Claire Barreres Fusco Poems

A Fact

I could hardly accept the fact he was dead
Even though I knew it to be so-seeing him
Lying still-appearing to be only sleeping
A fact-yes-but not fully impressed
On the mind shocked by the suddenness of
That departure-without a simple-goodbye
How sad those last words spoken by him
"Do you want to watch Lawrence Welk?"
I told him I was watching the ending movie
So he returned to Welk-I to the movie
The T.V. had been turned off in his room
Quietly-he'd entered the bathroom
That was always his favorite room
A favored day as well-Kentucky Derby day
He died in there
On that day
On my birthday
A fact-yes a fact-and a sad one
Although no goodbye-an assured hello
Returning to life in God's paradise earth.

A Great Robbery

With such grand things to be said
And so few that want to listen
Therein lies a bleak disappointment
How strange this stubborned resistance is
A malady-as deadly as many
Leaving but wondering how and why
The mind will choose to refuse reasoning
Discarding swiftly any true examination
Or any pondering and evaluation
Trading abstractions for obvious reality
But how can you accept that robbery
And chance to lose it all

A New Blooming

The little ivy plant arched gracefully
As it draped ever so softly downward
Not so grand among the more luxuriant plants
Yet how symbolic of the scene before me
With a friend near death
A sigh becomes a roar
As we walked past her garden
We snipped a true rose-colored rosebud
Then added a tiny bright yellow one
Significant will be their future fullness
Supplying such sweet scented splendor
And I will dry those roses
To set in a place of remembrance
For that hour-when life will be renewed
When flesh will be refreshed
Back to the full bloom of youth

Constant Pain

Ah-shall I embrace my pain
That ever desires to embrace me
Shall I greet it every day?
With a rousing and cheery hello
No-I don't think so
Now it seems to always be where
It can color my life with nagging despair
How weary and angry I've come to be
To be governed by it's constancy
Now sleep serves as mere relief for me
But what recourse do I really have
Against this cruel oppression
The range from prescription to addiction
With it's own additional trials
But to tread on with a wan smile
Then add to that-some laughter
Looking forward-toward the time
A time that when it's here
Will end all pain ever after.

Disconnect

Witless ware
Without Brain
Devoid of vision
Vacant stare
That will encore
Riots and roar
That all to hell
And this as well
That man made weak
The victim's squeak
In picture frames
The face escapes
That hangs the wall
Straight up and down
And ruts are deep
The poor dears sleep
Don't waken them
They’ll ruin the race.

Egotism

Well-what about ME
Can you not see?
That I am ME
Noticed I'll be
I'm fond of ME
Oh me-when fractions flee
Oh my-all decimal die
Oh say-who are you???
After demise-vanity passed
Eyes see eyes-insight is vast
Pride's a midget carrying tools
Rank and rigid molding his fools.

Closure

We often peer into a setting sun
Through those string-thin sun streaks
Past the patches of cloudy mist
Looking beyond the seeming actuality
Of myriad scenes or dreams
Those many distant hopes
Well beyond the mountains borders
Our glancing eyes can perceive
The subtle substance of eternity
The Creator of good things gave us
Lo-the brilliant copper ball appears
With it's own silent prayerful hush
That closes the blinds of another day
Of life from the Universal King

Get on with it

Forget the past
It didn’t last
>From days bygone
Let’s move along
Why measure time
By passed pantomime
Today will become tomorrow
With its share of joy or sorrow
How can one finish the race
With the mental gear in reverse
So let us keep up the pace
Discard what you should
Just retain what is good.

Hope Remains

I know I would have been proudest of you
Your eyes of very blue your strong body too
But really what have you done
To cloud those clear eyes over
With what is not a victory won
Under that hazy woven cloak as cover
Over all that was fine in you
But now-what can you do
But fight the hell and horror
Something that must be done by you
To break free from those strands of sorrow
>From that ongoing relentless contradiction
The stranglehold named "drug addiction"
Oh break its thick and crusty shell
Rise up now from where you fell
Break off the ties that bind
Stand alone-or new friends find
Turn back to the God that you once knew
And prove to yourself that HE WILL HELP YOU.

I May But A Coward Be

I may but a coward be
Yet would decline to see
My sons to number among the score
Of those young men
Gone off to war
To cringe in fear to scud and croll
The muddy slimes of some foxhole
But rather taste the grit of earth
Six foot under from their birth
Weary wars do not men make
Warping of minds lies in their wake
As born on unnatural fear and deed
Upon which barbaric vultures feed
I may but a coward be

In Reality

It seems deemed I had ruined everything
And have I made your life so bad
I wasn't really much of anything
But I did work hard with what I had
I grasped out for some deeper meaning
Higher than all sorts of sinister scheming
Alert to the serious role of a Mother
With deeper concern than many other
True-at times my ways were flawed
I able only to give what I could afford
So with that exact set of circumstance
You hear that music and dance that dance
Then in reality you'll know how it was for me
Not what you supposed-it seemed to be.

