course, that would depend on the decay beneath.
 
The crown removed, the decay purged,
Not enough left to secure a crown upon.
We'll extract the tooth and implant another.
It is a tough procedure, but you do like to smile.
 
Back at the dentist, shots to void pain:
Instruments, lights and the action begins.
Try as she would, there wasn't enough old tooth
To grasp and remove from this jaw of steel.
 
She called in an associate, a sturdy fellow,
"No problem at all. Pass me the hammer and chisel."
That really got my attention, I stiffened up a bit,
Preparing myself for "the hammer and chisel."
 
It took quite a while from my prospective.
Finally, tooth removed, bone graft implaced,
Stitching taking more time, I wondered at it all.
Done!  I staggered away, not quite smiling yet. 
   
 
 


My Neanderthal Tooth 
(Doctors Khoury and Rayher, Dental Nurses Angela and Khin)
 
"A little decay below the crown.
We'll remove the crown and purge."
"We got the decay, but one problem:
We lack enough base to reattach."

" We need to extract the residual tooth
And we'll prepare you for an implant."
"You'll have a brand new tooth.
It may be larger than a normal tooth."

"The gap was previously two teeth,
An inclining tooth narrowed the space.
There is only space for one large tooth.
That should work: a one for two "implant".

Two dentists, two assistants, ready to start.
"We'll implace a screw to hold the big tooth.
Drill, drill, drill, drill, correct angle: check!.
The space has to be exact without fail."

Doctor Khoury steps back in admiration:
"It looks right, this tooth will sit right."
Doctor Rayher: "Perfect!  You did well."
I'm ready for my big Neanderthal tooth.

When they finally escalate my bones;
Eon's from this time, they will debate:
"Is he Homo Sapian or Neanderthal?"
This debate will occupy many scholars.

  

Pain Management
(Dr. Edward Mariano)
(Dr. Natasha Funk)


"An operation on you is necessary.
We must perform a surgical procedure
To repair and remedy your injury.
You will be sedated during your surgery.

Next, I had to go to pre-operation.
They checked my vitals and history.
They performed an electrocardiogram.
The Anethesiologist explained the procedure.

I'm wheeled into the operation holding room.
The Anethesiologist determines the dosage,
It could be local, a block or full out,
Depending on the pain management required.

There is always a fear of not coming back.
Surgery is a procedure with inherent risk.
I hope it doesn't hurt, I hope it works.
"Don't worry, we manage pain and reduce risk."

The day following the procedure,
The Anethesiologist checks in on me.
"It was "A Piece of Cake", no pain at all:
Not groggy, no nausea, I feel great!"

 
 
 
 
 
A Simple Challenge
(Chromosome 23)

The project came into my head.
One little poem, a lark in endeavor.
Can I write a poem on "XX" and "XY"?
That will be tricky, I like the challenge.

Well, I need to make it a trilogy.
It is not complete - I can see that.
Two more poems will do the trick.
I'm beginning to get the hang of this.

The trilogy is good but the story is not done.
There is more to life than three poems.
I'll write a bit more and figure it out.
This is beginning to get interesting.

Oh my God, I've discovered the truth.
It's "Scream" for me and it is real.
The horror of the discovery moves me forward.
I'll reconcile, adapt and get beyond the trauma.

A dozen poems concluded, what a task.
I now understand women as never before.
I have new knowledge, new power, new compassion.
Life is evoled evoleability: required for mankind.
 

CHROMOSOME 23
The book was published in July, 2013.
Go to Smashwords, Apple, Amazon, Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook Books, Kobo, Diesel, Page Foundry, Library Direct, Baker-Taylor Axis 360, Sony, Baker & Taylor/Blio, Oyster or Createspace.
Available in ebook or print as you prefer.
 
 
 
 
PREVIEW:
 
 
They Own The Egg
 
Women have ownership of the egg.
It is theirs and always has been.
The male implants his sperm,
Mostly at the invitation of the female.
 
It is a design of the milliniums;
Modified, changed and improved.
From hunched "Lucy" to the a smiling "Mona Lisa",
It is the womans creation.
 
The egg of life delivers:
A male developed with fewer genes,
A male with specialized traits,
A male designed to be useful.
 
This clever egg even allows
The offspring to look like the Dad,
While being intelligent, able
And beautiful like the mother.
 
The design developes aggressive males
And a passive female with beauty,
That bears and rears children.
Women know, a male can be replaced.
 
 
 
The "XX" Design

I must be attractive for mating.
I'll have a slender body of curves
With enticements both front and rear.
They will bounce as I walk and cause focus.

I need not be taller than my mate,
As he will protect and provide.
I'll also need the pleasure of mating
And their need be no limit on endurance.

I'll need extra body fat for survival.
Let the male be lean, he'll hunger quickly.
I'll live off my internal reserve of fat.
Yes, my breasts and bottom will round perfectly.

Procreation is the rule of the species survival.
My breasts will feed my offspring for years.
The children and I will bind my mate,
He'll need to return to fulfill his urge to protect.

I'll be verbally more capable than my mate.
With language, I'll be capabe of persuasion.
I'll design full lips and a soft voice.
My eyes will be larger and view better closer.

This will be a dynamic attractive creature.
Woman as art form, beauty to be pursued.
God did not create woman, woman created woman.
"I designed the male too, designed to perform."

   
The "XY" Design

I need protection by man.
He must be bigger and stronger.
I need substance provided by man.
He must want to work and be able.

His body fat need be less than mine,
As he will hunt and provide substance.
When he becomes hungry, I'll still be full.
When he returns from the hunt, I'll be hungry.

He must desire my slender body.
My curves must attract him to me.
His desire must be observable
So I'll know when to proceed.

He must be capable of delivering his seed
And he must want to procreate.
I must devise a method to bind him,
So that he will provide substance to offspring.

His physic and musculinity must attract me.
He must be capable of providing sexual joy.
But he should be limited of sexual endurance.
It is me he must satisfy, no one else.

I'll provide a beard so I can see him afar.
As a male, he could be a mate or a threat.
His eyes should see distance for hunting.
Less verbal skills, he need not talk too much.

One last thing, he must be aggressive.
I need to see him in performance
Thus I can weed out the weaker pretenders.
Yes, all men are to be easily replaced.
             
 
 
AUTHOR:
 
John J. Duffy, the poet has published four poetry books and previously been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize in poetry.  Warman, Peaceman, and Sageman document his war experience as a Special Forces Commander.  His The Bush Chronicles gives a redition of the most important events in George W. Bush's first term as President.
John served as a Commander in Special Operations and is a highly decorated officer.  He rose from Sergeant to Major and has sixty plus awards and decoration  including the Distinguished Service Cross and eight Purple Hearts.
After military service, John held senior positions in Publishing and Finance.   He founded an investment firm which was sold to Ameritrade.
He is retired in Santa Cruz, California and writes poetry.  Two of his poems are inscribed on a monument dedicated to Forward Air Controllers in Colorado Springs, Colorado. 
 
 
 
 
 
THE BOOK:
 
 
Chromosome 23 is a story about you.
 
It is a story about me and all the rest of us.  It delves into the "XX" and the "XY" chromosome.  This the female and the male chromosome.
 
"I never understand women".  We've heard that before.  This endeavor is the key to understanding women and the men they need.  Women own and design the egg, all else follows.
Read "The Chromosome Dozen" and enlightenment is yours.  Take a lyrical journey with words to the musical: "Chromosome 23".
Last, journey into the brain, your most important tool and vision how it functions.  This journey is just beginning, read "Inner Universe", the most important discovery  of anotomy.
 
John J. Duffy
Soldier, Businessman and Poet