Mike Devita

September 2010 Update

VISIONS

© Mike Devita

Visions

Of faraway places

With strange-sounding names

Penetrating my brain

Way too often

At inopportune times

Visions

Of journeys past

And of those planned

And of those yet to enter that stage

Penetrating my scrapbook

Of places visited and yet to do so

Goals of times to be

Visions

Of confectionary delights

Active always in my thoughts

In all colors of the rainbow

In all stages of desire...

Those "forbidden fruits"

Penetrating my mental taste buds

Most of the times

Visions

Of diets present and past

Of clothes no longer practical

Of walks I wish I could still take

Of food I wish I could still eat

Of health I wish I still had

Of friends who could care less

About diets and clothes and forbidden food

And help to keep me in the proper mood

CUSTOMER SERVICE

© Mike Devita

A thing of the past.

No one answers the phone

Unless you wait for half a day

To finally get through to

A live voice, not from India,

Or some other foreign country

Where no one understands anyone.

No one arrives when they

Give you a schedule and

Tell you they will be there

At a certain time

To resolve a problem

In fact, sometimes they

don't arrive at all.

A window for on call

Resolutions: 7 am to 10 pm

What a joke.

And what do you do

In the meantime?

Twiddle your thumbs?

Or you stand in a box store

Waiting for someone to help

You find something or to give

You instructions on a product.

And you keep waiting, and

waiting and waiting, and

waiting some more.

Whatever happened to

Customer satisfaction...

Customer care...

Civility.

I must be a relic.

August 2010 Update

THERE ARE FRIENDS

© Mike Devita

It is a good thing to have friends,

Or so I have been told.

I guess there are all kinds of friends.

The close ones who are there

Through good and bad times, thick and thin.

And if you disagree about something,

You work it out and keep on going.

And there are others who are there for you

When you can do something for them, but

Who can just as quickly pick up stakes

And move on to other so-called friends.

Sounds like a bee flitting from flower to flower.

And when the flower no longer produces,

The bee just keeps moving on.

I have had friends like that, not too many though.

I don't spend much time trying to cultivate them.

It isn't worth the effort.

I like friends who stay despite any

Idiosyncrasies you may possess,

Who stand up for you when others are talking about you

Who don't talk about you behind your back.

Who listen and try to understand your point of view

Even if they don't always agree.

Who really care about you, and what you think,

Who really want to be with you.

I like friends with whom you can gab for hours

Mostly about nothing or nothing extraordinary.

It doesn't matter...It is the mutual chat that does.

Especially those friends who are not always saying

"Sorry...gotta go...got things to do".

When those things don't amount to a hill of beans.

Things to do never go away.

Friends do.

Good friends don't. Unless they have no choice.

So I have come up with a not so earth-shaking decision.

Life is short...we all know it. Minutes count.

I choose to spend the little time I have

With friends who really care about me.

Those who want to be with me, and share the minutes.

Those who have no always -pressing engagements.

Good friends are better than any amount of gold.

Such are the kind of friends with whom you can grow old.

July 2010 Issue

MEMORIES

© Mike Devita

Memories from the past

Call us back to calmer, slower days.

When the world was not in such a rush

To go nowhere in particular.

When playing in the backyard

Was all the fun kids needed.

When a good radio show could make

Us laugh or cry or get scared because

It was all in our imagination anyway.

A time when we could go to the local store

And pick up a brown paper bag full of

All kinds of Candy delights for only a penny,

Where the term "penny candy" came from,

And the delight in making those choices

Is unmatched by any such thing today.

When a quarter allowance was a big deal

Cause we could spend a whole Saturday

At the local all- day double feature movies,

Stuff our bellies with candy and soda,

Laugh with our friends or hide behind the seat

If the movie got scary,

And the whole day was only a dime,

And we still had fifteen cents left for the rest of the week.

A time When kids behaved in school because they knew

That if they didn't, they would get it double at home.

A time when Mom was always there when we got home

To provide a nice snack after school before we

Went out to play before dinner.

A time when our decision making was whether to

Play tag or hide and seek or dodge ball

Or cowboys and Indians, or some other simple game,

When we didn't need the "toys of today"

To keep us from getting bored.

How often I have said: if only the kids today

Knew what they are missing.

And then realization sets in.

They will say the same thing about their

Kids some time far away in the future.

I have heard some scientists say that we

Live on several planes at the same time,

That yesterday, today and tomorrow

All exist at once.

That is too difficult for me to remember.

Besides,

I prefer yesterday.

April 2010 Issue

APRIL 

© Mike Devita

A special time to think about the man who saved the world

Pray that he is watching over present conditions

Remember the purpose of the holiday

I know everyone likes Easter Eggs and Chocolates, but

Love is the reason for the season

Sad Departure

© Mike Devita

So many people look forward

to the coming of Spring.

To the reawakening of nature

as it displays itself in the

brilliant colors associated

with the season...

the vivid yellows

the soft purples

the bright yellows

the sprouting light greens which darken

the too-soon-gone whites

And before an eye is blinked

Summer is here with all its heat

the mosquitos

the humidity

the perspiration with any distance walked

the constant weeding of outdoor gardens

the screaming kids no longer in school

And before we blink again

It is back to Fall

the leaves turn more brilliant colors

Than we ever imagined in Spring

The golds, the browns, the reds

And then we are back to winter once again

And the blessed coolness that I always love

And miss when Spring takes it all away

And makes me sad and wish for its return.

And maybe, just maybe, we get more snow.

But in more moderation than the Winter of 2010.

Winter is much more my style.

January 2010 Issue

GLORIFIED

© Mike DeVita

The arms of the earth

Broke through the sod

And clenched his fist in derision,

For clay knows not the might of God

It has but earthly vision.

The finger of God wrote in the sky

A sign of mighty fire:

"Reach up to me for I am life"

But earth could reach no higher.

With strength of muscle,

With might and main,

Earth struggled and then defied,

But God stretched forth His Hand of Love,

And earth was glorified.

LOST LOVELINESS

© Mike Devita

A voice of velvet

Softly dispels melodious notes

Amidst the surrounding cacophonies

It enunciates each word

With perfect diction

With emphatic clarity

With astute phrasing

With deep feeling and emotion

As it competes with the jarring rumbles of noise

The rap, the hip hop, the whining voices

Forever searching for a true note

And then it quietly departs

For days, for weeks, for months, for years

Silenced by the excuses that some call "music"...

Music without harmony, without resonance,

Without apparent melody, without real feeling,

Blaring voices that trip the scales with insecurity

In a world that accepts what it hears as proper

Until an occasional whisper of a former time

Recalls what once was taken too much for granted

The voice, once again, calls us back

To the beautiful sounds that still reside

On long forgotten or seldom played vinyl

Sometimes resurrected on a web site

Or in a television documentary

To remind us of

What we no longer have, but could

What we now accept reluctantly, and shouldn't

What we need to bring back

If for nothing else,

For the sake of beauty.

For the sake of loveliness.