Sunday, December 30, 2012

Enchanted place on the island, Long Island Poem for New Year's Eve Sunday

We all have our very own places on the island that cast their spell if we stop long enough to reflect. Patti Tana presents hers: "The pond behind my home is a source of delight and inspiration in all seasons."

The Pond on Kaintuck Lane
Patti Tana

Before the Epsteins built this house
and the small stone dam, a vernal pond
swelled and shrank in a summer
meadow of grazing cows.
Glazed with winter
the pond drew the children
down from the hills ––
voices ringing, ice skates zinging.

Cows are gone, but behind the house
the pond still lives, larger and deep,
freezing and thawing with the seasons.
Ducks and geese and swans feast
on floating gardens.
In winter they stamp and peck
and plow through ice forming
solid skin on the fluid pond.

On the other side
a train flickers through the trees
while a dragon, lit mouth to tail,
courses through the water.
The moon casts a shimmering glow.
And when no moonlight hides their light
the pond draws the stars down the sky
into the indigo night.

'The Pond on Kaintuck Lane' by Patti Tana.
Published with author's permission.

Patti Tana, Professor Emerita of English at Nassau Community College, is associate editor of Long Island Quarterly and the Walt Whitman Birthplace Long Island Poet of the Year 2009. Her eighth collection of poems is Any Given Day (Whittier Publications, Inc., 2011). Listen to her read her poems at www.pattitana.com

Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - Lonely Plum Island Christmas 1843, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Lonely Plum Island Christmas 1843, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Christmas--1843
Sarah D. Bowditch

Amid the world's gay throngs to-night
    There's mirth and festive glee;
But none amid those hearts so light
    Will cast one glimpse on me.

No ray from Hope's bright star is cast
    To this lone isle of the sea;
And lonely and sad the Christmas has passed,
    And left no mirth for me.

There's many a friend that once caressed,
    As merry as merry can be;
But, ah! the one that I love best
    Will forget to think of me.

Then turn my soul away from earth;
    Look upward still, and see
The stars that shine on the halls of mirth
    As brightly beam on thee.

Then let me not murmur at my fate,
    Though lonely and sad I may be,
For the angels whose birth we celebrate,
    Brought "tidings of joy" to me.

We have found this poem on the Long Island Chapter of the U.S. Lighthouse Society, based in Cutchogue.


Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - All I want for Christmas, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Sunday, December 16, 2012

All I want for Christmas, Long Island Poem for Sunday


How poignant does today's poem sound. We want our close ones safe, be it on antipodes or in our home towns.

All I want for Christmas
Claudia Sukman

You were motionless under the blankets
Waiting for Santa Listening to the whispers of your father and me as we slipped in and out of rooms
Unearthing presents to wrap
Listening to the savory sounds of scissors, marching through gift paper
Listening to the scrunch of cellophane tape, measured out and sliced
Closing eyes to hurry away the night
So that it could be Christmas

You are motionless inside the darkness
Hearing shows slither though the Baghdad night
Hearing the heavy fabric of a chador sweep into a recessed doorway
Hearing the exhale of a breath un-tethered
You wait, wishing for the dawn to come
So that it could be light

I am motionless, watching the snow whitewash the night sky
Inhaling the Christmas tree
Shaking our the last drops of eggnog from the carton
Waiting
Wanting you safe
Wanting you home

'All I want for Christmas' by Claudia Sukman. Included in Stocking Stuffers / seasonal and holiday poems by Prehensile Pencil Publications. For purchase at Think Long Island First.
Published with author's permission.


Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - Feast, Long Island Poem for Chanukah Sunday

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Think Long Island First store to close at the end of December

Think Long Island First logo
Dear Artists and Supporters,

We regret to inform you that the Think Long Island First store in Oyster Bay will close its doors on December 31st.

More than two years ago we have set up to bring locally made items to the wider public. Having started with 28, we have grown to display works of over 130 Long Island artists - wood turners and carvers, potters, quilters, jewelers, knitters, painters, photographers, writers, chefs, soap and candle makers among others. Our goal was not only to fill the shelves with locally made items, but also to present the artists, their techniques, stories, and inspirations.

This has been an immense experience for both of us - from an incredible learning process in all matters of arts and crafts to the unforgettable chance of forging relationships with the local artists, our loyal customers, and local organizations.

Our deep appreciation goes to artists who trusted us with their artwork, to customers who chose to purchase unique, local wares, and to supporters who participated in various events we have staged at the store and in the local communities. We are vastly indebted to All for this opportunity.

