A Summer Potpourri from Poet Jerry A. Scuderi and Photographer Nick Clemente

Photograph by Nick Clemente

I think I've been watching too much Jeopardy! this summer, but the term potpourri seems to fit as Jerry's poems and Nick's photographs touch on a number of topics.  The photograph above was taken at Chesapeake Bay, one of Maryland's natural treasures.  The first poem "My Iron Man," was originally intended for Father's Day, but I think it fits well with Nick's picture above and with "Roar of Lions," the next poem.

My Iron Man

 My Iron Man turns bolts of steel ;
supporting us, he will not yield .

 I love his grease stained hands and arms ;
he speaks of work, yet for us he longs .

 My Iron Man has a face of leather ;
Though his back will ache ; our child he'll get her .

 My Iron Man has feet of clay .
He concrete stands on them all day .

 He has massive shoulders and a silver mind .
Kids come to him ; he's gentle and kind .

 My Iron Man has a heart of gold .
He talks to garden birds ; I'm told .

 "Go now , night shift !" , "Hands of Brass" .
We'll kiss at dawn ; this too will pass .

 I see him strain as the years set in .
He works with engines ; our life he wins .

 Home from work ; to his chair he'll rest ;
then fall asleep. He'll get my best .

 My Iron Man turns bolts of steel .
His love for us , he will not yield .

 I love him with my heart and soul ;
I care for him as we grow old .

Jerry A. Scuderi

Photograph by Nick Clemente

The Roar of Lions

 Pop's trailered his pick-up,   a mighty machine ;

to race, come see it,   a beauty yet mean.

Billowing smoke , "Orange Thunder",   stand by if you dare.

A grandson was called ;   oh, he needs to be there.

  See them, brothers and uncles ,   grandads all around;

hear the pulsing ear-piercing .   There's smoke and there's sound.

 Mom calls for a son,   not yet of teen age;

lean, smart, and quiet,    the men quickly guage.

 With uncles around him,   hear encoragement and praise;

his face is the face of their grand-uncle . . .   displayed!

 Tight gripping long hand shake,   between families that cared;

relay trust and approval of a son   freely shared.

 Pop worked. raised a family,   his racer's his joy.

Family men come to see him;   shout out for the boys.

  Males are molded and fashioned   by the things that they see;

labor for family;    it's the place they should be.

 "Little brother , what's in you?   I want you to show".  

"Through the smoke and the thunder,   a family must go ! "

 "Roar at me, brother !  Show a heart that is strong."

"A family will depend on   your will and your arm" !

 Families are spoke of ;   it's good to be here.

The years will soon pass us ;   new grandads appear.

 For families are timeless ;   need attention and care.

Provide direction and guidence;    give your life and your hair .

              

                                                                                                           Jerry A. Scuderi  June 13, 2009

Photograph by Nick Clemente

"Baton Pass" was inspired by Jerry's week at his church's work camp in Cumberland, Maryland.

                      Baton Pass

 Tapes carries through the night

of cloud rolled sky and dipper bright .

This work camp bursts of youthful vigor ;

traverse stone walls,  road, rails, and river .

Buldge wagon train with spring of youth ;

consume candyland's treats and juice .

Inky night lead your caravan ;

of Ethans, J.P.'s , Ryanns , Dan .

 Disperse , chatter high school stars

find your Jupiter and twinkles far .

 Monuments salute, town glows dart

to humble deeds and giving hearts .

 Stand  pure  kids  adultered ;

accept parents pass of love unaltered .

 Carry taps through the night

in a cloud rolled sky and dipper bright .                  Jerry A. Scuderi   6-25-15

Photograph by Nick Clemente

I'll finish with Jerry's poem "Vernal Environs / Emerald Kingdom" where he returns to the Chesapeake Bay.

   Vernal Environs / Emerald Kingdom

 Seduce arrow leaves on a carpet bound;

Chesapeake Bay's glories seen .

Stilled, quiet , serenity found .

Ancient habitat  , fertile , lean .

 Drift water lilies on this mid-day tide .

Dragon faces plunge and seek .

Violet sentries sway and glide .

Found arabesque scented alluring treats .

 Rule our cosmos Osprey high ,

masked sea hawk of talons keen .

Raptor fly ; command the sky ;

a swimming prey is with-in your means .

 Flow ebony brackish river .

Erupt, oh eddy , burst then splash ;

then ease ,  still ,  quiet giver .

Crack crystal !   'cects screeching . Dashed !

 Wee frog skip across the stones ;

ivy , grasses bow and dip .

See the wonders , Glories home .

What Creator's made ;   ingest    and    sip .

                                                                   Jerry A. Scuderi   July 16, 2015

Photograph by Nick Clemente

Let's see if Rockville has a thunderstorm tonight.  The thunderheads I saw this evening were certainly towering.  In the meantime, here is some summer music for you:

I'll start with Tommy Flanagan's "Smooth as the Wind."  This video appears to be on Dr. Billy Taylor's show:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVb8TJb_sV0

The title of "Relaxin' at Camarillo" refers to its composer Charlie Parker's stint at a California psychiatric hospital, but I will include Flanagan's version from 1957 tonight:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piTmGTucbqg

Here is his "Nascimento" with his trio featuring Kenny Burrell:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5zbke2L7QY

I'll conclude with his "Peace":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrXmeQgUT44