‘And the Sun’s smiling, too’

‘and the Sun’s smiling too’ trgates, 5/09/2018
we turn over the earth,
looking forward to life pushing up through,
before you know,
only one sprout peeks out. 
like an iceberg,
it’s heart may be five times its peak,
here too is safety for a seal chased by polars. 
life moves aside mud, stones,
whatever’s in the way of standing,
not much to a causal walker,
yet one leaf at a time rests upon where our first parents came. 
by the Moon’s cast light,
shadows appear at night,
the Sun’s smiling too,
applauding the collage,
where Earth, Moon, and Sun join the dance of a wee bulb making its way, 
resting upon a throne. 
each have their own,
yet never alone,
why the Sun’s smiling too. 

‘Out of Crosswords’

‘Out of crosswords’ trgates,5/9/2018
pulling back the doorway curtain,
bringing grandpa’s weekly laundry,
“Grandpa’s sleeping, Mommy.”
Dad’s Dad,
this little guy,
nearing four,
learned that sometimes those you love do not wake up -
that night, another first,
saying hello to one asleep,
while sleeping. 
seems like I’m almost out of crosswords,
so many goodbyes,
squares not finding letters.
I stopped filling the board,
maybe won’t need to say hello to another while asleep. 
maybe this today Mother does Grandpa Charm’s laundry, again. 
when they die,
you just don’t say goodbye. 
five letters remain: 
hello. 

‘Then,there,here,Mothers’

‘then, there, here, Mothers’trgates,5/11/2018
Imperfections deified over the years,
memories, interpretations of then, there, morph into here,
Mothers in Repose,
we join psalms of eternal projections. 
perfection, often our present requirement.
Mothers being mothers,
in the way of our desires,
pave the way for others,
irritating, at times,
yet securing doors to open,
if only dared to walk through-
overview, here, interpretations as well. 
then, there, here,
Mothers might receive cards,
here, and there receive a thank you,
sometimes a, “I love you.”
whether here, there, then, 
one thing she’ll do: Mother. 
Behold, how she beholds.

‘Moments of Sunshine ‘

Moments of sunshine: 5/7/18,trgates 
Wee lads, and lasses squealing. 
Papa rolling around with little guy, or girl. 
Remembering the translucent blues of my Grandfather. 
friends whose happiness, or sadness still brings hope. making a thunderstorm somehow better than cool. 
Moments of sunshine, always there awaiting to be seen.

‘Innocence in English/Greek’

‘Innocence' timothy r gates, 10/04/2014; Greek translation by Chryssa Velissariou
Innocence robbed,
love deceived. 
I awoke as dead, 
love smothered, 
innocence stolen. 
Love baptized 
the pillage of 
memory's harm. 
Anesti! Risen! 
Smiling, 
we stroll, 
innocence and I.

«Αθωότητα» timothy r gates , 10.04.2014
H Αθωότητα κουρσεμένη,
Η αγάπη απατημένη.
Ξύπνησα νεκρός,
η αγάπη πνιγμένη,
η αθωότητα κλεμμένη.
Η Αγάπη αναβάπτισε
τη λεηλασία από
τη βλάβη της μνήμης.
Ανέστη! Ανέστη!
Χαμογελαστοί,
βαδίζουμε πλέον μαζί,
η αθωότητα κι εγώ.

translation by Chryssa Velissariou

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6FfiBPX7PQ


Sent from my iPhone

‘I’m in awe’

'I am in awe'                               timothy r gates, 9/26/2015;5/09/2018

Looking into their eyes,
I recall when I saw
fairies, imps, gnomes, angels,
and God.
Then I listened to the detractors,
they said they knew better.
So important to prove that this romantic,
Peter Pan heart is not fact.
Fact?
Funny, what are called facts,
these change too.
I stopped seeing.
Today, for a moment,
I put on the lenses
of a little friend's unwitting
innocence.
Looking into the heavens,
I find myself beyond faith's and science's declarations.
I am in awe.
Hello, my friends,
fairies, imps, gnomes, angels -- Beholding,
I am in awe.

‘Haiku in three parts’

’Haiku in three parts’ trgates, May, 2018
1.  Love affirmed is lived
Birds hugged by trees understand 
Bird shit, a given. 
2.  Jesus loves the world
Children do even when beat
Please, save them instead. 
3.  Kindness helps, most smile
Smiles may bring ornery grins
Grins erupting, laugh. 

‘Falling in love’

‘Falling in Love’
timothyrgates,5/3/2018
a little boy,
seeing those same eyes,
translucent blues. 
teens feelingly the 
moon kiss the sun,
like eternity’s precipice,
a youth’s hippie dance
matching such stars.
a little girl,
with her own pirouettes -
well, not yet,
though in her eyes they’re seen -
“grass will not touch my feet,”
also found in a look of displeasure. 
falling in love,
“it’s only puppy love,”
is thrown at youths,
forgetting that love is love,
young, or old. 
watch the awe looks in wee ones, looking up,
fireworks ablaze, erupting in,
“Wowwww!” 
remember looking across the room, 
beholding that heartthrob,
why it can hurt like hell as well. 
teens first broken hearts,
“it hurts deep into your bones, your heart feels like it’s being ripped out,”
why when they fall for good
it’s more than puppy love.  
falling in love,
nothing better,
unless you trip onto your face. 
that hurts like hell. 

