World Conditions and Action Items

Home About Music Poetry

VERSES FROM KINGFISHER WAy

Ah, but when poetry marries with melody
and modulation, speech becomes beauty.

To:
All Creatures
Lifeless, Living And Dead

If Only to Write

  1. Anxiety of Waiting
  2. If Only to Write
  3. Reaching Back for Nothing

foolish verses

  1. everything is blown to hell
  2. foolish verses
  3. going back-a perspective
  4. philoneus revisited
  5. pointless in new england

Victory Or Defeat

  1. And Music
  2. cup of creativity
    In March of 2000, I discovered that there were places on the web at which I could post my poetry, poetry I'd been writing for over 30 years. I know that I discovered two places. One was The Arcanum Café and the name of the other has slipped my mind. I know that I posted to both boards farily equally. However, the board whose name I've forgotten crashed and took long enough to become reestablished that I became an integral part of the Arcanum Café.

    In fact, I became a moderator and even an administrator for the Arcanum Café.

    I found it a bit much for me after a while and I took a hiatus from my responsibilities at AC.

    I'm back at AC now, although not anywhere near the capacity in which I previously found myself.

    AC is a great place and I'd recommend it for anyone who's seriously considering mature discussion about literature.

    It also offers an outlet for music and what's called "Open Discussion". As you may be able to guess, "Open Discussion" is the most active forum. It allows for political debate as well as discussions on all manner of things.

    I just passed my sixth year as a member of AC.

    The poem, "the cup of creativity", describes the overwhelming feeling I got when I first joined AC and even the other board whose name, as I mentioned, I've forgotten.

  3. Loneliness
  4. Near Death and Back
    When one is asked where one plans to spend one's vacation, the answer is seldom "Cleveland". Yet, in 2000, I believe I'm right with that year, my Tina and I planned a vacation that revolved around that city.

    Yes, we spent most of our vacation time in 2000 in Cleveland, Ohio because, at that time, Cleveland was home to the highest roller coaster in the world. It's been superceeded since then.

    In truth, the roller coaster, The Millennium Force at Cedar Point Amusement Part, was in Sandusky, Ohio. The Millennium Force rose to 300 feet and then fell 310 feet at an eighty degree angle while traveling at 92 miles per hour. What a rush!

    In 2000, Tina and I were on a mission. We traveled to Cleveland and to Pittsburgh, PA, to ride 5 out of the top 10 roller coasters in the word.

    While in Pittsburgh, we visited with Leyna, my youngest daughter.

    On the way, we stopped at The Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY and, while in Cleveland, we visited the Pro Football Hall of Fame, The Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame and Jacobs Field where we saw the Indians play baseball.

    However, the thrill of The Millennium Force was the unsurpassable experience of that trip.

    It is true that one doesn't know what one has until one loses it. I can no longer indulge in what became one of my most exhilarating hobbies. My spine has become inoperably infirmed. To quote the diagnosis, “When every single disc is damaged, it is not possible to fix the problem surgically. One simply cannot replace the entire spine”. It seems that the days are numbered, one way or another, for which I’ll retain the ability to walk.

    However, I can be grateful that I enjoyed the pleasures of the giants of the amusement parks when it was possible. “Near Death and Back” is both a narrative of my exciting experience and a tribute to the monstrous machines which allowed me those thrills as well as the engineers who designed them.

  5. Phoenix of the Mersey
  6. Victory or Defeat
    This poem was isnpired by a phrase that I'm still hoping that I coined. The phrase is "I'd rather run toward victory than away from defeat." Think about it. There is a difference - - a definite difference.

  7. Warmth
  8. When Speech Becomes Beauty
The Rendezvous
“The Rendezvous” may be one of the shortest chapters in any of my books of poetry. It contains eight sonnets and numbers precede the names of each sonnet. For example, the first sonnet is entitled “Sonnet #1-The Rendezvous”, The second is “Sonnet #2-The Beginning” and the titles proceed in that fashion until the eighth and final sonnet in this chapter, “Sonnet #8-Farewell”.

There is an embedded theme that chronologically flows with the sonnets. Some may see this connected group of sonnets as a romance narrative. It looks that way and is intended to look that way. That interpretation would not be wrong. A poem may be interpreted differently by different readers. I think that’s one of the characteristics that differentiates poetry from other forms of communication. It can be open to interpretation. Consequently, it would be quite appropriate to interpret these sonnets as a dynamic love story.

