Guest Author Loren Korevec's epic poem "The Leaves".

TalkFrank was established as a depository for the creative output for all artists and those who aspire to be (like me). It encourages participation - participation through comment on existing entries but, also, by sharing your thoughts and creative process directly. Some of you have graced this blog with your thoughts and with your art. I always yearn for more!

Today we are pleased to share our space with Loren Korevec. A long-time friend, Loren is a master musician who, as the piano player at the legendary New York institution "Elaines", has entertained some of the greatest names in our culture. But he is so much more. A man deeply committed to his craft, his acerbic wit is second to none. I believe that these things will become very evident when you read his epic poem. We are damned proud to have him!

In the Summer of 1813 four year old Edgar Allen Poe wrote a poem depicting a maritime battle he had observed one early morning over Baltimore harbor.                                                                                                             Imagine his horror when attending an Oriole’s baseball game, he heard his poem set to a poorly crafted English drinking song.  He was further aghast to learn that his poem had been plagiarized by Francis Scott Key, a woman he’d disliked since they were in daycare together.                                                                   Thus began a darkward descent which would shade his work henceforth commencing with this early draft.  He is believed to have composed it while indentured to a cruel abusive landscaper who forced him to rake leaves endlessly each October. Thus:

                                                                            The Leaves

 

See the dewdrops on the leaves

Spring leaves

What a world of promise their rustling conceives!

How they whisper, whisper, whisper

In the balmy air of night!

While the vesper breath

Caress the boughs

With an herbaline delight.

Declaring Springtime, Springtime, Springtime

In a sort of rhyme, rhyme,

To the chlorophilabulation that so lyrically weaves

Through the leaves, leaves, leaves, leaves,

In the stirring and the purring of the leaves.

 

See the lovely wedding wreathes,

Olive wreathes!

What a world of happiness their woven ring fortells!

Through the balmy air of night

Bursting out in their delight!

From the basil greenish scent,

And an in tune.

Where the wafting pollen went

To the turtle dove that coos

While she gloats upon the moon.

Oh, from out the crowns of trees

What a gush of green.

Gold, yellow, red, euphony, equinox thieves

Begin to fall

On the future it believes

Of the rapture it believes

Of the rapture the bereaves

To the falling, falling, falling

Of the leaves, leaves, leaves,

Of the leaves, leaves, leaves, leaves

Leaves, leaves, leaves,

To the spilling and the killing of the leaves.

 

See the brightly glaring leaves

Blazing leaves!

What a tale of terror, their turbulancy shows!

In dazzle daylight glows

With silent scream afright! Too much horrified of height,

With silent scream afright!

They can only sink, sink, to the doom

 

In a bright appealing to the mercy of the fire,

In a gawdy garish groaning with the blind raging fire

Piling higher, higher, higher,

With a desparate desire,

And a resolute endeavor,

Now, now to sit or never, by the side of the pale-faced moon.

 

Oh the leaves, leaves, leaves!

What a tale their terror weaves

Of despaire!

How they drop, and crash, and roar!

What a horror they outpour

On the bosom of the palpitating earth!

Yet the senses fully know,

By the crunching,

And the choking,

How the danger ebbs and flows,

Yet the heart distinctly knows,

From the covering,

And the smothering.

How the danger grows and weaves

By the growing and the weaving in the

Anger of the leaves

Of the leaves, leaves, leaves, leaves

Leaves, leaves, leaves.

 

See the crashing of the leaves,

Mortal leaves!

What a world of solem thought their monody reveals!

In the silence of the night.

How we shiver with afright

At the melancholy menace of their tone!

For every leaf that floats

As fingers on the throats

As a blade

 And the people, ah the people

They that dwell in woods atumble

All alone

And hear tumble, and rumble, stumble

Smothering in that stifling Monet tone,

Fell a glory in so rolling,

On the human heart a stone.

They are neither man nor woman,

They are neither brute nor human,

They are ghouls and their king it is who wills

That like confetti fall that kills

And it fills, fills, fills

A curse upon the hills

With the paean of the leaves!

And he tosses and he heaves

Dropping red, red, red,

In the blinding colors wed o the paean of the leaves

Of the leaves;

Dropping gold, gold, gold

In the blinding killing frost cold,

to the dropping of the leaves,

Of the leaves, leaves, leaves,

To the wilting of the leaves;
Dropping yellows, yellows, yellows,

As he swallows, swallows, swallows,

In a silent gallows mime,

To the falling of the leaves,

Of the leaves, leaves, leaves,

To the pounding of the leaves,
Of the leaves, leaves, leaves.,

Leaves leaves, leaves

To the crashing, and the gasping of the leaves.

