Category Archives: Writing by FScavullo

A Wounded Soldier’s Observations

Writing by FScavullo

The smoke lay across the field in a mist like setting, filtering the sun as it peaked through the tall pines at dusk. The gentle gusts of wind lifted the smoldering ash and haze as if to make it dance and swirl around the meadow.   The strong smell of sulfur was predominant as the cries for help from the wounded echoed in the distance.  My injuries left me paralyzed, only able to view the carnage that had just ensued. A plantation house lay in the distance and its faded paint and sagging porches were evidence that time had taken its toll on a once grand lady of the south. The grass was long and unkempt, the fields over grown with weeds and vines with a small barn laying dilapidated, leaning to one side.  My predicament was dire as the sun set in the October sky. Soon night would descend and a cold chill would creep across the barren lands. All feeling had left my body and only my conscious mind was able to function, as if for only to tell the story of my surroundings to an audience of one. This was not a cheerful tale and one that would not be retold to generations to follow. This was the observations of a broken solder, the back drop was the theater for a stage in which I lay so as to loose sense of the true nature of the moment. A bank of billowy grey clouds drifted over head and the setting sun caught their edges dashing them with pink hues sprayed with red streaks. A cool stiff breeze entered from the woods as if death had ridden in to collect its bounty. The grass bowed to the incumbent and laid a path to its new-found trophies.  My body lay cold and still while I accepted the impending end. As I surveyed my surroundings one last time I noticed a small orange throat bluebird perched on a broken limb which now resting on the cold hard ground. Curiously it peered in my direction and seemed to give a slight nod as if to assure me my passing would be peaceful. Darkness settled over the blood soaked meadow and a feeling of tranquility suppressed a brief panic that arose from my gut. I could feel that I was being delivered to the Lord and that all I knew of the past would quickly fade away as if it were just a forgotten dream. As I drifted unconfined from my body I felt truly free, a spirit released, a soul on its final journey.

Frank M Scavullo January 26, 2013

DSCF2720

Captain’s log; Star Date Agosto 18, 2010

Costa Rica Writings, Writing by FScavullo

I have landed in a very different world. The local personas are friendly and most obliging but I proceed cautiously and take each encounter with a watchful eye.  For the most part I have found the personas that habituate in this region friendly and very unassuming. The plant speces, although somewhat familiar are much dissimilar than those of my native land. At this time I equate the abundant foliage to the day after day lluvia, much similar to our rain that covers the tierra that I am most familiar with.  My pattern of language has become a blend of English and the native tongue called Tico. While the native women are beautiful, again I must be cautious and proceed with a high guard. The female species in the large metropolis areas are inclined to receive payment shortly after meeting the opposing sexual category unlike in our land where they acquire payment over the course of several months or even years. From what I can distinguish the rural women appear to be very fertile in conjunction with the surrounding lands.  Most have at least 2 young children following close to their sides. The animal spices are quite different here in many ways. The domesticated animals are in abundance and roam free throughout the region. The livestock are raised mainly free range and have very little corn, hormone or pesticide influence as we have become accustomed to in our native land. I have befriended a large colorful bird which is bilingual in both Espanole and English. She shrieks my name on a daily basis which has become monotonous. The waters in the area are abundant with healthy marine life as well as recyclables which tend to deposit themselves on the playa daily. The infrastructure of the current area in which I exist seems to be very mismanaged which I equate to a corrupt and indolent regime. The roads are crumbling and in disrepair for several month. Most notable is the absence of any military force. For nearly 60 years, even though surrounded by neighboring militant land, the region has had no conflict or need for an army. The locals in the entire region have a catch phrase “pura vida” meaning pure life which is utilized in both saying hello and goodbye as well as to notify an inquiring party that everything is fine or “ todo bien”. I will transmit mas info as it becomes available.