Although it appears to be about romance, my intention in writing these sonnets was to try as hard as possible to perfect the metaphor. I decided to write about a subject that has meant a great deal to me for most of my life and to use the metaphor as a tool for telling the story.

It might be interesting to try to guess to what this chronology really refers.

As you can tell if you read my blog or this site, I’ve been somewhat remiss lately in speaking up through this medium. Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Those actions have recently kept me away from my writing.

I now return with the first sonnet of the chapter I entitle “The Rendezvous”. I refer to the lack of time and effort I’ve put into both this site and my blog because I can’t predict when the eighth sonnet will be posted.

I can say, however, that the real meaning of this series of poems will be revealed at the time I post the eighth sonnet. You may be surprised by what drove me to write these eight pieces.

A clue to what these poems truly represent could possibly be that the chapter begins and ends with Petrarchan sonnets which engulf six Shakespearean sonnets. Using that as a clue would definitely be a stretch however.

I hope that some may have fun trying to figure out this cryptic story line. I for sure hope that you enjoy the reading.

  1. The Rendezvous
  2. The Beginning
  3. The Dance
  4. Chapel Bells
  5. The Irony of Celebration
  6. The Passion
  7. Revisit
  8. Farewell
Well, that’s it folks, the chapter entitled “The Rendezvous” has come to an end.

At the time I posted the first sonnet, “The Rendezvous”, I said that I would reveal the true meaning of these eight sonnets at the time that I posted this, the eighth and final sonnet.

Since I can’t really communicate with anyone about this series of sonnets due to the drawbacks of having a comment section, I have no way of knowing if anyone has actually been “playing along”, so to speak, with this mystery.

Consequently, for now I’ll just give a hint or two or three or more before revealing the true meaning of these sonnets.

One hint is that this rendezvous has been going on for a very long time and I’m definitely not the first “caller” to become involved in this sort of bittersweet story.

It's about time, but here's a second hint. This serial broke many hearts throughout the 20th century. Most of those hearts belonged to American men.

I’ve been dragging my feet in divulging the real meaning of what seems like eight romantic love sonnets. This is one reason why I’m going to come right out and tell anyone who reads these what they are really about.

In the US, we have a professional baseball league called the Major Leagues. The Major Leagues are the highest goal which any baseball player can obtain. You’re right. One advances to the Major Leagues after spending time in the Minor Leagues. It makes sense, doesn’t it?

I don’t say that this is the highest goal to which any American baseball player can advance because the Major Leagues has been accepting Hispanic baseball players from Mexico and South and Central America for many years.

If fact, one of the greatest Major League baseball players of all time was a player who was born in Puerto Rico named Roberto Clemente. Clemente was killed in a plane crash in 1972 as his brilliant career was winding down.

The Major Leagues has recently begun accepting players from other parts of the word with an emphasis on Asia. A Japanese player who is referred to simply as Ichiro may very well be inducted into the Major League Hall of Fame. His full name is said to be Ichiro Suzuki, but, as the syntax in Asian names differs from the syntax in names in the western world, it may be difficult to decipher his surname from his first name.

Before all of this Major League globalization began, I became an avid Major League baseball fan and wasn’t too bad of a player when I was a kid. In fact, with some encouragement from those who should have offered it, I may have been able to maintain my baseball talents and, at least seen how far they would have taken me.

The autobiographical portion of my web site, About Michael is long, somewhat narcissistic and potentially very boring. However, there are three essays which are targeted in the About Michael section. The first may give some insight into why and how it was that I didn’t pursue baseball very far. The essay is called “A Father’s Gift”.

I never stopped being an avid fan, however, and, as I lived in Connecticut in the Northeastern United States, my favorite team was (and still is) The Boston Red Sox.

The Major League championship is called The World Series. I’ve heard people from other countries say that this is arrogant as this is merely a championship between two American baseball teams. However, as mentioned above, the title “The World Series” is becoming more appropriate.

Up until recently, and some would argue even now, a man named George Herman Ruth from Baltimore, Maryland was known as the greatest baseball player to ever play in the Major Leagues. Ruth was nicknamed “Babe” and I’m not sure why.

Babe Ruth played for the Boston Red Sox from 1912 until 1918. He was sold to the Red Sox’s arch rivals, The New York Yankees in 1919 so that the owner of the Red Sox could finance a Broadway play. The play was a flop, but Ruth went on to be that great Major Leaguer.

From 1912 until 1918. the Red Sox won four World Series. After trading Ruth, however, they went 86 years without winning a World Series. It was said that Ruth placed a curse on the Red Sox.

