Writings And Other Manifestations of My Mind

 
“Maturity is growing out of 
your adolescent ideas about the self,"
his super-ego said.
"You wake up one fine morning, and will understand
that 
hormonal activity and self-ignorance
motivated of your youthful behavior, 
that 
demon fear is the death of your dreams
and demon doubt is the fuel.”

 “Buddy Boy,” his id responded,
"your sun-browned muscles and romantic habit of dreaming
were your experiential curriculum vitae 
when you arrived at Manhattan.
Following hours, weeks, months, and years 
of bending, stretching, jumping
rehearsing and performing onstage,
you succumbed to temptation
and took a walk on the wild side. 
After the urge to see what you wanted to see
your sexual desire was satisfied 
and your mind was heavily laden 
with the monotony of that indulgence,
you quit the Big Apple.
You sojourned in D.C., Moscow, Hartford,
Boston, Japan, San Francisco, Italy, and Lisbon, Portugal;
never becoming stuck in any one way of thinking or being, 
 but dancing to live and living to dance in each place.
The questions you asked about yourself wat the age of twenty-one
are bone-deep convictions today:
Herdism was/is a drag on your spirit,
routine dampered/dampers your Arian fire,
and you/yourself/he were made
not for their laws and their nattering, 
but for exception. 

 His super-ego had the last word:
  “When you were a little boy
you played in the sand,
 now you are a big boy and you think you’re a man.
 What is a man if he is not free
 to regulate the final turn of his destiny?”
Copyright © 2019 Trifoglio 

Your giving voice to female-male alliance
favors this relation with a musicianship
that is as perfect as the crepuscular delight
of Memphis moonglow
 through loblolly pines

Your request for respect in 1967
addresses menfolk's chauvinism
melodicizes the current socio-political agenda
and
coincides philosophically 
with Dr. King’s prophesy of communal love
while furthering the getting-over strategy
those before had pursued from 1619 to 1967—
laying the foundation of our becoming
our going back and getting it

In particular
“Do-Right Woman, Do-Right Man” opened my eyes
to the concept of both relating to the other
in a manner that completes the other
which wisdom-filled lyrics
rectified my resistance to womenfolk's perception 
of a neither-one-above-the-other gender dynamic
and
attuned my adolescent waywardness
to their expectation of coequality

  I thank you for your guidance
your deeper love
and
the singular gift of your almighty fire
©2020 by Trifoglio

Dearest Christopher, I salute you 
 on your arrival at the apex of years

 You are still on the road, fulfilling the promise
 demonstrated in the classes I taught
at Cambridge School 
 still living the basic word I-Thou in distant and diverse places 
 Japan, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Philadelphia, D.C., France
 Italy, Chicago, South Africa, New York City
still choreographing your thoughts and feelings
 into dreamscapes
of 
mood, line, steps, relationship, and philosophy 
  
Tonight when you get together
with friends and colleagues in New York City
to make a toast  
  I will be there in spirit, reveling in the fellowship 
and smiling in remembrance of my first impression of you 
all those many years ago (!!!) 

Maestro, I wish you henceforth sunny tomorrows
filled with precious memories of fruitful years gone by
I hope you continue to greet each morning in a positive mood
weather life’s challenges with your whole being 
and 
continue to make kinetic dreamscapes 
 until the last nanosecond of your last day
 Alla tua! E buon compleanno!
 Copyright©2012 by Trifoglio

   

   

When your morning ride 
on the #22 MUNI bus
has been a disharmony of temper flare-ups 
and you discover upon arrival back home
that you forgot do everything you intended to do
fix yourself a cup of chai with vanilla-flavored soy drink
put a CD of Kathleen Battle’s bel canto singing
in the machine, then sit back and receive
 
As the music enters your innermost self
and the after-effect of the disharmony disintergrates
breathe in deeply, forgive yourself 
for not behaving differently
look into your heart with a positive mind
and
exhale as the purity of Miss Lady’s singing
teases your face into a smile
Copyright © 2005 Trifoglio