As we close this chapter we are preparing for the next. Jolanta will resume full time management of her husband's medical practice, continue good work with various charities on Long Island, and enjoy time with her two little grandsons. Ewa returns to full time engagement with a New York City based charity helping children in developing countries obtain free, quality cleft lip and palate care. She plans to complete her family tree project and explore poetry translation.

With our thanks and best wishes,

Ewa and Jolanta


Sunday, December 9, 2012

Holiday gifts $25 and under

Just a few ideas of gifts $25 and under - jewelry for her, books and calendars for him, decorative accents and ornaments for home, treats for dogs, items for horsemen, candles for ambiance lovers, delicious cookies and biscotti for epicures:

Colorful glass beads
fired by Gea Hines
Hand carved ornaments
by Don Dailey
Shining glass ornaments
decorated by Chris Murphy
Horse theme table runner
by Caroline Kielbasa
Pine scented candles
from East End Candle
From Bliss to Gratitude
by Lorraine Miller
Tantalizing dog treats
from Little Lexi's Barkery
Cookies and biscotti - sweet!
by Stone Ridge Farm
Relaxing candles
from Jamesport Candle
Christmas cards - The Farm
by Linda Mondello
Gingerbread soap - Naturally
Handmade by Susan
Majolica clay ornaments
handpainted by Sue Adler
Dog calendar for 2013
by Mollie Eckelberry
Wood block ornament
by Nancy Ferrari
Clips and charms
by Sharon LaMonica
Peppermint soap
by Susan Linares
Captivating glass pendants
by Jane Cairns Irvine
Holiday poetry as read at
Small Business Saturday


Feast, Long Island Poem for Chanukah Sunday

There are many ways to celebrate the approaching holidays and our melting pot era favors these and more - you may deck the halls and a Christmas tree (so Dickensian yet originated in late 15th century Germany), light up 9 menorah candles (since 2nd century BCE), erect a Festivus pole (in popular culture since 1997), hang a bunch of mistletoe to kiss under (first documented in 16th century England), share fresh Kwanzaa fruit (since 1966), mark winter solstice (since Neolithic times).

Polish tradition has it that animals speak in human voices on Christmas Eve. What would cats under the care of poet Joan Digby tell us?

Feast
Joan Dibgy

Photo by Joan Digby
Today I fed the cats
on sturgeon

It's Chanukah
and who knows
but in the colony
there lurks
a Jewish feline
assimilated
yet longing for food
that strongly smells
of the old country

'Feast' by Joan Digby. Included in Stocking Stuffers / seasonal and holiday poems by Prehensile Pencil Publications. For purchase at Think Long Island First.
Published with author's permission.

Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - The Cardinal, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Cardinal, Long Island Poem for Sunday

The Cardinal
Patricia Rossi

I beckon you in the early morn to dance upon my bedroom windowsill and just as accordion streaks of radiant light gently awaken my sleepy eyes from a peaceful night of slumber, may my drowsy ears hear your voice, a melodious proclamation that a new day has graciously been bestowed upon me.

And just when your symphonic chirps grace the final stanza of your jubilant morning song, I will lift my head and heart to the heavens, join my hands in solemn prayer and humbly request that my path be laden with plentiful sightings of you today….everyday.

Spring…On a quiet evening, may I be so blessed as to capture a glimpse of you as you gracefully flutter in a field bursting with pink wildflowers, just as the sun begins its amber descent.

Summer… In mid-afternoon when a threatening sky suddenly prevails and a harsh rain temporarily begins to fall upon us, may I find you precariously tucked in a hydrangea tree, sheltered from the pounding precipitation by its purple hued floral spheres.

Late Fall… May my eyes behold you resting upon a weathered flower box packed with vibrant autumn colors….Amongst the burnt orange and bright yellow petals there you are…. donned in a dangling ivy vine, faded to the palest of sage greens by the warmth of summer days gone by.

And deep in Winter… when I am indeed blinded by whiteness, miraculously I see you, majestically perched on a snow blanketed branch.

Indeed, you are more than a red feathered cloaked Christmas beauty.

Truly you are as brilliant in color, as you are in meaning.

You evoke the spirit and the destiny of the loved ones I have lost.

For the world is now theirs, un-tethered souls, free to soar and able to triumphantly rejoice, as they make their presence known to me each and every day……….through you.

'The Cardinal' by Patricia Rossi. Included in Stocking Stuffers / seasonal and holiday poems by Prehensile Pencil Publications. For purchase at Think Long Island First.
Published with author's permission.

Patricia introduced herself: "I am an attorney by trade, but my true passion is writing. A number of my personal essays have been published. I have dabbled in the arts, love creating collages. I have done some grant writing and actually have been awarded grants from NYS. I utilized the funds to create art classes and poetry appreciation for children grades 1-4 in lower income areas of Nassau County. It has been quite rewarding. The funds have run out, but with the assistance of the Freeport Memorial Library I keep the program running. I also currently teach creative writing workshops to cancer survivors and teens."


Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - Christmastide Haiku and Going Home for Christmas by Edmund Miller

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Store decked for the holidays

Partridge in a Pear Tree, our signature red ribbon everywhere, winter hat and scarves, soft glow candles, sparkling jewelry, festive cards, Christmas quilts, gifts of carved and turned wood, ceramics and coasters, gingerbread and peppermint soaps, snowmen, and more gifts and more holiday red...




Sunday, November 25, 2012

Creative pursuits welcomed the holiday season at Think Long Island First

Yesterday, holidays officially started at Think Long Island First with the Small Business Saturday events.

Modest but enthusiastic group of guests and artists gathered around our table to decorate majolica ornaments under the guidance of potter Sue Adler, tie impressive bows and gift wrap in eco-friendly fashion as introduced by Kristi Halpern, Jolanta Zamecka, and Ewa Rumprecht respectively, and benefit from the expert knowledge of Feng Shui presented by Sharon LaMonica.

Award winning Long Island limericks were read by one of the judges, poet Joan Digby. Evening ended with holiday poetry reading and music cum historical commentary by fiddler Eric Marten, and his limber jack and beating straws playing wife Trudy.

Painter Yvonne Dagger and wood carver Don Dailey provided live demonstrations throughout the day. 



We want to thank All Artists who made the day so special and All Guests who graced us with their company.

Happy Holidays!


Holiday poems by Edmund Miller, Long Island Poem for Sunday

We had a great pleasure to hear Edmund Miller read the following poems at the Music and Poetry afternoon at Think Long Island First this Saturday. Edmund started with the Going Home for Christmas and continued to haiku poems. The one about chestnuts, New Year's, and an old man was particularly well received, Edmund was asked to read it again.

GOING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Edmund Miller

Chewing gum like Zeno's Paradox
a classical marine
passes through Penn Station
with a dufflebag
with roses
with a teddy bear tucked under his arm.

CHRISTMASTIDE HAIKU
Edmund Miller

The wind is nippy,
But the poinsettias sing–
Then it's warm inside.

In the afternoon
Overlooking Christmas shoppers,
Just half the moon.

Overcast in pink.
The clouds lower upon us
To bring virgin snow.

Cold wind through the trees
Then across the clear black sky
Comes the Christmas star.

The gift wrap of snow
melts, washing slowly away
with the holiday.

Rat-a-tats of rain,
clearing the dawn sky, invite
bright light for New Year.

Here in Central Park
Roasting the New Year’s chestnuts
Still the same old man.

The fragile trees
break . . . icicles
in the breeze.

Winter morning
Ice in the milkbottle
Still the stars

The cold freezing rain
weaves trails of tiny paw prints
in yesterday’s snow.

Nutmeg in eggnog
Birthdays the room with New Year’s.
Outside . . . icicles.

Stormy dark above
pink underneath at sunset
chiaroscuro clouds.

Published with author's permission. Included in Stocking Stuffers / seasonal and holiday poems by Prehensile Pencil Publications. For purchase at Think Long Island First.

Edmund Miller, Senior Professor in the English Department at LIU–Post, is a widely published scholar and creative writer. In addition to books about seventeenth-century British literature including three about the poet George Herbert, he has published a collection of stories called Night Times and many volumes of poetry, including the major poetic work The Go-Go Boy Sonnets: Men of the New York Club Scene(2005). Using the traditional sonnet sequence to explore the world of the male dancers, this unique work combines lightness of tone with a seriousness of purpose by including biographical notes, a glossary, and seven indexes as well as translations of individual poems into nearly two dozen languages. Recently, Miller has been writing plays, including The Greeks Have a Word (which revives the form of the Greek satyr play), Royal Favorite (a Jacobean tragicomedy in blank verse), The Last Conquests of Beau Fersen (a Shavan political comedy), and The Colonel’s Lady (a Restoration mystery) besides short plays. He has had several staged readings.


Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - Sandy Poems, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Friday, November 23, 2012

Welcome the Holidays at Think Long Island First

Holiday hand painted majolica ornament by Sue Adler. Photo by Sue Adler.
We hope you will help us kick off the holiday season with a series of free, fun events we have organized for Small Business Saturday, on November 24th, which, as you know, is dedicated to small local stores, like ours. We don't want you to just shop, we want you to spend a creative day with us.

