I confess to walking barefoot in the snow and bitter cold, short jaunts usually out to fetch the mail.
“A Grief Endured”
by Paul C. Binotto for Lisa, © 2021 North Star, compass of the night, that brought me safely, by your light, across the bridge of anger, that spans the rushing danger, of the awful, sorrowful torrents, to alight, upon the shore of acceptance. I can sense, and see, in the morning air and light, Just … Continue reading “A Grief Endured”
Covid Humor
by Paul C. Binotto © 2021 Scientists have discovered a way to change a sheep into a guinea pig. They give it a Covid-19 vaccination.
“Eagle eggs hold more than baby eagles.”
By Paul C. Binotto © 2021 I believe Bald Eagles eggs hold more than baby eagles. That there’s also room enough inside for new hope. Hope for the species itself. The parents-to-be would have hope, too, if they were capable of reason, and not solely creatures of instinct. But also, hope for the only creatures … Continue reading “Eagle eggs hold more than baby eagles.”
The Appeal
by Paul C. Binotto © 2021 Listen neighbor and friend,though we may rarely agree.You see the forest, while I see the tree.I, a curve, you, a bend.You, the blue, me, the red. You, the heart, and I, the head.Let’s face it and admit.Without either part, a body is dead.Let’s race not after guilt, nor to … Continue reading The Appeal
Limitations
By Paul C. Binotto © 2020 Everyone must confront personal limitations. It's better to approach them, not as rails in a fence in which you are surrounded, erected to hold you back. But, as rungs in a ladder, to be surmounted.
Discovering the Child in Father
by Paul C. Binotto © 2020 Lovingly dedicated to my foster son, Kadan. Every day is an adventure with a four-year-old – I love his amazing imagination! It’s contagious; and it thaws and rekindles my own imagination and refills me with the wonderment of a fresh new world; one for me that has long ago … Continue reading Discovering the Child in Father
Foster Tale
One and a half days to prepare. User-manual not included. cha·os /ˈkāˌäs/nounnoun: chaos; plural noun: chaosescomplete disorder and confusion."snow caused chaos in the region "synonyms:disorder, disarray, disorganization, confusion, mayhem, bedlam, pandemonium, madness, havoc, turmoil, tumult, commotion, disruption, upheaval, furor, frenzy, uproar, hue and cry, babel, hurly-burly; Morea maelstrom, a muddle, a mess, a shambles, a … Continue reading Foster Tale
Notre Dame
Poem of thoughts and impressions on learning about the fire of Notre Dame de Paris on the day it nearly burned to the ground.
Iron Bars
By Paul C. Binotto © 2019 Joy radiates from just beyond, Yet, just beyond my grasp. Continue Reading...
True Beauty
By Paul C. Binotto © 2019 True beauty, is truth, bestowed, And found in the gain of loss... Continue Reading...
Peter Binotto Sr. – WWII Memoir -In His Own Words
Edited by Paul C. Binotto © 2019 After seeing most of the United States, I shipped out for overseas, landing in Scotland, of which we were trucked down to Southampton, England, and entered our barracks near a British Camp. We spent three months there before shipping out – crossing the English Channel in pontoon boats, … Continue reading Peter Binotto Sr. – WWII Memoir -In His Own Words
Mom
by Paul C. Binotto © 2019 A breast, a face, a lap, warm skin, caress and embrace me,Safely to the world from which I sprung to life and clung.Gravity was not enough to keep me grounded there for very long.But, the heart, the calm, the sweet smile, and gazing eye - stars,Set in Heaven, to … Continue reading Mom
Fishing the Holy Waters
by Paul C. Binotto © 2019: (photo courtesy Lisa Binotto) A perfect place for starters,Is fishing in the shallows close at hand;Along the shores in holy waters;Before putting out into the deep, for man.
The Remedy
by Paul C. Binotto © 2019 Christo-Caucasian-Masculinity, To all three, I have an intimate affinity. If this makes me your worst enemy, May you find in God's love, the remedy, To the missed occasion to find the friend in me.
Crumbs Upon the Kitchen Floor
by Paul C. Binotto © 2019 Grain is gold against autumn’s withering dust To be gathered up, carted, and stored. And, drawn down for my winter’s crust, Till all remains are crumbs upon the kitchen floor. While new-seed still sleeps within its sack, And the tools on racks, still burnish rusty stain, The blossoms … Continue reading Crumbs Upon the Kitchen Floor
Then, It Wasn’t, But
by Paul C. Binotto © 2019 Then it was easier, wasn't it, but...With eyes so blind,And wide-open mind,And, heart slammed tightly shut,To the truth. It wasn't my truth.It would take a greater sleuth,Than ever I was, just to find it.To pull back the cover-up, unwind it.Then it was easier, wasn't it, but...Then I couldn't see, … Continue reading Then, It Wasn’t, But
Piercings
by Paul C. Binotto © 2019 Oh, sweet mother pelican, Do set your wet red kiss As seal upon daughter Éireann’s Thirsting waxen lips. That she may taste from you, what is Purest mother’s unmolest’d “Yes”. Because you had no other milk to give, Crimson stains your tender breast To serve yourself to … Continue reading Piercings
“Found in the Clay”
By Paul C. Binotto © 2021 With a pick and a spade,They attempted to bury the truth.But all that they found in clayOf the hole that they made,Was that they’d uncovered more of the proof.
Thumb on My Heart
Paul C. Binotto © 2020 Sometimes it can feelLike your heart is the scale drumThat holds the weight of the world. And just when you think you’veGained an ounce of balance fromAn ounce of burden removed. Satan comes along at his pleasure.And puts his heavy-hand thumbOn it, just for good measure.
Biden Books – A Satire
by Paul C. Binotto © 2020 While under his self-imposed quarantine in the hermit-ically sealed base-mental ward of his home, mediocre monk and media darling, Joe Biden, did not let this time off the campaign trail go to waste. Not so surprising, the media’s presumptive president-elect, former vice-president, and seven-term U.S. senator, instead ambitiously spent … Continue reading Biden Books – A Satire
Foster Parent
by Paul C. Binotto © 2020 Children, though they be not our own.Are so much more than flesh and bone.But seeds, and soil, to be sown. Though you may never see them fully grown,Plant them, tend them, weed them, honeTheir tools to take along. To arm themselves, in prayer and psalm.In agitation, to find their … Continue reading Foster Parent
Fostertales 