 

 

Today's MOZEN: The Power of the Vote 10/4/2014

Words and photo by F LoBuono

In a recent conversation, a friend expressed his frustration with his perceived inability to affect positive change in the world, at least in a broad sense. He felt that the key to success in life is to concentrate on the small, personal stuff, i.e. the things you can truly control, and not worry about things you have little chance of changing. To my surprise, this included voting. He felt the so-called power of the vote was a misnomer and that the individual vote was insignificant. He claimed that there is no REAL power in it. I adamantly disagreed. He argued that, when viewed in its totality, the voting process tends to make a single voice virtually pointless. I countered that there within lies the problem. If everyone felt that way (and, unfortunately, many do) the already pitiful voter turnout in this Country would dip even further. However, if you dig deeper into current voting patterns, he may have a point. This is evidenced most vividly, on opposite ends of the spectrum, in two very distinct and different areas: Ferguson, Missouri and Rockland/Orange Counties in rural New York.

A suburb of St. Louis, Ferguson has been very much in the national news in recent weeks. When a white police officers shot and killed unarmed black teenager Michael Brown, the city erupted in racial violence, pitting the mostly black residents against the mostly white police force. Many leaders from around the Country, both black and white, condemned the violence and slowly began to address the issues that may have caused such animosity. On the surface, the answer would appear obvious. The city's population is overwhelmingly African-American. The city's power structure, including the town council, the police, and fire departments is overwhelmingly white. However, it was not always like this. Ferguson, which had been a middle-class, white suburb as recently as the 1960's, saw it's demographics change when mostly disadvantaged blacks were forced by gentrification in St. Louis to move there.

So, if the population changed to mostly African-American, why didn't the power structure, as well? It's not really hard to find the answer. African-Americans in Ferguson simply don't vote. They haven't in the past and they still don't. In the last local election, only 12% of eligible black voters actually did. 12%. How can you accumulate ANY power if you have no base? Where is your voice? Why is this happening? You can make the case that too many African-Americans have become disenfranchised from so many years of election laws that discourage their participation in the process. And there is validity there. However, to effect change you must make the effort TO change. Sometimes, it may even take a herculean effort. But it must be made. Otherwise, it becomes a Catch-22, i.e. you spend endlessly amounts of time complaining about the fact that nothing ever changes so that no change can ever occur! You must take action, not make excuses. Even the Rev. Al Sharpton, the de facto spokesperson for African-American causes, attempted to shame Ferguson's black population to action by saying "if you do not vote your children will be ashamed of you". Think about it. If Ferguson's African-Americans could mobilize to vote with the same passion and intensity that they recently took to the streets to protest the death of that young man they could wrestle enough power back to change of their own community. Remember what Gandhi said: Be the change you would like to see in the world.

On the other end of the spectrum are the Hasidic and ultra-Orthodox Jewish communities located in Orange and Rockland Counties, New York, particularly those at New Square and Kiryas Joel. Both of those communities, along with a host of others, are populated exclusively by members of their particular Jewish sect. They are insular, if not isolated, mimicking in many ways the shtetls of Eastern Europe. That is they dress the same, pray the same, talk the same, and VOTE the same. Yes, members of these communities vote as one. And vote they do - often by the thousands. They vote in their own self interest as guided by their supreme leader. And they are effective. In fact, they are so effective with their so-called block votes, that they often usurp the voting process and overwhelm any opposition. The POWER of their vote is validated by the fact that virtually every candidate for State or National office makes an official visit to one of, if not all, of these communities. Why? So they can secure the thousands of votes they will assuredly get for that single visit (should the Grand Rebbe give his blessing).

What they do is not illegal. In fact, it may even be brilliant. They use the system, as it was designed, to effect change on their behalf. However, even though it is not illegal, many now also see it as immoral. Since these communities are so insular, they do not participate in other town activities or encourage others to participate in theirs. Often, the needs and desires of the ultra-Orthodox communities are in direct opposition with those of the rest of the town. But, using the power of the block vote, they often overwhelm any dissenting voice. By voting together, they can dominate local elections thereby eliminating any competing interests. This is particularly detrimental in local school boards. Orthodox communities do not send their children to public schools. Their children are educated in yeshivas. Therefore, when elected to local school boards, they tend to vote against any improvement in schools that they do not send their children to. This, of course, causes the local public schools to decay, sometimes, to the point of closure. The same thing happens on local town boards, as well. Candidates from the ultra-Orthodox community are elected by block vote and use their position to advance the cause of their own community, often to the detriment of the community at large. In response to these actions, many towns are now considering establishing voting districts so that each segment of the population may be properly represented. THIS is the power of the vote.

