I never was a victim I was warned of the menacing foe

Someone who should have been trusted deceitful seeds he would sow

I cannot imagine the pain I would have to live with would I think it was my fault

The memories running through my head would they ever come to a halt

Would I know who was to blame as if I could think it were me

Now the congregations eyes are open a clear vision with which to see

We cannot put total responsibility on the church there where predators in our midst

We are taught to forgive our neighbors as we clinch our hands in a fist

I have heard the stories of strangers and from those who are familiar and close

It seems as if justice had turned a blind eye and righteous has left their watchful post

It was told to me by a friend this is a modern day test of faith by our Lord

The true believers shall end up wielding the commanding end of the sword

We must not forget and never let it happen again as it has in the past

For those who have survived our intentions must be constant and steadfast

Frank Michael Scavullo

His name is death and he rides a swift white horse of a ghost.

As if the last supper was to come, and you wish for the final host.

It all comes to your door when the final bell tolls

You look out on the mainland and see all the poor souls

You realize the end is near and you quiver at the thought

All the desperate prayers you sowed, all the countless battles you fought

You know you will awake and all will be well

And once again you will enter the market with your goods to sell.

Each day will be a toil for which you must overcome

Like the constant pounding of your heart like a constant beating drum

The time for all will come when God says it is time

So don’t take this with weight just know that it is a rhyme.

Frank Michael Scavullo

It says D.N.R. on the chart, resuscitate me not.

Let me die on the stretcher lay me to rest in the family plot.

If it’s my time to go let me loose the downhill fight.

Don’t try to bring me back let me walk into the light.

Make no mistake I’m not suicidal, but if it comes to be; let me finish this long drawn out recital.

Some may say I’m crazy I say to each their own.

Nobody’s dropping by to see me or calling on the phone.

A small piece called an obituary would be over looked by most I knew

Whatever happened to him? I doubt anyone would have a clue.

Life would go on without me; it would be left for everyone else to live.

For me I am a D.N.R. I have no more to give.

Frankie Michael Scavullo July 2003

You most always can pin the cause on land, religion or race.

Many wars are fought over each with a great deal of haste.

To try to understand war you must follow events at a rapid pace.

Some revel in their victories leaving behind destruction and waste.

To others war is vial and leaves the person with a bad taste.

To leaders, profit lies in war as they patrol the battle field in their cotton, silk and lace.

The victims are left to mourn the dead that are left lying in their cold wooden case.

Meanwhile the pilots who dropped the bombs return safely to their base.

 Medals are placed on their chest and the heroes are given the title of

Ace.

If you could see all the atrocities of this earth you would never be able to look anyone in the face.

Until we can put aside our differences there will be many more tombstones put in place.

 We will visit from time to time with flowers adorning a tarnished vase. 

                          Frankie Michael Scavullo

Gravity is a bitch that we fight from birth.

Always trying to free ourselves from the rock called earth.

Like superman, if only we could fly through the air.

Instead were stuck here to wallow in our dispare.

Oxygen is another that keeps us trapped where we stand.

Was life here figured out, was it even planned?

The moon, the planets all circulating in space,

And here we are stuck in this sphere of a place.

Astronauts venture, punching the envelope with every ride.

Like a microorganism being washed up with the tide.

A grain of sand on the beach we are smaller with every breath.

New generations to follow the past but to all inevitable death.

Live life to its fullest escape its confines when you have the chance.

Like a strange twisted melody that forces you to dance

Frankie Scavullo

THE TASTE OF BITTER STRONG COFFEE
THE INTOXICATING SMELL OF PAPER WHITES IN BLOOM
THE EXHILARATION OF CLASSIC SWING MUSIC
THE FEELING OF STUBBING YOUR TOE
THE VIEW FROM A PLANE UPON DECENT
THE SMELL OF FRESH CUT GRASS IN SUMMER
THE SORROW THAT ACCOMPANIES DEATH
THE JOY THAT ACCOMPANIES BIRTH
THE FIRST KISS, THE FIRST CARESS
SCORING THE WINNING POINT
THE FIRST TASTE OF WHISKEY
THE TASTE OF SALT WATER ON YOUR LIPS
A HUMPHREY BOGART FILM
RUNNING AS FAST AS YOU CAN
THE RELIEF AFTER BEING SCARED TO NEAR DEATH
THE SMELL OF A BABY
THE ALARM CLOCK ON YOUR DAY OFF
THE SOUNDS WHILE YOU DRIFT IN AND OUT OF SLEEP ON THE BEACH
A SMALL KITTEN
FREE FALLING
SOFT LINEN ON YOUR SKIN
UNCONTROLLABLY SHIVERING IN THE COLD
PUPPY BREATHE
RETURNING TO WORK AFTER VACATION
A PLUMP FRESH OYSTER
SITTING STILL FOR A PICTURE
LIFE FMS 4/03

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The Big Fight

Take the kid gloves off I’m about to go in.

Hell, Purgatory and all the evil bouts with sin.

I know I can’t lose I’m on the side of just & right.

No need to question my judgment so it’s time to start the fight.

I think of my parents, the family they raised so strong.

Generations of joy and hardships going back to years of long.

Saint Michael is my cut man giving strength with every round.

I land punch after punch without making a sound.

As favor goes my way I feel the trinity roar.

The knockout punch is landed for the weak, the meek, the poor.

Frank Scavullo

I MADE MY BED BUT I CANNOT SLEEP.

I SPILT MY MILK BUT HAVE NO TEARS TO WEEP.

I CRAWLED BEFORE I TRIED TO WALK.

I WALKED THE WALK BUT COULDN’T TALK THE TALK.

I USED A SILVER SPOON SINCE BIRTH BUT IT DOES NOT SEEM TO WORK.

IT ALL SEEMS A SILLY BITTER QUIRK.

I WAS SURE TO MAKE A STITCH AT JUST THE RIGHT TIME, I MUST NOW SIT AND WAIT TO SEE IF IT SAVED NINE.

I NEVER MADE A MOUNTAIN OUT OF A TINY MOLE HILL, FOR ALL THE DRAMA AVOIDED I SIT HERE ALONE AND STILL.

I FIND LIFE’S BARK IS WORSE THAN ITS BITE,

I WIN THE DAILY STRUGGLE AND COME OUT TRIUMPHANT IN THE YEARLY FIGHTS.

I HEAR THE CRIES OF LET THEM EAT CAKE,

AND SEE THE COMMON PEOPLE TAKE, TAKE, TAKE.

I’M TOLD I CANNOT LIVE ON BREAD ALONE, AS I SQUEEZE EVERY ROCK TRYING TO GET BLOOD FROM A STONE.

I BURN THE CANDLE AT ONLY ONE END, FOR ALL MY TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS I HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE TO LEND.

MORE MONEY MORE PROBLEMS HAVE ECHOED FROM RECENT TIMES, AS IT REPLAYS OVER AND OVER SO DO THE CRIMES.

DEAD AND BURIED, PUSHING UP DAISIES IN A FIELD.

FROM HERE ON OUT, IN THE AFTER LIFE YOUR FATE IS SEALED.

 FRANKIE SCAVULLO 11/20/2002