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The Fountain October 28, 2010

Posted by tobthebat in Poetry.
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The summer of 2001 was a season filled with wonder and discovery for me. My visits to New York City to see Trish often carried us into Manhattan where she would show me all the sights she knew so well. The Met, Central Park, Times Square, Broadway, Les Miserables and of course, The World Trade Center. I have always given thanks that I was able to behold the WTC in all its magnificent glory before it befell its horrible fate. Their height was majestic, and their simple, clean lines made them elegant icons of the Manhattan skyline. They were the prominent sight from the ferry, and they served as a compass because they could be seen from virtually anywhere on the island.

While Manhattan is a treasure trove of sights and experiences, laden with museums and parks so varied that it can be hard to conceive that you’re still in the same city, it was always the places on Staten Island that Trish visited with such relish and charm. Obviously the street where she grew up held many memories, but places like Lemon Creek always brought that air of simple happiness.

The one place that stood out from all the others on Staten Island was Snug Harbor. Here was a place rich with history where every wall and corner had a story to tell. While the buildings and Great Hall were works of art in their own right, the surrounding gardens and stands of flowers transported you to a place of serenity amid a bustling island of 400,000 people. In honor of the sailors who used to reside there, a fountain adorns the front lawn, and at its center, a statue of the mighty sea-god Neptune stands watch over this haven for those who lived their lives for the ocean.

This fountain always touched me for some reason I cannot explain, and at the end of our long days of hiking about town, we would lie down together and I would ramble on in awe of all I had tried to soak in that day. These thoughts would swirl together with words of whimsical romance as we faded off to sleep.

These times we spent together were the source of inspiration for many poems I composed for her over the next two years. The fountain at Snug Harbor still holds its touch of magic, and our wedding reception was held in the hall nearby, but this poem I wrote the day after we saw the fountain that first time.

 

“Fountain of Love”

 

The fountain in the park

Is a beautiful thing to see

Forever renewing yet still the same

Like the love between you and me

 

Water shooting ever skyward

Sparkling in the bright sunlight

Raining into the pool below

Reflecting the moon and stars at night

 

Seasons come and seasons go

Even through the winter chill

When the fountain becomes a sculpture of ice

Waiting patiently while still

 

The waters’ never ending cycle

Defines the love I feel inside

A tiny cupful says “I love you”

But the whole fountain cannot hide

 

Let all the world see this love of mine

As we drink our daily part

A lifetime of cups cannot run dry

This fountain of our hearts

 

The shimmering water and the artistic stone

Show what two things together can be

Completing each other like a thing of wonder

Such is this love with you and me.

© Timmy Green – 7/12/2001

Colors of my Heart October 26, 2010

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The world looks different through the eyes of an artist. Then again, we all are artists in our own ways, as we each possess a talent in how we express ourselves. The process usually begins at a young age, no matter if its crayons and paper, or those who make all the world a stage. Those who may be less extroverted may turn to the written word and eventually put pen to paper, while others find a niche amidst almost countless different kinds of mediums.

The world around us is a showcase of awesome beauty, and our minds hold onto the images that stir our souls. Artists have labored for centuries to reproduce the wonders they have beheld, and their attempts to capture the Hand of God at work have inspired countless others to try as well.

We all have the ability to visualize things in our minds, and how each of us attempts to communicate what we see is as individual as our own fingerprints. I began taking art classes in 8th grade and continued all through high school, so I got exposure to many different forms of art. While I was an avid user of pencils and markers in my younger years, lately I have been more involved in the expression of words to create mental images. The automotive art encompasses a wide array of talents, all of which are sources of joy to me, but alas, I am the master of none of those skills.

In contrast, my wife holds a degree in art, with her main focus on photography. Her knowledge of the Masters stretches far beyond my own, but her talent for capturing an image through her camera never ceases to amaze me. Her mind is constantly juggling the effect of colors and shapes, and she finds expression for this through her quilting. The stitching together of carefully selected textures and hues is tedious and time-consuming, but the labor of love carries that passion of her “inner artist” along with every length of thread.

Trish has constantly found ways to help me see the world from her perspective, and she has encouraged me to express myself in many forms so that she might better understand me. It has been a journey of discovery for us both, and one that has greatly enriched our lives.

Inspired by the “rteest” that loves me so well, I composed this poem.