The symbol of power in ancient Rome was the Fasces. It was a bundle of reeds lashed together. The message is sublime and powerful: a single reed can easily be snapped. However, tie a bunch of the them together and it's a whole different story. From this, the US took the slogan from the Latin, E Pluribus Unum - From Many, One. When it comes to voting, we may look at it yet another way: From One, Many. Use your power. Vote. It's only wasted if you don't use it at all.

Today's MOZEN 9/27/2014

Words and Photo by F LoBuono

Late one night, at a favored watering hole, the conversation flowing as easily as the cocktails we imbibed, I asked a friend, how do you define love? Without hesitation he answered, there's a thousand facets to that stone. I nodded my head in silent agreement and ordered another drink.

Today's MOZEN: The Right Stuff 9/26/2014

Photo courtesy MLB. Words F LoBuono

Generally, when it comes to so-called hero worship, I'm not given to hyperbole. In fact, I can be quite acerbic when it comes to elevating any individual to such lofty status. That label, hero, is far too often misplaced. For example, I was very critical of the response to basketball superstar LeBron James' reception upon his return to the Cleveland Cavaliers. I was actually even critical of the ENTIRE city of Cleveland for it! So, I may be described as having the prototypical New York indifference to such matters of little importance. We simply don't have the time.

Now, with that said, I have to add my voice to the tens of millions of others who are singing the praises of Derek Jeter. It is not everyday that any individual can bring a City, a Nation, and people from around the world to their feet, much less a New York sports figure. But that's just what he did. For a brief, shinning moment, Derek Jeter embodied everything we hope that sports would be - wholesome, dramatic, and deeply emotional. A skinny kid from Kalamazoo, Michigan would, for twenty years, rule the greatest City on the planet. And on his final day in the Bronx, retiring after so many years, in his final at bat, in the bottom of the ninth of a tie game and with a man in scoring position in his final game at Yankee Stadium, he comes through with a yet another hit. YANKEES WIN! THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YANKEES WIN!!!! Yes, it's much better than a Hollywood script.

Some will still ask, why - he's just a baseball player? But, that would miss the point of sport and the role it plays not only in our culture, but in those around the world, as well. Like it not, sports are inseparable from everyday life - and that includes kids from the inner- city playing on a broken basketball hoop to those in rural Brazil kicking around a cloth soccer ball. Sport cannot be avoided. So, we tend to elevate our athletes to a lofty status and expect Herculean efforts from them on, and off, the field. It is often too much to ask and many fail miserably under the pressure. When you add trying to live up to this ideal in the most competitive market in the world for it's marquee franchise (as is Jeter's case), the pressure might be unbearable.

But, this is exactly what Derek Jeter did. He achieved remarkable success in his endeavors -all of them - on, and off, the field. He embodied the ideal of what we would want in not only a ballplayer, but a son, as well. And, he did it for a franchise and a City that DEMANDS excellence. Jeter did not disappoint. His statistics are excellent, if not the best of all time. Certainly, two stand out. One is individual, and a testament to the man. The other is team oriented and gets to the real root of the issue. Jeter ranks 6th on the all-time list for most hits in the game of baseball. Think about it. I asked a sports producer how many men would he estimate have played the game of major league baseball? His response was about 50,000. So, Jeter was more "successful' than 49,993 of them. Phenomenal. But, perhaps, the second is more important because it gets to the heart of Jeter's and the NY Yankees' success. With Jeter as Captain of the team, the Yankees won five World Championships in his twenty years with the club. Five. Winning was as much Jeter as it is the Yankees as it is New York.