Lost Insight

I say this to you brother poet
Where others can't see-you know it
The blood bright sun in a fading sky
The fluttered fantasy of birds that fly
The struggled splendor of single grasses
The poet's post-mortem as springtime passes
And you might cry to see a bird die
Or ponder where stars that fall from the sky
And wish the moon full yours to hold
Or on spacious heights-throw out your soul
With this treasured insight to nature's preen
And a willing laugh when wit is keen
With this knowledge of esthetic wealth
And yet it is task to smile at yourself
I saw dark shadows in the morning sky
Though the sun never rose
It had burned itself dry.............

Morning Mood

Plainly poignant sky-palest pastel gray
Playing top and around a brand new day
Morning-moist hangs 'round a ripe-melon moon
Fluting-sleepy sparrows-thin tinkling tune
My walking wakens the resting day's gloom
The fog's filmy footfalls follow me home
Vision is veiled-sharp angles thus softened
My spirit sewn in a shroud-then coffined.

Progress Past

After time had ceased to be
In one eternity
The stench of the rubble died
And fires did subside
Slowly, the skeletons rose
They walked
Dismembered-in creaking pose
None talked
Unconsciously brushed dry bones
Burned black
Vaguely remembered spoken tones
Click-clack
Weary eyeless sockets stare
On their fallen city
Crushed-now crumbling-did they dare
Scientific pity !!

Remembrance

Remembrance is a sad street to walk
Numbed and in mental disarray
Each one to carry his own sorrow
Turning over the hours-days and years
Passed by now-but by no means gone
Grief steps slowly on it's own path
Yet we surely need to follow it
Knitting together-the past and present
Yet longingly focused on the future
That time of sublime restoration
Now we patiently wait for that day
And turn in prayer toward god's promise
When the sadness is transformed into joy
By restored life of those lost in death
To dwell forever in God’s paradise earth
When remembrance will be passed away
As it will be replaced by the treasure
Of God’s will being done forever.

Rushka-The Cat

There she is again-wending her way
Through the conglomerate of trees
Of bushes and weeds-of twigs and leaves
With her usual energetic leap through
Thick forsythia with that same precision
She blithely leaps onto the deck
This furry-purry cat just as sweet as sugar
So exhausted from doing-nothing we want see
Now has a light snack at her feed bowl
Surveys the exactness of her next move
A jump onto her favorite padded chair
Where in sunlight each whisker or wispy brow
Is sharply illuminated as she sits awhile
Now busy with the washing up after a feeding
Just waiting for us to caress and pet her
Opening wide for a grandiose yawn
Ah-relax some-that's the ticket
Until the next-kill in the thicket.

Selected Sonnets

Poetry-pale pastime-pauper's pursuit
(of parenthetical phrase) to boot
Food for thought is poetry
Stuff-then-to feed the soul.

Bluest sky cloudless

Sharing an instant serenity
Blue sky doubtless
Synonymous with eternity

There is a green-gilt spot I know
Where many red-vest robins go
Perched amid green grass and clover
Just looking their worm-world over

I envy the eagle
Born as if brother
Bird carefree is he
But I not another

Small Wonders

One thing fascinating-
Has to be-birds navigating
Precisely through the trees
Just as blithely as a breeze
With never a bump or bruise
Lighting on any branch they choose
To whistle tunes that chase the blues

Song Of Joy

Press here to my heart-listen how it sings
And banter not with me of trivial things
That bring no joy-and half employ
To cut from birds-their wings
Nor concentrate-nor subjugate
Your will to empty whims
Yet have a heart for all of things
For all things have their heart
And judge not by mere surfacings
But tear them all apart
Bear not with idle that rumor
That life contains no humor
Develop not that tumor of the brain
That will not see the rainbow-for the rain.


The Elusive Butterfly

Suddenly--a butterfly fluttered by my door
I suppose to tease me with a quick hello
The deepest rust with black its coloration
As I kept looking out in hopeful expectation
For just another-if brief-encounter
But no-for he need hover and cover the woods
Yet I was filled with this single appearance
Thinking-perhaps once again as if by chance
He might return to visit with me again
With another short and shimmering dance.

The Help That Healed

Oh damned be that treachery
Who sneer at the mother of their progeny
How vapid you must be within
Who walked from them as if a whim
Where did you go as you silent wove
The heartbreaking blow that left me lifeless
So tortured-pressed-upon and hopeless
You robbed us of our dignity
Then thrust me out for all to see
You had no further use for me
And many thought that it might be
That I had caused this travesty
And how did it turn out to be
You being your own worst enemy
For long I had suffered silently
Only God Himself could set me free
Nor would He ever abandon me
But to KNOW HIM-is the vital key.