Costa

Costa Rica Writings, Writing by FScavullo, ,

I am a visitor to this land the language I do not speak
I try to make conversation but off my tongue the new words are slow to creep
I take solace in the nearby playas and know the waves understand my plight
The choice was mine alone and I am at peace and know my selection was right
The people are a humble sort and with smiles they carry on their day
Gluttony does not guide most of them; this is very much not their way
In this life, simple is better, you better know this before your venture begins to start
You will be swept away by its beauty and in a short time it will capture your heart
So now the decision is made, yes I will become part of this culture and race
I will disappear from my former life as if gone without a trace.
Frankie Michael Scavullo

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Chivalry Gone

Hilton Head Writings, Writing by FScavullo, ,

Where are the valiant Knights of today

Are they bashful and hiding as if at bay

Without a crusade to fight is it home where they stay

Have they retreated to the country side to contemplate and pray

Has their body armor gone unused and started to decay

Have both man and their horse become tired and turned gray

Is it that their swords have rusted with no more dragons to slay

Maybe the crowds that greeted them after their victories no longer congregated to shout hurray

It seems the fearless Knights of so long ago have all gone away

Frankie Scavullo

What If

Hilton Head Writings

I Saw Him on the Street As If a Common Man

I Looked In To His Eyes and Saw A Healer Preparing To Carry Out His Final Plan

The Wisdom of Two Thousand Years and Beyond Emanated from His Being

I Was In The Presence Of His Holiness and the Feeling Was Most Agreeing

I Asked Him What Had Brought Him Here, To This Place and At This Time

He Answered Me “Have You Not Heard the News for the Final Bell Will Soon Chime”

I Knew Of What He Spoke, Understanding Every Word

For It to Happen In My Life Time Seemed Queer If Not Totally Absurd

Then I Thought Over My Years, Of What I Had Been Witness to

And Seen on Tape

As If on High Speed, Play Back I Visualized All the Worlds Murders, Wars, Abortions and Rapes

A Clear Picture in My Mind Were the Atrocities of the Human Race

My Brain Was Clouded Of Earths Wholesomeness, Its Knowledge Had Been Obscured As If Erased

I Then Was Given the Privilege to Walk with Him and Our Steps Followed Each Their Own

As I Went To Look at Him One Last Time He Was Gone and I Found Myself Alone

I Realized as I Stood There I Was Witness to the Preemptive Second Coming

I Then Heard the Words Whispered, “Tell Everyone” As It Faded To a Gentle Humming

Sunset on Playa Jaco, Costa Rica

Heroes Lost

Charleston Writings, Uncategorized, Writing by FScavullo

Heroes Lost

How will I feel when the last of my heroes die?

Will I act strong in public while in the darkness I cry? Will I fool myself by pretending they still walk the earth?

Will it affect me in such a way that it will diminish my feeling of self-worth?

Will I place others on a pedestal as if to worship like those I lost?

Only to find the replacements are so easily to be tossed.

My heroes will be gone only to be remembered in the recesses of my mind.

In the dark jumbled mental warehouse they will remain safe for me to find.

They raised me, they mentored me and they gave me advice on love and life.

They were there in the good times and will guide me through the bitter strife.

Frank Michael Scavullo July 2006[001027]

Lost Youth

Hilton Head Writings

The year of forty has hit with the force of a baseball bat to the face

My youth is gone and most memories have escaped without a trace

I try to recall the good times that brought me so much joy

But the memories are faded as if a century has passed since I was a boy

The sand box is empty and the stuffed animals have lost their fluff

Now I spend my days in search of misplaced stuff

I can remember for the most part but some details seem to be askew

Like a clear day I can see forever yet I am blinded by the view

 Will it come to me as if laid out on a screen being played on a reel to reel

The emotions will be over powering and I will not know how to feel

My youth will confront me and let me in on the secret that is held inside

It will wash upon me like the ocean carries the tide

Until then I shall try to decipher the forest from the trees

I will keep my prayers steadfast so the Lord hears my pleas

Frankie Scavullo

TIME PASSES SO QUICKLY

Hilton Head Writings

Time passes so quickly; the future is the past with every blink of an eye.