It was bad enough that the Red Sox didn’t win a world series for so many years, but, during those years, they came very, very close on many occasions, only to lose on the very last play of the deciding game or something of that nature.

The Red Sox fans never gave up and ultimately suffered through all of those years. The suffering was never greater than when the Red Sox “had it in the bag” but lost it through some fluke and/or just plain bad play.

In March, players from the Major Leagues leave their homes and travel to warm climates such as Florida or Arizona to get ready for the upcoming season. They call it Spring Training. It would be far too cold in March for Spring Training to take place in areas such as Boston, New York, Detroit, etc.

In the beginning of April, the teams travel north to begin the regular season. It’s still somewhat cold in some places and there’s even been snow fall at the beginning of the Major League baseball season.

During May, June, July, August and September, hope springs yearly for Red Sox fans. The team normally spends most of those months in close fights for a spot in what’s called the post season playoffs which lead to the World Series.

With the Red Sox still in “the fight” in June, their fans begin to hope that this will be “the year”.

Thus the lines in “Sonnet #4-Chapel Bells,”, “Though hope for me has ever been unwise/there’s something more I feel in this year’s fires” were written.

There is much unsettling turbulence in ”Sonnet #7-Revisit”, which takes place in September. This is where Red Sox fans, although hopeful, are always waiting for the “other shoe to drop”. They watch their team continue to win, but, as the games become more and more meaningful, they can’t help asking themselves, “Could this be the place where we once had been?”

In “Sonnet #8-Farewell”, the fan is angry, maybe at the team or maybe just in general because the hope, getting within a hair of “winning it all”, is always dashed right at the last minute. “This was a ruse, unkind, as in the past/a masochistic tale we’re forced to tell,” thinks the fan. Yet hope springs again in March of the following year.

They say that insanity is when someone does the same thing over and over again and expects a different result.

In 2004, it was discovered the fans of The Boston Red Sox were not insane after all as the Red Sox spent the season fighting for a place in the playoffs. They got into the playoffs and, in an order which was completely reversed from how it had always happened in the past, they were down to their last out in what seemed like the last game that they would play in 2004.

However, instead of making that last out, they came back and won that game.

The Yankees were ahead of the Red Sox in a best out of seven series, 3 games to 0. The Red Sox, indeed, made a comeback in winning the fourth game, but fate was still against them. No team had ever been behind 3 games to 0 in a best out of seven series in the history of the Major Leagues and come back to win 4 games in a row. In 2004, the Red Sox broke that record and won the next 4 games handily against The Yankees.

They made their way into the 2004 World Series. The World Series would be one of the least memorable in the history of Major League Baseball as the Red Sox won the best of seven series from the St. Louis Cardinals, 4 games to none.

Babe Ruth’s 86 year curse, called “the curse of The Bambino”, was finally broken. It was a year of almost surreal joy for Red Sox fans. Surreal or not, Red Sox fans were happy for the unbelievable accomplishment of their favorite team and ended October of 2004 looking forward to March of 2005.

Eight sonnets which I entitled “The Rendezvous” are sonnets which express my love for the Boston Red Sox. I dare say that I’m not the only person who feels this way.

Unfortunately, the second reason that I choose now to tell the entire story behind “The Rendezvous” isn’t filled with happiness at all.

Three days ago, the wife of one of my good friends back in Connecticut died while at work. Bob had just retired and was waiting for Pat to retire very soon. Pat was a janitor and she seemed in wonderful spirits on that fateful day.

Pat and Bob were very close and I know that he is suffering as he grieves for his beautiful wife. She was only 59.

A friend called us a day after she died and informed us of the bad news. It was 5:30 AM here in California, but I couldn’t go back to sleep.

I got out of bed and my muse told me that a poem entitled “His Light” was ready for me to write. Bob, this is for you and for the memory of Pat. We are so, so sorry.

The Abyss Of Depression-Deep Into The Night

  1. Chairs
  2. Dark Man
  3. Deep Into The Night
  4. Doors
  5. God
  6. I Am Alone
    I wrote an essay called “Epitome of Class Struggle” which can be found on the Essays page of this site.

    When I first launched the site, there was a comments section after each essay, poem or song.

    On the site’s Home Page, I explained why I felt it necessary to remove the comments section.

    In that explanation, I spoke of “people who responded with non responses” to my work. I went on to explain that these people were “insulting beyond the pale or were just orbiting another planet.”