The Last Enemy

With silent precision death closes the book
And as the flickering pages turn
Yet another one's story has come to its end
Within the framework of seventy-some years
Crammed full with endless repetitive tasks
That hardly ever engendered any true fulfillment
Lacking key ingredients for a better blended recipe
Which end result produced but sadness
Although self-contained, it passed on to others
Not by-deed-desire-nor design
But by circumstances-ever so ill-defined
Forcing mere casual impressions on the mind
Left begging-where to look-what to find
Answers yes-but of another kind
Thus escaping from the liar's bind
Attaining truth-ever so well-defined
Bygone error falls from faded chapters
Accept now the release-to rest in peace
Secure in the truth-God's promise to men
Of a return-to His paradise earth again.

The Predators

Sham
Scammer
Schemer
The identity
Any villain
In whose mind
Evil seeds sprout
Looking to harm
Those who are helpless
And gape uncaringly
At the hopeless pool of people

The Savings Account

The sky was brilliant in orange
Holding just one white cracked ice patch
That must have wandered in
>From some fluffy-clouded sphere
We gazed in wonder at the display
Not having seen a sunset-quite that way
Hovering, covering the entire expanse
We soaked the sight of it into our eyes
Drinking in this panoramic drama
Too soon-it vaporized and was gone
Yet we have it saved in our memory bank
Wherefrom we make frequent withdrawals

Twilight's End

Once again is my favorite time
Once more it is twilight time
How soothing this sublime time
My eyes search the amber pink
As the horizon is dimmed with a hush
I peer into the dusky shadowed evening
My eyes eager to be filled
With the simple sight of quietude
Mere minutes will usher in the deep
Transition to the crisp silent night
The moon makes its startling statement
Mid the stars of sparkled brightness
Breathe deeply the awesome display
Let it permeate your very being
Let it remind you that life is good.

Unconcern

If you were-real
I would not feel
That when we speak
My words never go
Beyond the front of your face
And since they do not
Involve-money-business or profit
They seem fallen on deaf ears
Aside from some raised eyebrows
And additional facial grimacing
Seeing no-real-concern
I too sadly feel
Unreal.

Users or Losers

Now-the epitome
Of sheer stupidity
Is something to pity
While entwined
The closed mind
Has nothing new to find
How can one manage
To avoid that challenge
To settle for suppositions
For flawed and rumored traditions
Surely there is no valid excuse
For chronic lingering brain abuse.

Very Well Spent

Spent -- the roses humbly bow their heads
Grown heavy their limp textured petals
Still the memory will ever remain
Their stalwart standing in full beauty
That simple-yet startling pose
The lingering scent still tempts our nose
The sublime-the magnificent-rose...

We Poets

We poets are that gender
Who chew on the roots of life
Who can separate the splendor
Who dare spit away the strife
Who contain to walk in enigma
'round multiple eyes with astigma
Yet are haunted with beauty we meet
Of those blinded ones roaming the street
So set we songs on feeble strand
For those who by chance do understand
Dry your tear stained cheek-take my hand.
Come live with us in our land.

Why Poetry?

I am not happy with regret
But dream as all poets do
Though visions were not always met
They ever consistent grew
This distortion or insanity
The near constant search for what
It's only tangible energy
Converted to words we jot
Would I could speak with Emily
Whose lover lies secret still
Hoping that she discuss with me
The query of the quill
The genius of Edgar Allan Poe
With his analytical mind
Had myriad fits of regret although
His reverences were kind
Or is it a running away
A psychological thrust
A kind of memora for days
Our bones produce-but dust.

A Lasting Love

What can a thousand thoughts convey
Though distant seem the warmth of arms
Let them encircle you each day
Knowing within ourselves alone
That happiness begins and ends
With vibrance as its undertone
Of glory we only partial know
Yet we sense that in our knowing
Forever it will always grow
A thousand selective thoughts
Into a thousand years
Of ever-enduring love

With You

Wherever you are-I am there too
Wherever you go-I am with you
I share in every sigh you breathe-echoing still another with you
And with all that I view-my thoughts turn to you
I mentally trace the steps you take-imaging all that you may do
While for me this is true-it is not so-with you

Letting Go

Embrace the termination
Welcome it’s cessation
And that without fanfare
Noticing nothing there
A void when very deep
The heart should never keep
Worn out dreams alive
Though wishing they survive
Will wither and not revive
The past cannot abide
So then the dreaming died
When noticing something real
That ever the future will reveal

John and Claire Fusco

Home Page