The present tells you to laugh when you know you should break down and cry.

Peoples deception and deciet have laid a path from your footsteps and you wonder what the future will hold.

Then it hits you that nothing will change and what is laid before you lies empty and cold.

Change can happen if your mind is put to it, the future can look shiny and bright.

Your dreams can become a reality and your soul can be free and take flight.

Until then you’re just stuck here to wallow in your pity and self-blame.

Your confessional is the street as you walk with your head hung in shame.

You will blame it on your parents or on the friends you hung out with in the past.

In the end it turns out that time is to blame, for the hands of the clock move to fast.

The sun could ultimately be blamed as we rotate around her with accuracy and grace.

As we peer at the moon and stars we look to the heavens with resentful taste.

Frankie Michael Scavullo July 10, 2005

Riding in Space

Hilton Head Writings

As I sat strapped in my seat awaiting the first firering of the buster rockets I was overcome with a mix of emotions. As I look back on it today I realize it was a quick massive rush of anticipation having awaited this moment for the entirety of my life as far back as I can remember. Fear was the next emotion that overcame me with such force that my entire body stiffened as if paralyzed. I could feel the fear travel throughout my body starting in my toes and up my limbs only to be stopped by what felt like a basketball sized choke in my throat nearly stopping my intake and exhale of breath. And finally exhilaration set in causing me to giggle uncontrollably for a quick moment.  As the rocket started its rapid acceleration from the earth’s surface and broke loose from its docking station I realized that within a few seconds I would be well above the earth and orbiting in the masity of space. Controllers on the ground assured me that “I was looking good and all systems were a go”. I knew I had to get a glimpse of the earth as I departed her safe confines. I leaned forward as best I could against the unimaginable G-force that was pushing me deep into my seat. I then saw the most magnificent sight I had ever seen before. It was as if I were watching a movie through a small round screen and the picture was quickly zooming out. The one large land mass became smaller and was joined by its neighboring islands, then countries, then continents until it was just a large blue ball scattered with random small land masses. Just then the ship took a turn towards the sun and I spotted the tip of the moon coming around the side of the earth. A tear entered my eye as I thought how beautiful God had made the universe.

A muse while listening to Major Tom by David Bowie.

Frankie Scavullo

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Superman is Dead

Hilton Head Writings

I will always remember where I was when I heard Superman had died.

His broken body made of steel could not be revived no matter how hard they tried.

The actors struggle has been retired, for years he would leap great bounds.

Although Christopher was just an actor, he was a superhero to us no matter how silly it sounds.

 It was a day of recent when we found out Superman could die.

I doubt it affected anyone as much as when we heard the news a Kennedy son tried to fly.

Metropolis has lost their greatest citizen yes Superman has past.

Our hero in movies from the eighties has caused the daily planets flag’s to hang at half mast.

Mr. Ed would not have thrown him, Wilber would have talked them both down.

Superman would still be flying causing his nemesis’s to wear long frowns.

He never stopped a devastating catastrophe or saved anyone we actually knew.

He never was on the real news as Clark Kent but he was superman, to that fact we had a clue.

Could he have stopped the war in Iraq or saved Diana from that horrible wreck

Or would Hollywood have kept him in movies playing part next to that animated Shrek?

Would he have stepped in on the horrible election debauchery and arrived at the final truth?

If Peter Sellers were not dead than Inspector Clouseau could assist as a guest sleuth.

He could have borrowed Wonder Woman’s lasso and used it to clean up this planet in which we dwell.

Or maybe Phillip Morris would have brain washed him in the hopes of more cigarettes to sell.

In black and white or color, Superman will never really be dead,

After all he is a character who will forever live in our head

Frank Scavullo

Oct 12 2004 a day after Christopher Reeves death