New Poems
by Michael P. Garofalo



Stepping On to Pleasures

Grown old I groan
At times so stiff and sore
But not stopping, stepping on,
Walking past the pains to gain
Another epiphany before the rains.

Step by step the breath
Finds a pleasant pace
Pains dissipate.

By the third mile, I smile,
Feet flowing, arms swaying,
discomforts dissolved.

Warmed with eyes wide
Trees slide by, doves coo,
Awe opens then closes - no clues.

My pace slowly slows
Avoiding holes in the road;
Filling the unconscious crevasses of my mind
With pleasures deep and kind.

By and by, it's done, I'm saying
"Such a benefit, and beguiled."
I now rest, content. 

-  Michael P. Garofalo, 5/13/2014




fall apart―
his wife died, he unraveled

white dice
emptied my wallet―

bent over
prostate exam





The Nakedness of the Ununique

Being ourselves is mostly public and a little private,
    most is known;
Exposed to ourselves and others,
    little is hidden;
Sharing the same world,
    our limits are revealed;
Being entirely the past and a slice of the present,
    everything is recycled and our histories are unavoidably written;
Using eyes like billions of creatures,
    little goes unseen;
Sharing the fate of everyone,
    our deaths are public;
Our uniqueness is grounded in sameness,
    our genera are catalogued, our species specified;
Speaking and using the same languages,
    always out loud with others, impossible privately;
Surrounded by families and friends,
    seldom alone;
An open book,
    very few secrets itching to be told;
Coming out of the closet,
    just the naked flabby truth;
Hidden treasures unearthed, unboxed,
    opened in brightly lit museum walls.

Is there something
    I know
    that others don't or can't
    know, talk about, see, tell, or reveal?
If so, if so,
    it must be precious,
    hidden deep in the black hole of my soul
    dug up from the compost of my memories,
    something so special
    that even I am unsure if it is really real
    without showing or sharing with others. 

But, yes, yes, Multiplicity and Complexity and Variety
Open the door to privacy, exclusivity, aloneness, uniqueness. 
Trivial perceptions from my point of view,
     beyond the bother of naming. 
Private definitions of gnomes and gods,
     personal understandings filtered by my stupidities,
     wishful thinking, homespun illusions and delusions,
     innumerable bodily feelings even I have long forgotten,
     meaningless visions drowned in the sea of practical matters,
     hidden wishes squandered on realities. 

Open and closed, within and without, naked and clothed ...
Plenty of Both.  

-  Michael P. Garofalo, 12/15/2014



Poems from 2014












Index to Poems by Michael P. Garofalo

Green Way Research, Red Bluff, California