‘Hug, a wordless little girl ‘

‘a hug, wordless little girl ‘         trgates,4/29/2018
week after week,
wordless she talked,
her Mommy near worn out,
alone in this walk,
dad walked away,
she’d smile as her little girl walked with me around the store. 
we talked, but mostly without words. 
(I know, hard to believe for me,)
“Autism,” often still tagged as mental illness, and often rejected by insurers in those days — 
since then, Mother, and her quiet little daughter had first walked in,
two years in,
the first support walk took place. 
every week I anticipated this speechless angel. 
she would put her hand up,
waiting for mine,
never thought this was so unique, 
I was being taught in my silence, 
and our stroll continued until Mom was done shopping. 
then a surprise,
right before leaving,
she reached up again, I thought for my hand. 
I received a hug, 
and a, 
“I love you.” 
tears ran down Mommy’s cheeks,
with a whisper,
“She’s never hugged,
or told someone that she loved them.”
a door opened, now 
holding hands before coming into the store,
only to switch to mine. 
“I love you,”
has forever changed,
our wordless visits,
only bested by these three, with our weekly goodbye hug. 

***a few businesses since, every so often we run into each other. the unsought gifts here leave a tattooed piece upon you soul. Grateful.

‘Funny’

‘funny?’   Trgates,4/16/2018
funny, some days you remember every heart song,
many fallen asleep,
many here, but not face to face. 
and, the fewer, still,
sharing hours together,
sometimes irritating each other,
most times glad to walk in the same air. 
tears flowing together,
laughing until it’s harmony,
singing Memory Eternal,
celebrating Many Years,
pllllaaayyyiing until two year olds grow to do the same,
knowing they too may get to watch this with the fewer. 
funny, memory of days
meet the same place —
together, and today. 
funny, well not always.

‘Behold, your Mother’

‘behold your Mother’ trgates,4/7/2018
broken, a Mother looks on,
songs of salvation are not found,
only, “My Son’s dying.”
a heart once filled with wonderment,
now overflowing with grief,
“Oh, sorrowful Mother,”
beats her chest as to be ready to resuscitate him when let down briefly into her arms. 
only dry-socket tears remain,
She’s spent,
then barely whispered words fall from her lovely Son,
making sure she’s not alone,
“Behold Your Mother,”
this chrism’s exchange sprinkles others baptized by a dry land’s sorrow. 
“Incline your ear,”
from every child’s Mother,
finds instead from our lips,
“Mother, incline yours.”
Ave Maria. Ave Marie. 

'without mothers' timothy r gates, 5/12/2012

without mothers 
there'd be no sons and daughters 
"incline your ear, Queen," 
your son might listen to your plea, 
"Mercy." 
without mothers 
there'd be no mother 
nursing God 

’May4,1970-May4,2018’

‘May 4, 1970 - May 4, 2018’ trgates,5/04/2018
always grateful,
an American,
a kid afraid to die
in their War 
(they refused to call it a war.). 
what it’s usually about,
their war,
fought by the kids of America. 
God, Country, Apple Pie,
and pledge allegiance,
not to our blood stained Flag,
but to those sending kids to kill kids —
of course they’ll call you
ungrateful, Impertinent, unpatriotic, communist, even terrorist. 
there’s a reason it’s called the “business of war.”
Vietnam, now maker of our shoes, and clothes,
no longer the “damn enemy.”
full circle,
“you’re either with us, or you’re against us,”
a good American being one who stands attention, 
genuflecting before Presidents who would be kings, with both Houses,  those acting like they’re different,
yet send kids to kill kids. 
yes, we seem to buy the b.s., in lockstep telling each other what is true patriotism, listening to Emperors without Clothes. 
“Four Dead in OHIO,”
four innocent children of good Americans killed,
uniformed innocent children ordered to change to real bullets 
(they did NOT take out rubber, crowd control bullets 
without a command. funny, our leaders of our beloved country don’t own it. go figure.)
“Love it, or leave it!” —
mantra of those not celebrating freedom. 
like most on May 4, 1970,
we love it, 
“America the Beautiful,”
no camouflage,
blood stained, drenched Flag, wanting our children, and children’s children to know this freedom to love. 

‘Pilgrim in Black-Cash

Pilgrim, Man in Black 

hero, saint? he knew better

didn’t lockstep

Vietnam, Wounded Knee, Folsom,

he stood against America’s leadership 

America the Beautiful, Patriot,

he stood with all, glad for the Red, White and Blue

when you lose your beloved,

hurt, and prayer stand in conflict,

holding hands in tension

there are no answers

there are no questions

Pilgrims, in black

bump our toes 

Pilgrims, know the Sun rises,

daily,

strolling in the Garden,

the Moon reminds us,

it’s a matter of seeing. trgates,2/07/2018