“Colors of My Heart”

Life can be like paintings

Some bright and some dark

Some bursting with vibrant pigments

Some so empty and painfully stark

 

The canvas begins clean and blank

As we learn through our early years

Our brushes find the swirl of colorful smiles

And the blotches from the stain of tears

 

Our feelings paint the things all around us

Like the cheerful flowers in bloom

The spring rains and the winter snows

Even the long nights full of gloom

 

Some of us labor long and hard

As we strive to teach children of our own

Sometimes neglecting the canvas of ourselves

Until we’re sure they’ve matured and grown

 

But nothing is more somber

Than the artist who paints all alone

For their palette of emotion slowly turns gray

No other eyes to see, or smile to show

 

Then like a radiant angel

Into the studio of my life you came

With caressing brush strokes you worked such magic

My canvas of happiness has never looked the same

 

Through tears of joy I asked how you found me

Gently you replied that you knew me from the start

And painting the mural of love was simple

Because you used the colors of my heart

© Timmy Green – 5/4/2001

Amazed October 26, 2010

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Each year I try to compose a poem for Valentine’s Day, because when you feel the emotion between you it can carry on for the whole year. That sentiment is expressed for many holidays, and while each of them carries a significance of their own, Valentine’s Day is a personal expression of love. This is the cornerstone of our lives, the rock we always fall back on, and when it is absent there is darkness, but a whisper, a touch, or a token of emotion can be more powerful than we can imagine, and brighter than sunlight.

This poem I composed for Trish on Valentine’s Day 2007, and I hope to compose many more in our years to come.

“Amazed”

Sometimes I stand amazed

When I think of our time together

So many things that could have failed

So many tests we had to weather

 

What’s even more amazing

Is that I barely remember the things

That could’ve broken or torn us apart

Because you gave my heart its wings

 

There are pitfalls and roadblocks behind us

And more ahead to be sure

So long as my heart beats with yours

I know we can always endure

 

This day we celebrate our love once more

Yet I could do that all the while

There is no sunrise or glowing moon

That means as much as your smile

 

There is no distance to keep us apart

No walls of fire or ice

When I count the blessings of joy in my life

I always count you twice.

© Timmy Green – 2/14/2007

“Bottled Sunshine” October 15, 2010

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Some say after the first year of marriage that “the honeymoon is over,” but I find it encouraging that Trish and I have kept our fire burning much farther than that time frame. Maybe our yearly vacations that serve as our anniversary gifts to each other, and we often refer to them as “honeymoons” have helped, but its also a good sign when you continue to be inspired to write wonderful things about your better half.

I wrote this poem for our six year anniversary, and even though the spring of 2011 will mark 9 years together, I continue to find the emotion to write about our life together.

“Bottled Sunshine”

For six wonderful years

I have tried to find a way

To describe all the things I feel

When I’m with you each day

 

The world all around me

So often speaks to me of you

From sunrise on the river’s bank

To birds soaring in the sky so blue

 

I feel the inspiration

For the arts you love so well

But your bright smile and tender touch

Are more beautiful than I can tell

 

You have shed such vibrant light

Both in my heart and in my mind

That it fills my soul to overflowing

As if you were pouring bottled sunshine

 

You have spilled this light in darkened places

That I had kept away deep inside

So generously you’ve flooded old wounds

Until the pain no longer resides

 

Just as the sun gives life to things that grow

The light you give shines on me

When we met I was a broken shrub

But now I feel like a mighty tree

 

My world revolves around her

In everything I see and hear

Beside her may I forever be

This woman I love so dear.

© Timmy Green – 4/27/2008

 

“Heart on Wheels” October 10, 2010

Posted by tobthebat in Car Guy Thoughts, Poetry.
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This is a poem that represents a defining moment. Once it was clear to me that traveling to New York on a regular basis was part of my future, I purchased a car that was up to the task. My 1995 Dodge Intrepid and I became fast friends, and he was a tireless chariot that carried me there each month. You can read more in depth info about the numerous trips and the history of the Bat-Taxi in another blog post on this site entitled “Eulogy for a Friend.”

I would finish the 12-8 shift on Friday morning, which began my one weekend off a month. I would grab a nap until that afternoon, have dinner with my son, get myself packed, and generally be on the road by 10 or 11pm. The overnight drive had the advantage of light traffic, and I could usually make it to Staten Island by 6am.

The poem mentions the “Arch of Triumph” and the “bridge marking lights” which were indicators that I had once again reached my destination. Anyone who has traveled north on the Jersey Turnpike at night has probably seen the lights that outline the Goethals Bridge as you reach exit 13. Seeing those lights in the distance was akin to a finish line at the end of the home stretch, and after leaving the speed of the turnpike, the actual crossing of the bridge with its lacework of steel girders was a welcoming sight.

As our relationship grew, Trish would ask me about what it meant to be a car guy. I suppose it was an effort to get to know me better, and since she was already enjoying the poetry, she encouraged me to write about it. This poem represents my first effort to capture in words the mythical relationship of man and his machine. It also showcases how strong emotional forces motivate us to use those machines for a higher purpose.

The distance between us at that time could have been a deal-breaker for many other people, but a love-struck car guy races ahead where others might hesitate. Miles are just another number, and exactly how many I rolled up in the two years before we got married I truly dont know, but whatever that number might be, it was well worth the reward.

This poem also graced our wedding program as a fitting tribute to the odds we overcame, and the means that brought us together so many times.

