for no woman is greater than any other and the only crime is when history represses their identities and once again when we are all equal and religion is a one person affair,

      to each his own truth, each his own god, isn't he the same whether Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Wiccan, Pagan, Jew, or Hindu.

      Let us all join hands together and celebrate our humanity.

      Let us all join hands together and celebrate our community,

      for when all sides stop harming the other with lies, misrepresentations, burnings and hatred, perhaps then I can say I have been saved.

      We have been saved from our hypocrissy, our hatred and our closed mindedness for we are all children of the earth, brothers and sisters and all paths lead into the afterlife

      and one day, you will find me there and I will accept you, will hug and kiss you and will ask you my dear ladies and lords -

      May I have this dance?

I am a Hug Waiting to Happen

by Michael A. Destro (July, 2001)

      I am a hug waiting to happen.
      I am a kiss waiting at a lonely door.
      I am an ear plugged into a rant.
      I am feet lost in the rhythm of a rave.

      Come sit beside me. Tell me no secrets, tell me only dreams.
      Come let us create flowcharts.
      Give me your desire, I'll do the research to see it fulfilled.

      You say you want to fly, to dance, to be..., to be...
      What do you want to be - to be a teacher, to be a scientist, a doctor, a lawyer, a sales clerk at some small store?
      You say you want to heal, to recapture what it is you've lost.

      I say, " come sit beside me on my candied apple bench " and let us plot points on your goal post,
      For I determine nothing more then to see you make a touch down in life.

      There is no such thing as a losing team, only quitters,
      People who never even tried,
      People who perheps tried, but always gave up.

      I am a hug waiting to happen.
      I am a smile waiting to enlighten.
      I am a dream waiting to be fulfilled.
      I am a net waiting to catch you.

      You say you want to lose weight, to work out more,
      That you should do more walking,
      Should get out and be more social,
      Should clean your house,
      Should go back to school,
      Should start saving money.
      You say you should have fallen in love sooner.

      Come sit beside me on white chocolate chairs. "
      Sipping kool - aide from lemon candied mugs,
      Our toes painting caramel pictures on Butter taffy clouds -
      We dive into pools of J-ello,
      Cook marshmallows over a dragonfire,
      Sleep on Beds of Cotton Candy frolic through fields of buttercups and tiger lillies,
      Pull lollipops off of newly grown trees,
      Drink from the icecream fountain - any flavor you can dream of.
      I've always wondered how long I could lick Spumoni.
      What flavors did you pick?

      Let us eat pieces of cookie off of the cookie tower,
      Ginger bread, chocolate chip, peanut butter and little shortbreadmen.

      I am a hug waiting to happen.
      I am a grin waiting to smear.
      I am blood yearning to give life.
      I am a heart waiting for the right one.
      I am a heart and I beat for humanity.
      I am a stomach waiting for a head to accept.

    " Come sit beside me and share with me your joy."
      Come and join me in this dance.
      Let us skip, let us run, let us roll down cherry blossom hills,
      Let us climb mountains and dive, never to fear drowning.
      Let us jump rope, hopscotch, dodge ball, four square.

      My mother, your mother, live across the street 1819 Alligator Street.
      Every night they had a fight and this is what they said ...
    " Boys are rotten made out of cotten - girls are dandy made out of candy;
      Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider - girls go to Mars to get more Candy Bars!"

      Let me take you out into the center of the cheesy green moon,
      Let us go upstairs where Cinderella dressed in yellow went up those stairs to kiss that fellow -
      Instead she kissed a snake.
      How many doctors did it take?
      We'll play kickball and you can be on my team.
      I won't pick you last.
      We'll play baseball and I won't keep score.

      You want your dreams fulfilled, but most of all.
      You want to be young again,
      Young knowing what you know now,
      But I say there should be no regrets,
      Who's to say you're too big or too old to do all I have described?
      We'll play house, however my stuffed rooster drinks tequila and not tea.

    " Come smile. "
    " Come, I want to feel and taste your laugh. "
    " Come, sit beside me and let us be friends. "
      Let us not worry about falling in love, only the love of being here...Right Now.

      I am a Hug Waiting to Happen.

For My Mother

by Michael A. Destro (May 11, 2008)

      I. Within your conch
          I was concieved in an ocean of love,
          that you welcomed me into this world
          with your smile, your laughter, your hugs.

      II. Mother, it was you, whom prayed with me at night,
          tucked me into bed real tight,
          watched me from the bed across,
          held my hand when air refused to come
          and wiped my tears with your kiss.

      III. Everyone thought you were my older sister, so young you were.
            So young you are, that when I see myself in the mirror,
            I see a reflection of you,
            your eyes, your smile, your laughter, your hugs.

      IV. Mother, it is my turn now,
            to tuck you into bed,
            to kiss you on the forehead and say a prayer with you.
            That you go to sleep this night knowing
            how thankful I am to have you as my Mother,
            to have you as my friend and my sister.

          Tonight, as in every night,
          I say a prayer for you,
          that even though a continent separates us,
          you are closer to me than ever,
          that there isn't a man on this earth who is as proud of you as I am
          and who loves his mother,
          as much as I do.

A Thought On Father's Day

by Michael A. Destro (June 15, 2008)

        Bodies riddled with bullets manufactured in factories of silver tongued trees;
        here where the words printed on blood soaked paper doesn't matter.
        Only the desire to bring democracy.
        We bring more wood for them to make paper,
        for them to print modern fairy tales,
        the prince and princess will marry in heaven,
        will marry in heaven when the General gives the order.

        Sons ... Daughters ... Mothers ... Fathers ...
        Another generation lost.

        War has now been declared against heaven,
        for information has been leaked,
        it has been printed in newspapers, in magazines,
        heard on the radio, on TV;
        that those in heaven are manufacturing nuclear weapons,
        that our soldiers must die quicker,
        the roots of our family trees hacked off quicker,
        our hope spilled quicker,
        our dreams dried up quicker,
        so they can have a freer heaven, a democratic heaven.
        God is a dictator. The devil is one too.
        Our armies will show them the awe of our weapons,
        what we are able to do with free will.

        Bodies with severed limbs lie in the desert
        manufactured by the mirage of oil, the mirage of peace.
        Young men, old men, women who now have the right to die in battle,
        cry out for thirst, cry out questions that will never be answered,
        that now the axe of industry, the axe of large corporations
        continue swinging the blade until it has severed the roots
        of every last family tree.

        Sons ... Daughters ... Mothers ... Fathers ...
        Another generation lost.

Copyright © Michael A. and Ioana M. Destro 2008