You will paint your own holiday ornaments, learn to decorate with ribbons, find a perfect stone or crystal for your mood level. You will learn to wrap holiday gifts with minimal environmental impact. You will get a chance to read your poetry and have it published, listen to authentic fiddle music and limber jack, observe live painting and wood carving demonstrations.

You will find a full program of events here.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Winners of the Long Island Limericks Competition are announced

LIU CWPost logo
Think Long Island First logo

WINNERS OF LONG ISLAND LIMERICK COMPETITION ARE ANNOUNCED

Poetry Center of LIU Post and Think Long Island First are pleased to announce winners of the Long Island Limerick Competition 2012.

Limericks had to include a name of Long Island town, village, or site and many entries played the local references - (in)famous person, geography, or local patois - very effectively.

Limericks were judged for their creativity, metrics, and language by three distinguished Long Island poets and teachers: Joan Digby of LIU Post, Barbara Novack of Molloy College, and Diane Simone Lutz of Queensborough Community College.

The winners are:

FIRST PRIZE — $25 gift certificate to Think Long Island First
K. Naomi Hann of Amityville


There once was an Amity-villain
Who went on a rampage of killin'
Great fame came and went
Now the ghosts are all spent
And the villain's in prison still chillin'

SECOND PRIZE — $15 gift certificate to Think Long Island First
Marilyn Goldsmith of Syosset


A Park Ranger from Sagamore Hill
Said my job never ceases to thrill
Except when the ghost
Of the resident host
Cries "Charge!" then I feel a cold chill

THIRD PRIZE — $10 gift certificate to Think Long Island First
Eileen Hession of Long Beach


Oceanside’s name, I must say,
Is geographically in disarray,
You know that it oughta
Be next to some water
But the ocean’s 5 miles away.

HONORABLE MENTION
Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)


Said a clam to a mussel, “I say!
Do you not want to marry one day?
Let us fetch you a bride
On the very next tide!”—
which took them to Oyster Bay.

HONORABLE MENTION
Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)


“Mosquito” as most would say
Is “Skeeter” in Oyster Bay,
and the name of a boat
on which we would float,
summer day after day after day.

Congratulations to Winners!

Award ceremony takes place on Saturday, November 24th, at 4 pm, at Think Long Island First in Oyster Bay.

Many thanks to All Authors who submitted limericks to the competition. We hope they had as much fun writing them as we had reading them. The limericks below are listed in the order of submission.

When we moved, I was put to the test
And, truly, this is not said in jest
'Cause for forty-two years
Amid laughter and tears
Mount Sinai is the place I love best

Sylvia Felsher of Mount Sinai

#####

You're moving to Israel, our Bklyn. neighbors
                 exclaimed
No, Mount Sinai, Long Island, we had to explain
Though we felt some distress
We feel truly blessed
This is OUR holy land, so very aptly named

Debbie Johnson of Mount Sinai

#####

Thinking Lincoln

There once was a fellow named Abe
And lots of reading he did crave;
He won all the debates,
Became one of the greats
By freeing Massapequan slaves

Dylan Baldino of Elmont

#####

A rich girl I knew from Glen Cove
Went shopping one day for a stove
When shown one in green
She made quite a scene
Til they brought her a stove colored mauve

Marilyn Goldsmith of Syosset

#####

An Albertson man and his wife
Had a marriage filled daily with strife
She poisoned his luncheon
He attacked with a truncheon
Now they're both at San Quentin for life

Marilyn Goldsmith of Syosset

#####

There was an old woman from Bayville
By whose singing her neighbors were made ill
It was truly pathetic
Not at all operatic
Sounding less like a song than a sawmill

Marilyn Goldsmith of Syosset

#####

There once was a man from Syosset
Whom women were eager to cosset
But the din of their squawk
Could be heard in Montauk
Now he hides out in far off Nesconset

Marilyn Goldsmith of Syosset

#####

There was a young lady from Merrick
Who had in her garden a derrick
When oil proved elusive
And neighbors abusive
She ran off instead with a cleric

Marilyn Goldsmith of Syosset

#####

A Locust Valley potter had a very fine day
Throwing, trimming, and firing her clay
She drove off with a burst
to Think Long Island First
Bearing pots for Ewa and Jolanta to display

Sue Adler of Locust Valley

#####

It is great to live in Farmingdale
Where we bought a home that was on sale
Thought it was real cool
Got a swimming pool
It’s like living in a fairytale

Paula Camacho of Farmingdale

#####

A lonely young man in Ronkonkoma
Dreamt of true love while in a coma.
But when he awoke
He wished he had croaked:
He still longed for love in Ronkonkoma.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

There lived a poor poet in Patchogue
Who composed while he sat in a bog:
His poems were racy,
But sales did prove dicey
For that doubly poor poet in Patchogue.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

There once was a poet lived in Freeport
Who wrote about sailors and mermaids—that sort—
Till he angered a captain
With a satiric quatrain
And had to find haven in a new port.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A young woman from Bellport name of Vetch
Had a husband who was surely a wretch,
So she served him an aspic
And laced it with arsenic,
Thus leaving Vetch free for a stretch.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A shopper from Valley Stream
Awoke one night with a scream
Thought Bloomingdales closed
Knew the problems that posed
But, thank God it was only a dream.