After twenty-three years, you and I met in San Francisco
We talked, shared a meal, and attended a dance concert
in Yerba Buena Center
The living in between those years has changed us
You and I are not the persons we were in the Seventies 
and resumption of the friendship that used to be
is not in the cards
For the record, I am neither vindictive, irate, downcast 
nor any other staccato description of my personality
that may cross your mind
Feeling is the reason why
Feeling in my heart
Feeling in my soul
Feeling in my body 
Feeling in my blood
Feeling in my bones
Feel yourself and you will feel me
Hear yourself and you will hear me
See yourself and see me, know yourself and know me
Above all, if you want to talk and work it out
embrace yourself and embrace me

I am he whose health is good
I am he whose mind is curious
I am he whose body is responsive 
and it still vibrates to the agency of sound

I am he whose mother is a female person
I am he whose father is a male person
I am he whose spirit is indomitable
and as adventurous as that of the Beat poets

I am he who was named after his father 
I am he who is his namesake
I am he who began school at age four
and saw himself in the other students

I am he who grew up under Jim Crow 
I am he who cannot forget that insanity
I am he who was ostracized in Georgia
and left there for somewhere better

I am he who was called names
I am he whom they treated unbrotherly 
I am he who stayed true to himself
and kept his eyes on the prize

I am he who unloaded tobacco at the barn
I am he who cropped tobacco with the menfolk
I am he who bent his knees with manly gusto
and picked dewy sand lugs for the thrill of doing

I am he who was put out at age sixteen 
I am he who has been on his own ever since
I am he who rose and fell under the influence of know-it-alls
and acquired the skill of self-sufficiency

I am he who tuned in to his body at an early age
I am he who embraced his soul at an early age
I am he who communed with the people in him at an early age
and wished on the moon for love in perpetuity

I am he who walked a wide and curved road
I am he who dared himself along the way
I am he who made eyes at the reality without 
and was balanced by experience, not dogma

I am he who walked in the valley of grief
I am he who experienced emotional unrest
I am he who attended Dr. King’s funeral
and cried for want of a reason why

I am he who danced to sweet soul music
I am he who put stock in the gifts of its divas and divos
I am he who heard his heart-song in their testimonials
and swallowed the medicine thereof

I am he who was called by Lady Terpsichore
I am he who practices the art of dance
I am he who lived the life he danced about onstage
and was true to “his own image of dignity”

I am he who will dance until his breath stops
I am he who will maintain his soul’s integrity 
I am he who will always love his contrary self 
and keep the faith no matter what

I am he who remembers the past as if it were yesterday
I am he who remembers the rapport between us
I am he who remembers a confession you made in ’73
and cannot forget how solid it made him feel

I am he who knows it is not what you think, but how you think it
I am he who knows it is not what you say, but how you say it
I am he who knows it is not what you do, but how you do it
and not what you dream, but how you dream it

I am he who was struck by what you said in 2000
I am he who does not know the woman for whom you advocated
I am he who spent a few hours with her in New York City
and can say she is a garden-variety liar

I am he who enjoyed tripping the dark fantastic 
I am he who cannot forget what happened that night
I am he who has no regrets  
and forgives you your self-ignorance

Now, Doc, you tell me: Where did the good vibe go?
 
Sitting here remembering
what a fool I was to betray my principles
for a lark, the quick of me rages
your words followed the rules of syntax
but they lacked sincerity and truth
you spoke not from the heart that adventurous night
but from the region in your mind where ignorance grows
like Georgia milkweed
so what if someone unmasks us menfolk and reveal 
to the world who we really are?
strutting like conquerors, flaunting our agonistic tendency
talking domination, subordination, and pussy ad nauseum
threatening to whip some beta dude’s ass
or fuck it for the same egotistical reason
 
