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

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; 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

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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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

I write down my thoughts starting with a first line

I proceed most usually in the style of a rhyme write about nature and those who have passed

I do this on paper to be sure my thoughts will last

They are the thoughts that I am feeling at that moment and at that time

Some are uplifting and spiritual while others carry a dark chime

It has been asked of me by those who have read my thoughts if I am feeling o.k.

Some read into to it that I am crying out for help because on this earth I no longer want to stay

What I write are observations during that time in my life that I record

Whether it be happy, romantic or sad

To not write them down I cannot afford

This is written for those of you I will leave behind

Let sadness not follow for it is happiness you should find

I will enter unto a peaceful more divine place

The memories of me should bring a smile to your face

My soul will be set free from the confines of this shell

I will live in your head for future generations to tell

I did nothing spectacular that the history books will record

I followed an ancient belief in God and kept close to the Lord

It is easy when you receive the blessings that I have been bestowed

My family has remained strong down a fairly smooth road

So when I pass think of me and let my memory bring joy to each day you start

For I will be alive in everybody who loves through the power of the Sacred Heart

Frankie Scavullo

We share a common mother, as we share a common moon.

When we wish we were elsewhere, like Sylvester and his pebble, Mommy is there to guide us, like bass is to treble.

She is the woman, our mother, that always hears our plea. Beyond any of our expectations of a boy, an apple and a giving tree.

The thought of Mommy exhilarates us, like the sound of music and running in a field. Mommy is strong, for quickly her cracked shell will be healed.

Mommy is always prepared for whatever may arise. Like Mary Poppins, her bag is filled with more than one surprise.

She raised us on Richard Scary, faith and New Yorker cartoons.

When the pieces were falling around us, she was there to pick up the ruins.

There is a voice can you hear it? Everything is going to be okay”.

Mommy has grandchildren, they will call her out to play.

So imagine a cross, bright above her bed and know she is in good hands.

For the Holy Trinity is with us as countless as the ocean sands.

Frankie Michael Scavullo

Written shortly after Mommy suffered a stroke in 2004

I live for the beach and the warmth of the sun.

The rays from the summer moon and the days of lost fun.

The walks with my dog on a breezy warm beach;

or with someone special, as a confidant  with whom my secrets won’t breach.

On the water and alone is where I search for inner peace.

It is where the cares of the world disappear, and the toils of the day tend to cease.

I feel quite spoiled this life I made by the sea

As I look for elsewhere to go, I find that this is where I want to be.

Frankie Michael Scavullo March 1, 2004