“Heart on Wheels”

In the dark of night

The headlights brightly shine

The wheels steady rolling

Following this heart of mine

 

The roads are no stranger

You see we’ve done this before

But we’re never ready to stop

Til we’re parked at her door

 

It’s a run we look forward to

The “taxi” and I

But it’s never as much fun

When we have to say goodbye

 

So when we get to go back

We eagerly await

To make familiar scenery fly by

Along the asphalt so straight

 

‘Til we reach the long turnpike

Like a greyhound we take flight

And run without tiring

Aiming for the bridge marking lights

 

It feels like the Arch of Triumph

As we cross over to your Island home

I want to wave the checkered flag

To let everybody know

 

That once again we’ve run the course

To see my love in this chariot of steel

I’ll not let this distance keep us apart

As long as my heart has wheels.

 

© Timmy Green – 10/12/2000

All of My Heart October 9, 2010

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This is one of my very first poems to Trish, a bit of free verse, and written after we had seen each other for the second time. I drove to Staten Island to pick her up and bring her back to Virginia for my family’s Fourth of July cookout. This was the first of my many treks to New York over the next two years.

 

 

When I think of you

It means so much

So many things

How much would I give?

To make you happy

To see you smile

To hear you laugh

All of my heart

 

How long would I labor

For joys such as these

How far would I travel?

To be by your side

How long would I wait

To feel your touch again

What would it take?

All of my heart

 

What greater gift can I give?

Or hope to receive

Then I know dreams come true

One cannot give

What already belongs

For my heart is yours

And that makes you

 

All of my heart

© Timmy Green 7/6/2000

Click of the Mouse October 1, 2010

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More poetry from our long distance romance. We met online, which was a new thing back then and I wrote this to her about the experience.

“Click of the Mouse”

A click of the mouse

A face on the screen

Reaching out to people

That I’ve never seen

I scroll through their words

That many throw up like a shroud

You can hear the loss and bitterness

Between accomplishments so proud

So many amazing feats

They seem to do each day

Can they really do all these things?

Or is it fighting pain and dismay?

Honesty is the best policy

I believe the old saying goes

So I held my breath and wrote the truth

Then waited to see what would show

Some that responded seemed nice enough

Some were very sweet

Others were boastful, almost tainted with anger

For those I’d simply click “delete”

Then came a fateful e-mail

From a tender soul far away

On her keyboard by the window she typed

The words her heart had to say

Warmed by her openness and humor

I could not help but respond

The baby steps of our new lives began

That we had waited for so long

Finally on the phone we connected

To give voice to the words we had shared

Each call made our hearts beat stronger

Like none we could ever compare

At last we met face to face

Fear and doubt flew away like birds

Such joy we found in each others arms

Could scarcely be described with words

A click of the mouse

A beat of the heart

An answer to a prayer

What a great place to start

And so my life found happiness

The kind I only dreamed of

This hopeful heart of yours

Has given mine true love

© Timmy Green 9/1/2001

The Quilt of Life September 30, 2010

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In honor of my wife’s love of the art of quilting, I wrote this poem for her in 2001.

“The Quilt of life”

Pieces of fabric placed together

Sewn with threads of love

Many colors, many patterns

Stitched from below and above

Both of us cut the shapes

To find the good in what we have

Then carefully fit them beside each other

As we trim away what’s bad

With precious time we sew the edges

Til an image meets our sight

And we find the proper corners

For our darkness and our light

So the fabrics of our days

Grow from tiny blocks to a spread

Until our quilt of love

Covers the entire bed

The years will go by

As new blocks will reflect

Constant caring and kindness

Never a stitch of neglect

So the quilt blossoms

Til the day our children see

An heirloom of beauty

That shows how true love should be

All the fabrics and colors

Tell of our joys and our strife

But every seam bears the thread of our hearts

That binds the quilt of life

© Timmy Green – 9 / 1/ 2001

“Love’s Bridge” September 27, 2010

Posted by tobthebat in Poetry.
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I decided  I would start sharing some of the poetry I have written to my wife over the past ten years. I had never written poetry before I met her, so she gets all the credit for the inspiration. She often refers to these poems as “her words,” and that would be an accurate description.

Our two years of long distance relationship between Virginia and Staten Island was filled with emails, letters and phone calls, as well as many miles in monthly visits.

As I recall, this was one of the first poems I wrote for her, and it was part of our wedding day program.

“Love’s Bridge”

My angel on the Earth

On her island far away

Yet her love still reaches me

Her whispers to me say,

“My Love, My World”

Within my heart they echo

As I send them back to her

Each time more passionate as they go

The words work wonders

As if they labor with might

To carry cables of dreams and girders of spirit

Time and again, day and night

Until they raise a bridge

Stronger than any span

A bridge of love between us

For this woman and this man

Loneliness and sorrow shall find no passage there

Cast pain to the sea as feet take wings

To be together without a care

The warm embrace, the tender kiss

The joy of you that lights my way

The love that built a bridge between our hearts

A bridge that’s built to stay

© Timmy Green – 7/2/2000

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