Terry Marder Kamin of Long Beach

#####

A lad from New Hyde Park
Was longing to make his mark
Tried writing a book
Critics did take a look
And said, "It's best read in the dark."

Terry Marder Kamin of Long Beach

#####

A "prof" from CW Post
At a dinner, was to give a toast
When nothing came out
Not a whisper or shout
It was thought he was a poor host

Terry Marder Kamin of Long Beach

#####

A Lattingtown farmer named Eddie
had 400 chickens at the ready,
They danced down Peacock Lane
high on beer and champagne,
dropping golden eggs like confetti

Joan Harrison from Glen Cove

#####

A major league prospect in Setauket
Could run fast, throw the ball hard, and sock it
Till he fell for a groupie
And his playing went loopy
And he wound up a stock boy in a market.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

The lady with the flaming red hair
is a resident of Franklin Square
with makeup galore
you cannot ignore
that women laugh and men stop and stare.

Maria Manobianco of Farmingdale

#####

There was a gent from Glen Cove
Most careful about how he drove
counted to ten at Stop Signs
so he never got fines
As down Main Street he wove

Terry Marder Kamin of Long Beach

#####

A cyclist from Franklin Square
Said, "Catch me, if you dare."
Friends sped down the pike
Each one on their bike
And all said the race was fair

Terry Marder Kamin of Long Beach

#####

A lady there lived in Bellmore
Decided to open a store
brought in all kinds of creatures
with very rare features
Quite an entrepreneur.

Terry Marder Kamin of Long Beach

#####

A daring young poet in Farmingville
Flattered the gals in sonnets, lays, and vill
anelles, until they grew wise
To his philandering ways
And showed him the road out of Farmingville.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

The surfers in Long Beach are fit
Though I don’t understand it a bit,
The sea’s like a lake
So with no waves to take
It seems all they do is just sit.

Eileen Hession of Long Beach

#####

In Nassau it’s not good to mention
The size of your neighbor’s fat pension,
Dad said, “Be a cop!
Join a strong union shop!”
But I just wasn’t paying attention.

Eileen Hession of Long Beach

#####

A lovely young maiden of Speonk
Fell in love with a poet, a hunk:
They flirted and fumbled
And courted and bundled,
But she never laid hands on his junk.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A lively old widow of Wainscot
Hired a worker to trim her woodlot:
She plied him with cider
Till he lay down beside her
And did what he promised they would not.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A wealthy old man in Port Washington
Grew up wearing Father’s old hand-me-downs;
Then he won the state Lotto
And rose up from the grotto,
That lucky rich man in Port Washington.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A man drove a Hummer into Yaphank
And parked it in front of the loan bank;
He made such a withdrawal
That he did garner the awe
Of all patrons in that bank in Yaphank.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

Bald Hill: Why I Drink

In my home town of Farmingville,
resides Long Island's highest hill.
Its name is quite a mystery.
There soar: elm, oak, and hickory.
Its name: Bald Hill!  Barkeep!  Refill!

Herb Wahlsteen of Farmingville

#####

There once was a gal from Glen Cove
She loved the water .. by Jove
So she walked to the beach
The day sweet as a peach
And painted pictures unique as the fauves.

Time flew by faster than crows
How long she was there? ... Who knows!
It was time to pack up
Gathering paints and a cup
A beautiful day came to a close.

Alice Rhodes Farber of Huntington

#####

To uncle Charlie's in Belle Harbor we'd go
With suitcases and food in tow
Summers there we would spend
With family and friends
While Charlie traveled the world, you know

Before he went on his way
We kids drove him crazy you might say
Mixing sugar into salt pails
Sliding down banister rails
For the teasing and noise we would pay

Alice Rhodes Farber of Huntington

#####

My house in Huntington may be small
But the wooded landscape is my all
Nature's bountiful, peaceful calm
Is a healing, soothing balm
Be it summer, spring, winter or fall

Alice Rhodes Farber of Huntington

#####

Ann wrote letters to Jim many a time
And thought they'd be for the rest of her life.
But he left Oyster Bay
And preceded to L.A.,
So instead she became the mailman's wife.