    One such response I received was in regard to my essay “Epitome of Class Struggle”. The essay deals with the apparent suicide of a wonderful man with whom I once worked.

    The essay spoke of how the Fortune 500 global corporation for whom he, and I, worked threw both of us away as though we were some soiled rags. The work didn’t subside. The company merely doubled the work of those whom the company kept, mostly people who were on the lower part of the pay scale.

    Meanwhile, the recompense of the CEO of this corporation is $15,659,239.00.

    My friend was younger than I and had a son he call “Junior”. He constantly spoke about Junior and how proud he was of Junior.

    When I was delayered (Orwell was a genius), I was quite devastated. I’m not ashamed to admit that I received help for what seemed like an endless plunge down Carroll’s rabbit-hole. I obviously have not committed suicide, although “I Am Alone” expresses my very real temptation to do just that.

    Of course, I had no son to whom I would look like a failure or at least to whom I might think I would look like a failure.

    There was no more pragmatic reason for my friend or I to lose our jobs than there is for the CEO of the company to be lavished with almost $16 million.

    However, the response to which I refer, one that was not worth keeping any longer than it took me to read it, blamed not the corporate greed which placed my friend and I in the unemployment line and stole a tremendous chunk of self respect from us, but blamed my friend for committing suicide!

    The heartless bastard sided with the corporation as if it was some sort of heroic entity and vilified my friend as if, after going through the hell of feeling that he let his son and his family down by losing his livelihood, he wanted to hurt them more by killing himself.

    When I read that venomous trash, I could only think that this is one of those “suicide is selfish” people whose life has never been so uncertain and whose will has never been so broken. I could only think that the person somehow thinks that decent paying jobs are around every corner, that if one is willing to work for a living, one can receive employment that supports one’s family, that helps put one’s children through college, that enables one to own a home or a car.

    The only possible reasons for the kind of response that this contemptible and vexatious person offered are that this person is, indeed, the recipient of the kind of salary which the CEO referred to above receives and can’t understand why the people this person puts out of work are devastated or this person is not aware that Americans are no longer afforded employment which offers a living wage. This person must not be aware that CEOs can now be paid $16 million because they outsource the work once done by American workers to countries which pay workers less than $1 a day.

    I poetically examine today’s corporate greed in the next chapter of this book which is entitled The Sins of the Corporacracy.

    A person such as the person who blindly demonized a victim needs to experience the kind of pain that would drive one to take one’s own life. I fear this is the worth which far too many human beings place on their fellow human beings in 2006. The only reality which such people know is what is euphemistically called “reality TV”.

    Once again, I Am Alone deals with my own very real, far too real, temptations to escape the judgments of the judgmental.

  7. Illusion
  8. Inquiry Sonnet
  9. I’ve Lost Myself Again
  10. Let Me (More selfishness, I suppose.)
  11. Morning’s Frozen Horror
  12. Old Dorothy
  13. slavery
  14. The Disease
  15. the way i feel
  16. Voices
  17. when i hate

The Sins of the Corporacracy
In December of 1972, I filled out an application and took a mechanical aptitude test. That was all that was needed to apply as a technician for the Fortune 500 global corporation for which I worked for twenty-five years.

The gentleman who interceded on my behalf in my quest for employment told me not to worry. This particular corporation had never “laid people off” and was sure never to do so in the future. I now know him as breathing, living proof that greed in dynamic. When the opportunity to increase their wealth, even if it means hurting others, presents itself to people whose income is well above that which is needed to live a basically comfortable life in The United States of America, these people take full advantage of it.

A little off the subject of the corporation for whom I worked, but still on the subject of “class warfare” is William McGuire, former CEO of UnitedHealth Group.

In the last year during which he was CEO of UnitedHealth Group, McGuire’s total compensation was $1,776,547,635. That’s one billion, seven hundred and seventy-six million, five hundred and forty-seven thousand, six hundred and thirty-five dollars!

So that he would not become homeless, UnitedHealth Group ensured McGuire a severance package worth 1.1 billion dollars when he retired.

This is indicative of the kind of recompense received by CEOs of large global corporations in today’s “free trade” environment.

While the CEO of the corporation for whom I worked raked in a bit less than McGuire, he still raked in more than I could ever make in my life time working for that corporation. In fact, in order for me to earn what that CEO was paid just in 2005 alone, I would have had to have worked until 2215 AD.

Ultimately, I didn’t have to worry about a medical miracle keeping me alive for the next 209 years. After 25 years of loyal service to the corporation, I was “delayered”. Here’s where I like to parenthetically write “Orwell was a genius”.