Look, it's no mistake the NY Yankees wear pinstriped uniforms. They were designed to mimic the look of a typical NY businessman going to work. THAT is what New York is about and what the New York Yankees are about - the business of successful baseball.  They are inseparable. As is Derek Jeter. He went about his "business" with class and professional and never gave anything less than his absolute best. We all strive for that. Derek Jeter was lucky enough to apply it on the greatest stage in sport. And he did not fail. We New Yawka's like that.
Unfortunately, the Yankees, for the second year in a row, failed to make the playoffs. I think that Jeter would be the first to tell you how much that sucks. Fall is just SUPPOSED to have Jeter and the Yankees as part of it. It just doesn't feel right. But, somehow, we'll just have to find a way to live without both! In the meantime, rage on you crazy diamond. Rage on for a few more days. You've earned that. Yes, thank you god for making Derek Jeter a New York Yankee.

Today's MOZEN: Keep The Faith 9/24/2014

I was in a bit of a funk today. I'm always a bit melancholy when Summer ends and Autumn begins. Yes, Fall is a spectacular season in the Hudson Valley. The whole region is alive with breathtaking color. It features warm, dry days with plentiful sunshine, and nights that are crisp and clear (GREAT sleeping weather). Wonderful. What's not to like? But I'm always sorry to see the Summer, my favorite season, go, too. I'm fortunate to have the Sicilian genes that make Summer so manageable for me. I tease my friends that I get dark merely from looking at a photo of the sun! For me, it is also my most productive season. I love the outdoor activities most frequently associated with Summer. So, I'm ambivalent about the change: I love the fall but hate losing summer to have to get it. It was getting me down.

So, I decided to take a walk in my old neighborhood. It was a beautiful morning and I had to drop something off with a friend in the area anyway. A brisk walk can usually be quite effective in aiding me to change my mindset. However, on this day, it was not working. In fact, it had an adverse effect. Being in my old neighborhood was actually making me feel lonely. Like the summer, I found myself missing what was gone. It was pretty depressing. After stopping at my friend's, I was making my way back to my apartment when I noticed the glass door from one of the houses that I was passing was ajar and had a sign on it. I felt it unusual for the door to be open like that. I thought, perhaps, the sign would explain it. I came closer to read it. Here is what I found:

No matter what happens in life, be good to people. Being good to people is a wonderful legacy to leave behind.

This is what I mean when I tell people to keep the faith. It has nothing to do with religion. It has everything to do with the belief that if you keep an open mind and an open heart, peace will come to you, sometimes in the smallest but most effective ways. Messages of faith, hope, and love are all around and come to us, often in the strangest ways and in the oddest places.

Todays MOZEN: R E S P E C T 9/16/2014

Words and photo by F LoBuono

I have been blessed with the good fortune to have powerful women figures in my life. In fact, virtually every woman that I have ever had a relationship with has been one of strength and character. I suppose that it is a matter of simple logic. If I could not respect her, why would I be involved with her for more than a minute in the first place? And this goes across the board for me - familial and romantic. My mother, my sister, my girlfriends, my wife, all of them, are, or have been, powerful figures to me. My aunt had her Masters in education long before it was fashionable for Italian-American women to have a college degree. My sister is a successful businesswoman. All of my cousins are mothers, educated, and successful. And, Stella, the matriarch is, well, almost legendary for her strength and wisdom.

Every relationship is built on respect - mutual respect. I think that I learned this lesson most deeply from my parents. They did not have a perfect relationship. They both had strong personalities and that was bound to cause conflict. If EVERYONE is saying, "hey, be reasonable, do it MY way", tensions are going to exist. And they did. Still, with that said, there was love and, when they clicked, they made a wonderful team. In the most important ways, there was perfect harmony between them. I believe that the root of  that harmony was a tremendous amount of mutual respect they had not only for each others strengths, but for each others weakness, as well. They allowed each other to express what they did best and aided the other when they were not as capable. It was beautiful.

Despite there outward conflicts, they had a deep, abiding faith in the what is right and what is wrong. It was clear, concise, and, in a sense, non-judgmental. And it was shared - unequivocally. By this they meant certain truths are fundamental and inalienable.  One of those truths concerned violence towards women. Both so strongly believed that violence towards a woman, in any shape or form, was unacceptable. And both expressed this statement on an regular and consistent basis. My father would often take me aside, especially at times when he was most angry with my mother and say, "Frankie, women will make you mad. Really mad. They will challenge you. You will want to strike out. Don't. NEVER strike a woman. Never raise you hand to a woman. No good can ever come of it - not for her, or you." He was never more right, in every sense: women have made me angry. I have wanted to strike out. And I have done my best my whole life to live up to that standard.

