Tuesday, December 6, 2011
In My Michigan (The unofficial song of the Great State of Michigan) by Chris Migliore
In Michigan, My Michigan,
There’s Great Lakes and forest trees,
The robin sets down to rest.
Among the beauty is white pine,
Their glory Spring of life,
The sun melts through them all.
Between Isle Royale and Petoskey,
The brook trout, brings us new life
The apple blossoms bloom down below.
If you seek a peasant place,
If you seek a pleasant place,
Look, look, look… about you.
This poem is a song written in 2007 to honor the great state of Michigan. Though I appreciate our current unofficial song Michigan My Michigan, I wanted to write a more pleasurable song.
Copyright 2007 @ Chris J.P. Migliore
No Fear by Chris Migliore
Once upon a time—
In a house, so long ago…
On a cold wintry night-- When all was drear.
There was joy, laughter, Love,
… and no fear,
for my Mother—
was there—
for me.
She prepared the food,
For all to enjoy.
All the trimmings to make it a special time.
Out of this came memories of love for us all...
The memories to last the life through.
The music was played,
We talked of old…
The relatives came from long far way.
They enjoyed my mother’s
Warmth and care.
They left,
Feeling
No fear.
It seems that’s long ago, But not more than an hour.
The warmth I feel will last a whole life through.
Once upon a time—
In a house, I imagine near…
On a spring-like day—Now all seems bright!
There is joy, laughter, Love,
… and no fear,
for my Mother—
is there—
for me!
C.J.P.M.
This poem was started the week I returned to St. Scholastica School after my mother’s death in the Winter, 1999. As I was thinking in the car on the way to school, I jotted down some words of what my mother meant to me over the years. When I arrived at school, I sat down at my computer and finished it off.
Copyright 2007 @ Chris J.P. Migliore
O Lady by Chris Migliore
O Lady
O lady
How has your Grace
been lost?
America tears
In your presence.
The weary are lost
In bondage under freedom.
For joy it once felt,
Is held bound
By greed and power.
In America,
The dignity and hope in ecstasy,
Sought by our ancestors,
Has faded,
Faded into desperate cries
For her descendents.
Graceful Lady of our nation,
Your face saddens
At our complacent fate.
Of faceless
Thoughtless powers,
Who disrupt our ways.
For those who slice up
Our forefather’s intentions,
Lawlessly into pieces.
They would not recognize
Our Lady’s thoughtful prayer.
Your beauty,
Body and Heart,
Has been regenerated now.
Restored is your Grace and dignity?
May this be an example of renewed hope
That all may again be granted
Hope for a better life,
An exciting tomorrow
AND,
Every tomorrow of our lives.
To my first visit to New York City Thursday July 28, 1991. To this statue and the restoration of her body and soul, I dedicated this poem.
Copyright 2007 @ Chris J.P. Migliore
Aegen, Aegen by Chris Migliore
Aagen, Aagen,
Has a reason-
Two heads are better than one.
Keep one in light you see,
In frontal unity,
To keep hidden all chaos.
But, for the another you see,
Has seen “hardly any light.”
Carefully hidden away
Until that desperate and hounding hour.
As Aagen keeps it hidden-
It’s deep like the sea
On one stormy night or more.
As morning’s stormy serenity can build into chaos again.
So does Aagen and his two heads.
And, so we see his other “dawn’s early light”
Now, Aagen brings chaos-
Not just for another perilous day,
And not just beyond tomorrow,
But one that will dismally shine perpetually for years.
Written in 1984, in response to President Reagan and his way of switching sides so quickly on any issue, very much as playing a part, like he use to do in the movies. He would show the bad truth only when he was totally out of untruths.
Copyright 2007 @ Chris J.P. Migliore
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