I know that Orwell was a genius because in his book “1984”, there were people whose only job it was to create “Newspeak”, a linguistic principle which either dumbed down language to save people from having to think before, during or after they spoke or which euphemized language such that what correct minded people perceive today as objectionable or displeasing would at least sound “nice”.

This is no doubt why CEOs lives are enriched so lavishly. They are expected to come up with euphemisms for actions which hurt others. “Delayered” is one such euphemism.

However, to make the job more challenging, CEOs must continue to change the euphemisms to keep their employees sharp. For example, what was “delayered” in 1997 is now “deselected”. It’s a hard job, but someone’s got to do it.

And what do CEOs do with their riches? With a good portion of their riches, they buy politicians, both Democrats and Republicans. They buy politicians to ensure that as much as possible can be privatized in The United States. There’s always room for gluttony and greed in a totally privatized world.

In essence, they purchase enough politicians to actually purchase the government. Consequently, corporations write laws which are passed by Congress and signed by the Executive branch.

For example, The Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005 was literally written by the credit card industry, not by Congress.

At one point, I thought that I’d coined the word “corporacracy”. I was wrong. It, and many variations of it, has been around for a long time. However, the following is my personal definition:

Corporacracy (co-por-AC-racy)
n. pl. co•por•ac-racies

  1. A word combining “corporation” and “aristocracy”.
  2. Government by CEOs and top executives of global corporations.
  3. Global corporations, considered the primary source of political power.
  4. Wealth rules.
  5. The principles of gross financial inequality and fear of global corporations.
  6. The reason the top 5% of the population control over 40% of the wealth.
  7. A government that, by blatant disregard for humanity and the environment, is causing the American “middle class” to shrink, fading into an almost poverty level existence. It does this by taking advantage of the “middle class’s” apathy and its addiction to fossil fuels.
  8. A government that buys figure head leaders, known as “presidents”. These “leaders” are called Republicans and Democrats. Members of the shrinking “middle class” still embrace a fantasy which leads them to write editorial letters debating the differences between the two “parties”. They are still under the false impression that there are only two “political” parties existing in the US.
  9. The Corporacracy controls colonies in North America, Great Britain, France, Central and South America, Asia, Africa and Australia. Its sole rule of governance is to create money which creates more money.

This brings me to the first poem in The Sins of the Corporacracy chapter and, hopefully, sets the stage for all of the other poems in this chapter.

Dennis is a person with whom I worked for twenty-five years. He was employed as an Information Technician. He worked extremely hard in the late seventies and early eighties to computerize and automate the production process. As there were very few software templates at that time, Dennis used creativity and initiative to automate many of the production processes.

In the late ‘90s, the corporation no longer wanted to give benefits and a decent wage to its own IT workers. So it outsourced that work to contractors who were paid a very small percentage of what Dennis was paid. They gave Dennis the choice of working for the contract group, therefore losing most of his salary and all of his benefits, or leaving the corporation altogether. Dennis chose the latter as he couldn’t exist on the contractors’ wages and that does not mean exist comfortably.

The CEO of the corporation never had to make such a decision.

  1. Dennis
  2. Education
  3. El Niño Pequeño
  4. Lines Are Good
  5. Nature's Fortune
  6. Oh Doctor!
  7. Sisters
  8. Technician Dan
  9. the corporacracy
  10. The Corporacracy - Part Two
  11. To the Six Billiion
  12. Triviality
Triviality is a seasonal poem to which I bring attention every year around “x-mas” time.

If there was to be a poll taken which asked the question, “What, in your opinion, is the most heinous sin of The Corporacracy?”, the sin with which this poem deals should be number one or very close to it. If one claims to be a Christian, it most certainly should be the biggest sin committed by The Corporacracy.

However, all people participate in the gluttonous commercialization of Christmas, even those that are not Christian.

Just as The Corporacracy has made sure that democracy has nothing to do with the government of The United States of America, it has likewise made sure that Christmas has nothing to do with the person that people refer to as Christ.

COPYRIGHT 2005 by Michael Bonanno
LOC Reg. #TXu 988-155

Reproduction of “VERSES
FROM KINGFISHER WAY” or
any part therein without
the express written
permission of Michael
Bonanno is prohibited
unless the reproduction
meets The Copyright Act
“fair use” doctrine,
(title 17, U. S. Code).

Serious, Mature Feedback Encouraged

Home About Music Poetry