As a teenager
I cooked meals, cleaned the house
plaited my sisters’ hair, swept and raked the yard
daydreamed about having sex with a girl
fell in love with girls, was infatuated with girls
and had sex with a grown woman at age seventeen
I read books, played softball, touch football
listened to R&B, Blues, Country, and Gospel music
I ran for the joy of running
worked in southern farm fields
helped my stepfather dig a grave
helped Cousin John pour a concrete foundation in Douglas
graduated high school in 1966 and moved to Atlanta
worked as an orderly in the operating room
at Grady Memorial Hospital
I attended Jacob’s Pillow University of Dance
in the summer of 1968
 
As an adult
I have steadfastly defied the status quo
by not conforming with society’s expectations of me
by refuting others’ definitions of me
and by ignoring the interference of ignoramuses such as you
your way of thinking is of the old century
I danced with DTH, AAADT, Capitol Ballet, Hartford Ballet
Boston Repertory Ballet, Tomoko and Dancers in Kyoto, Japan
and with my advanced-level students in Torino, Italy
I choreographed for Marblehead Civic Ballet
Impulse Dance Company
Humboldt Light Opera
my friends at Weaver High School
and for the cast of  “Grease” in San Mateo, California 
I worked as a caregiver in San Francisco’s AIDS community
I demonstrated with fellow SEIU healthcare employees
in San Francisco’s Financial District
for better post-operative care policies in the city’s hospitals
I answered telephones in the Tenderloin Housing Clinic
worked as a CNA in Leland House
worked as a lawyer’s assistant x2
worked at the polls on election day in the Nineties
experienced homelessness in New York City and San Francisco
and, despite these unfortunate experiences
I continued to read books for self-improvement and enjoyment
while steadfastly following my own truth
and living the only life I have as a multivalent kind of fellow
every day

Am I not a man?
 
When my male peers asked me
“How do you think you’re gonna get somewhere?”
when their disapproval and opposition hurt my feelings 
and effected rigidity in my muscles
and threatened to dissuade me from pursuing my goals
I listened inward to the memory of my mother’s guidance
Hearing her sing the old spiritual song
“Will the circle be unbroken/by and by, Lord, by and by”
I realized that I did not need their approval
and I don’t need yours either
What happened that adventurous night
was just an instance of me finding my gift
and throwing it away
manhood is a higher state
of being male persons human beings
We achieve it by examining our human endowment from the Creator
by meditating on the meaning of life, and by evaluating
our felt purpose in the scheme of society
There comes a day when we must put aside youthful ways
of thinking and acting, and be more about the business
of consciously giving birth to our mature selves 
We must call out each other’ arrogant misdeeds
not in the spirit of joking and jiving
but to demonstrate concern for one another
for life, for maturity, and for love of humankind
We must do the right thing for the sake of doing right
We must practice self-love, mutual respect, and compassion
and always speak truth to power, because the lies
we were told about ourselves during childhood and adolescence
ain’t necessarily so
Gender is a social construct
females are the only life-bringers there are
our psyche is both masculine and feminine
and our male genitalia is a distended vagina

My siblings and other family members
call me brother, Uncle Clover, cousin, and unk
Kenny, my first spiritual son, calls me Cat Daddy
The late Mr. Wendell Franklin called me “that dancing boy”
Friends, lovers, dance colleagues, and work associates
call me Clover, Gianduiotto, Clove, Mr. Mathis, and Sir
Some days I am more like my father: observing society
analyzing what I see, and standing up for the underdog
Other days I am more like my mother: at peace with myself
and breathing in harmony with the whole of existence
Come what may, I will continue to roll along like Old Man River
moving in accordance with my little light
moving in accordance with my little light
Copyright © 2020 Trifoglio

Although memories
May upset your peace of mind, Jerry
Resist the temptation to regret
Learning by trial and error
Is par for the course
Know that the parallel fade of inexperience 
And the lack of foresight are givens 
As you walk the last mile of the way home
Drop your cares by the roadside
And ease on down the road