Cathy Liu of Manhasset

#####

There was an old man from Baldwin
Who always won each hand of gin.
Friends never accused him
Of cheating to abuse 'em
For he'd never commit such a sin.

Ellen Pickus of Baldwin

#####

There was a young klutz from Baldwin
Whose wife was as neat as a pin.
When he made a mess,
He had to confess,
Then sweep it all into the bin.

Ellen Pickus of Baldwin

#####

There was a young boy from Baldwin
Whose Dad taught him to ride a Schwinn.
He loved that old bike
From his Uncle Mike.
He learned to be grateful to kin.

Ellen Pickus of Baldwin

#####

There was a poor gal in Baldwin
Whose triplets made quite a din.
She fed one, then the other
But still had to feed brother.
A mother quite simply can't win.

Ellen Pickus of Baldwin

#####

There was a young girl from Baldwin
Who was so remarkably thin
That when cold winds came
She bundled her frame
From her ankles right up to her chin.

Ellen Pickus of Baldwin

#####

A girl named Ann in Garden City
Gossiped secrets, big or tiny.
But the people in public
All began to feel sick
Since she was airing out her dirty laundry.

Cathy Liu of Manhasset

#####

A woodcock from Matinecock
Was seeking females 'round the clock
But springtime was finished
The supply was diminished
In Autumn a bird's not a jock

Diane Meltzer of Oyster Bay

#####

While waiting for Hurricane Sandy
I decided to have a small brandy
Our trees might come down
And our gardens all drown
But O.B.'s still historic and dandy

Diane Meltzer of Oyster Bay

#####

Riding the train from Penn Station
I start to feel such great elation
Soon I'll see Oyster Bay
Where ol' T.R. did play
When he served as the head of the nation

Diane Meltzer of Oyster Bay

#####

There was a young cleric lived in Mastic
Who suffered from a chronic facial tic,
So he prayed hard for relief –
“God spare me from this sore grief” –
Till a rictus took the place of that tic.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

Jim was having his ninth birthday,
So everyone gathered in Oyster Bay.
They had a good time,
But he gulped too much wine,
Soon enough having one over eight.

Cathy Liu of Manhasset

#####

She made the trees weak and flimsy,
Marching from Nassau to Suffolk County.
Buildings  crumbled down,
The electricity went out,
because of her - Hurricane Sandy.

Cathy Liu of Manhasset

#####

Long Island has a myriad of different landmarks,
Ranging from Jones Beach to Bethpage State Park.
There's too many to list
In this small limerick,
So one should go visit them all for a lark.

Cathy Liu of Manhasset

#####

A boatman from Oyster Bay
had plenty and nothing to say.
So he built a boat
And set it afloat
And with it he sailed away.

Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)

#####

In Speonk one day a merchant
sold me potions exceedingly fragrant,
to camp at Napeague
where mosquitoes feed,
except on those with repellant.

Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)

#####

A one-legged seagull of Hempstead
for meals had been sorely tested,
and moved inland
to escape wind and sand—
a pegleg in dumpsters instead.

Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)

#####

There once was a momma named Meg
who bore thirteen kids in Cove Neck.
She slipped on the dock
which caused quite a shock
to the twins wrapped around her leg.

Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)

#####

There once was a wag of Quoque,
whose tongue was the scourge of her blog—
nor was she discrete
with Facebook and tweet—
a virtual pettifog.

Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)

#####

I once had a cousin in Bayville,
who could be annoyingly playful.
She’d chase my poor brother
one yard to another,
until my brother went naval.

Pat Butler of Tyrone, GA (formerly of Oyster Bay)

#####

A cagey old accountant in Woodmere
Would, for a price, cook your books without fear;
But the IRS caught him
And on trial they put him,
Whence the judge sent him to jail for a year.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A professor of Drama at Oakdale
Gave a part to a dazzling young female:
But her décolletage
Took his mind off the stage
And they rode him from Oakdale on a rail.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A thin farmer in Center Moriches
Eschewed a belt to hold up his britches
But when they fell down
He put on a frown
And lambasted those sons of a britches

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A dashing young man lived in Wantagh,
Who copied Clyde Barrow, the outlaw,
So he dressed up real swank
And tried robbing a bank
But garnered no cash, just a guffaw.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

There once was a Superstorm Sandy
That ravaged our shoreline so dandy,
Such when snow followed suit
Even those resolute
Were heard saying so Long Islandy.

Clinton Weaver of Stony Brook

#####

A Priscilla who lived in Sag Harbor
Grew clematis to climb up her arbor,
But its redolent odor
Made her asthmatic suitor
Sail off in a ship bound for Labrador.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

An old hobo who lived in Nesconset
Was there housed in an old Army Quonset,
Which he papered with pin-ups
And he daily did push-ups,
That naughty, fit hobo in Nesconset.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A grizzled old fisherman in Bayville
Tried cooking his catch on an open grill,
But the haddock turned black
And caused a reflux attack
So he tossed his seared catch in the landfill.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A hustler named Eric in Babylon
Made a bet he could sink a hole-in-one:
When his signature ball
Landed close to the hole,
Radio magnets completed the con.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A misogynist in Amagansett
Excluded himself from the fairer set
Till a gorgeous young temptress
Slipped out of her summer dress
And danced on his lawn until the sun set.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A wily old celibate of Speonk
Led a life benevolent as a monk.
When a lusty young neighbor
Suggested lewd behavior,
He moved to a rectory in Armonk.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

The artist Jackson Pollock in The Springs
Garnered the prizes and fame that art brings,
But his demons still haunted,
Making life seem unwanted,
So he crashed his car and put on his wings.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

A lyric tenor from Bohemia
Drank himself into septicemia
He lost his lead at the Met
And was banished from the set
And heard his rival sing his aria.

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

An Islander fan based in Uniondale,
Let out a shout and then started to wail:
“Don’t trade the Colisseum
“In for Barclays of Brooklyn
“And leave all us fans the card ‘Go to Jail.’”

George Held of Sag Harbor

#####

I come from the hamlet of Glen Head.
A place that we used to call Dead Head.
Now theres traffic and stores,
so I close all my doors
and sleep with a pillow on my head.

Barbara Karyo of Glen Head

#####

Visiting the hamlet of Oyster Bay
You can shop, dine or play
A walk in the park
Just before dark
Will make it a perfect day!

Barbara Pollock of Oyster Bay


Sandy Poems, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Storm Sandy, damaging and disruptive as it was, inspired poets to write about their experiences during or after the storm. We have already published poem 'Sandy' by Barbara Novack and 'The Wake Of The Flood' by Peter V. Dugan. We have more poems to bring to you:

In Sandy's Wake

Patti Tana

Strong winds thicken the air
with the fury of leaves ––
skeletal branches become spears

we ride out the storm together in the dark
the dog between us quaking

morning reveals a hundred-foot tulip tree
fallen across the Japanese garden
sparing the red bridge and our home

you take the guitar in your arms
& make the wood sing "Amazing Grace."

'In Sandy's Wake' by Patti Tana of Locust Valley.
Published with author's permission.

#####

Community
Karen Jakubowski

Flicker of candlelight
my only heat, but
not my only warmth.

Why does it take
natural disaster to bring love?

Long Island is somber.
We have been warned by Sandy.
Humbled by a hurricane.

Men in yellow trucks
swarm like bees.
Flitter to each yard,
each devastation.
They come with gloved bulk, and
We watch our lives being carted away.

I pass military vehicles
in my neighborhood.
It has become a community.

We are stoic and proud.
Stand in streets sharing losses.
Few tears are shed.
We are lost souls
trying to salvage what is left
our homes, our memories, our lives.

It is so much more
Than replacing a favorite
sweater or waterlogged book,
more than a landscape destroyed.
We are base.
Our basic needs
now the root of thought.
No heat, no power,
for some no shelter or food

We huddle together.
We pray.
We wait.
Aid please come
              soon.

'Community' by Karen Jakubowski of Massapequa.
Published with author's permission.

#####

Untitled
Marc Rosen

A woman comes into the FEMA site
Speaks with the staffers,
Then comes into the room I'm in, to the left

A screening room, with comfy seats, the local news on TV,
And most importantly, a giant pile of clothes,
All over the stage up at the front!

We exchange words, and she asks:
“What's all this clothing for?”

A Red Cross volunteer asks if she needs anything
In these times, with a nor'easter approaching,
And the woman herself underdressed for the temperatures,
Warm clothing for her and her daughter is clearly called for

The young mother hesitates, stubborn pride telling her to balk.
She's fine!  Save the clothing for someone who really needs it!
Her protests fall on the deaf ears of her new-found personal shoppers

Red Cross and FEMA ask about what she'd like,
Tell her how great she'll look in this coat,
Help her fill a giant storage bag
With the yield of her free shopping spree

Tears of joy stream down her eyes
After enduring silence and indifference from agencies, her daughter's school, doctors,
She finally laughs;  She finally smiles

Clothes damaged in the rains, replaced with new
Needs neglected for lack of shelter and warmth, met
For this family, it won't be as cold a winter as it seemed

'Untitled' by Marc Rosen of Glen Cove.
Published with author's permission.

Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - The Wake Of The Flood, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Sunday, November 18, 2012

The Wake Of The Flood, Long Island Poem for Sunday


The Wake Of The Flood
Peter V.  Dugan

Boats from marinas miles away
washed across highways, carried
down Reynolds Channel, swept up
Mill River and Swift Creek
beached on fairways and bunkers
of Bay Park Golf Course.

Further up river at East Rockaway High School,
the newly renovated auditorium
lies in ruins, all seats submerged
except those in the balcony.
The gymnasium floor, its
wood warped, resembles ocean waves,
complete with fish and crabs.

Cars and trucks are immobile,
askew in parking lots and on lawns.
Sink holes erode streets;
branches and uprooted trees block roads,
crush cars and lean on homes.
Television, telephone, internet cable
and power lines torn down,
communication and information cut off
or extremely limited.

Up river and up the road
a woman finds her undamaged hot tub,
still filled with water, standing alone
in the center of Lister Ball Field.

At night total darkness envelopes
the neighborhood, save for the flash lights
and lanterns inside occupied houses.
The smell of low tide, sewerage
and burnt gas and oil permeates the air.
The sound of autumn crickets drowned out
by the drone of generators.

The next day, piles of carpet, furniture,
and other remnants and wreckage
form mounds in driveways and on front lawns.
Someone plants the American Flag atop one.
Curbside I find a child's index card
from school, labeled #10 and it reads:

"Fearing death for himself and the rest of the men,
they decide to build boats and float them down
the Mississippi in hope of finding a Spanish settlement."


The Wake Of The Flood by Peter V.  Dugan.
Published with author's permission.

Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - Sandy ... we stare dully at destruction, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Sandy ... we stare dully at destruction, Long Island Poem for Sunday

We want to thank Barbara Novack, poet and Writer-in-Residence at Molloy College in Rockville Center, for sending us this poem.

Sandy
Barbara Novack

Benign old trees in front of houses
shading the way along the street
loom darkly in the storm
wind-whipped and creaking
branches lashing, leaves flying
crack crash BOOM!
The neighbor's tree across our driveway
limb branch leaves pressing upon our car
Then crack crash BOOM!
Our tree uprooted
to pound in upon our house
top to bottom
and in one gasping death heave
flail five feet of limb through our attic window.

In the aftermath, that lighted day,
we stare dully at destruction
both cracked trees, their
burgeoning springs and summers
an ironic lie:
City tree trimmers each year
rising in their buckets
to whittle away dried twigs
while no one thought to tap the trunks
and listen for the echo.

'Sandy' by Barbara Novack.
Published with author's permission.


Previous Long Island Poem for Sunday - Westhampton Cemetery founded 1795, Long Island Poem for Sunday

Monday, November 12, 2012

Preserving history is important

Now more than ever it is apparent how important it is to preserve what we know and see. Chunks of our beautiful South Shore disappeared in front of our own eyes a few days ago.

It was equally important and much more technically difficult in the past. We are deeply indebted to photographers and record keepers who immortalized places and scenes of the past.

Arcadia Publishing, South Carolina based company, specializes in historical books of local interests. Books are created by local authors, like Joan Harrison, Amy Driscoll, John Hammond, or Paul Mateyunas, who, having burrowed through various family archives, libraries, documents, and printed materials, bring to us a sliver of the world of old.


Below please find some of the titles we carry in the store.

LOCUST VALLEY
Joan Harrison, Amy Dzija Driscoll
BAYVILLE
Incorporated Village of Bayville
GLEN COVE
Joan Harrison
GLEN COVE REVISITED
Joan Harrison
HICKSVILLE
Richard E. Evers, Anne Evers
SYOSSET
Tom Montalbano
OYSTER BAY
John Hammond
ROSLYN
Ellen Fletcher Russell, Sargent Russell, Roslyn Landmark Society
THE LONG ISLAND RAILROAD 1925-1975
David Keller, Steven Lynch
LONG ISLAND RAIL ROAD STATIONS
David D. Morrison, Valerie Pakaluk
LONG ISLAND AIRCRAFT MANUFACTURERS
Joshua Stoff
BUILDING MOONSHIPS: THE GRUMMAN LUNAR MODULE
Joshua Stoff
LONG ISLAND'S MILITARY HISTORY
Glen Williford, Leo Polaski
NEW YORK STATE NATIONAL GUARD
Anthony Gero, Roger Sturcke
LONG ISLAND'S GOLD COAST
Paul J. Mateyunas
OHEKA CASTLE
Joan Cergol, Ellen Schaffer

We are glad to report, all books are printed domestically on 100% Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) certified paper.