However, perhaps the strongest lesson on this matter came from my mother, the one and only, Stella. Whenever I was about to leave for a date, she would call out to me:

"Frankie, remember, you have a mother and a sister."

"What the hell does THAT mean," was my snide, standard reply.

"You know EXACTLY what that means."

And I did. I still do.

Respect. R E S P E C T. Always.

In Our Memory. The Tribute Part 2

All photos property of F LoBuono

 

In Our Memory. 9/11/2001 Part 1

all photos the property of F LoBuono

Today's MOZEN: Practice Makes Perfect. 9/9/2014

Words and photo by F LoBuono

I have worked hard to try and understand human nature. I think that, perhaps, I may be beginning to. One thing apparent to me is that we have a dual nature. Humans are capable of great compassion and empathy while at the same time being guilty of indescribable cruelty. In today's super-connected world, it's easy to find. Just scan a page of Facebook and you will see the full range of human emotion. There are entries that warm the heart followed immediately by ones that shock the senses. I think that I understand the complexity of our emotions and that hate is as real as love. However, I also believe that we as humans should strive for a higher ideal and for ways to minimize hate and maximize love. Isn't this the point of all spirituality and religion?

So, why does it seem that, especially lately, hate seems to be triumphing over love? All of us, firsthand, are witnessing the brutality that is sweeping the world, often in the name of god. Why? I suppose the simple answer is that it's easier to be hard. It's easier to destroy then it is to create. It is easier to give in to the baser emotions of greed, lust, jealousy, and anger. It takes an effort to reach a higher plane. It takes sublime thinking to achieve a level of consciousness where fear is not the ruling factor. To attain enlightment we must overcome the strong urges that keep us tethered to emotions that have been with us since the beginning of our very consciousness as a species. We cannot, and should not, discount these emotions. They are what we are. The challenge is to find the right place where we understand our negative feelings but are not ruled by them.

Like exercising (or writing for that matter), there are times when being nice seems like drudgery. It just "feels" better being pissed off. We'd much rather bite someone's head off then take an extra minute to understand why they may have made you angry and that it probably wasn't all THAT important in the first place. A quick flash to anger usually is our first reaction. However, over the course of time, if we stay disciplined and focused, allowing our initial impulse to pass becomes less of an effort. Sure, there will be days that we have to make that extra effort but, in time, if we practice what we preach, being nice will be no effort at all. In fact, like all things that are practiced over time, kindness, compassion, and patience become second nature. In Buddhism, is is called Mindfulness. And it is something that is worked towards on in a daily basis. From my understanding, mindfulness is an actue awareness, even unto a molecular level, of what is going on around us and the interrelationship of all things. Mindfulness allows for consideration of all things. It is a simple concept that takes, according to Buddhist traditions, many lifetimes to achieve. But, as with all long journeys of discovery, it starts with the first step.

The old adage practice makes perfect applies to so many things in life. The more you do something, the more it becomes so-called second nature, the easier it becomes to accomplish. Of course, the greater the goal, the greater the challenge, the greater the effort is required to achieve success. However, and this is the point, the MORE we do something, the LESS difficult it tends to become. This is true of sports, writing, and attitude. The more we practice mindfulness, the easier it becomes to live with honesty, integrity, and compassion. In other words, it becomes easy to live a full, fulfilled, happy, loving life. PRACTICE. PRACTICE. PRACTICE. Eventually, you'll get real good at it.

Now, is that so hard?

Today's MOZEN: Light the Light Shine. 9/3/2014

Words and photo by F LoBuono

Like an unseen current we are swept away in the daily flow of wake, work, eat, sleep, repeat. That's particularly acute here, in the shadow of, arguably, the world's greatest metropolis and, certainly, the most competitive. The frenetic pace of New York and New Yorkers is legendary. But, how, from time to time, we all need to step off that conveyor belt of mind-numbing boredom. It's easy to forget that the simplest things can provide the relief we seek. We just need open our eyes, our minds, and our hearts to experience them.

A sunrise, no matter where you find yourself, is FREE. Always. Even those who may live under circumstances far less fortunate than mine can find solace in the sunlight. As the light nourishes the flower, let it feed your soul. Remember, the soul is the one thing that can never be taken without your permission. Your body may be enslaved, but never your being.

We must all take the time to nourish our souls with light and love, wherever we may find it.

Like the simple sun flower, turn your face to the sun and be filled again.

It only takes a moment.