I picture you fresh out of college, radiant of outlook
And eagerly sharing legal strategies with colleagues 
Whose attitude, vision, and way of thinking
Complemented your own purpose
I hear you speaking to students in classrooms
To judges in courtrooms, to members of the jury
And giving testimony before the Supreme Court
I see you performing onstage in the annual productions 
Of “Lawyer's Briefs”, holding court at parties
And nimbly side-stepping the negativity
Of individuals who spat dark prophesies
And refused to say YES! 
To the revolutionary spirit of the Sixties

As you walk the last mile of the way home 
Let go of yesterday's ways of thinking and being 
Count your blessings
And reflect calmly on the present state of your health
Know that you have come the distance
Know that you have fulfilled your roles at home and in society
Know that you did your very best as best you could
And know that you were, and still are, the only blossom 
Of yourself there is: an esteemed American son, husband 
And father whose presence will always live in the hearts 
Of Silvia, Joyce, Jeffrey, Jonathan, and Collier, too
Copyright © 2018 Trifoglio

Remember: “Women gave birth to the world.”
—Mumia Abu Jamal

Great Mother Spirit checks the lapse
in my courage one more time
her generosity fortifies my soul 
and excites impulses crucial
to withstanding another disappointment 

Per habit, I look within
extract snippets of to and fro
from the store of experiential ore
envision them as choreographed scenarios
and improvise a few steps 
for joy of breathing in/breathing out
and blood running warm in my veins
Copyright © 2005 Trifoglio

One urban swan woman of Caribbean lineage
 one transplanted southern cotton picker from Georgia
 the musical compositions of Nobre, Piccione, Shostakovich, and Grieg
 
Rythmtron   
  As two of six who objectified divine favor
 she, Lydia, Virginia, Walter, Sam and I
exchanged stylistic tendencies
 with a red-toned solemnity and innovative style
as ritualistic and dynamic 
 as Marlos Nobre's percussive, pulsing Brazilian beat   
 
Fun and Games 
 As two doomed young lovers
she and I wended our way
through the soft glowing light of a city park
spoke flattering things to each other nonverbally
and frolicked to Piero Piccione’s pastel notes 
in folksy mode
until the dissonance of a hateful mob raped her
and hanged me
 
Fete Noir
Picture this:
two nubile debutantes dressed in rhinestone-studded grey tulle
 two gallant cadets wearing dark blue jumpsuits
 an abstract ballroom, voluptuous chandeliers
 the lively tones of Dmitri Shostakovich’s
“Piano Concerto No. 2”—the evocative “Andante” movement
 Miss Gayle, Mr. Lazar, and she and I interwove our bodies
in a gracious flow of wordless conversation
as we danced the set sequence of steps
 
Holberg Suite
Standing in the wings, listening inward\looking outward
Edvard Grieg’s melodic “Air (andante religioso)” 
moved over junctions between my neural pathways
contracted the fibrous tissue in my muscles
and
unseen me/myself/he waxed romantic above the ordinary
on entering the stage, I greeted her, Sheila and Pam
then lifted Llanchie out of first arabesque position
into an overhead position
and, carrying her aloft on wings of youthful purpose
we promenaded the magical boards
the lingering lump of hurt resurfaced
but it did not damper the glow of my feeling
Grieg's soaring music and your vibration 
vanquished each disappointment
unseen me removed the habitual caution
that shielded my eager heart
and my soul got happy

Llanchie, it was you

Your Piscean vibration
enabled me with comprehension of my own ability
each time we moved through those sound-filled spaces
our joint focus tended the performances of this favorite duet
into an act of mutual trust and free-flowing spontaneity
you were Grieg’s olden music in human form
my ideal of an African American neoclassical ballerina manifest
the spiritual resonance
of
your darkly bright Caribbean eyes
radiant smile
 mango complexion
kinky raw silk hair 
and blue chiffon dress of light coloration
lives in my awareness
 thank you for being yourself
thank you for letting me be myself 
Copyright © 2019 Trifoglio