.

Maurice Mancini

Maurice Mancini 

destruction precedes construction -  Picasso

objects are just an external manifestation of an internal process  -  Mo

put it on ice, it don't go bad  -  Ray

I received an MA Sculpture from Goddard College, Plainfield ,Vermont in 1974.  My advisor was Morgan Gibson, a poet, to whom I owe many thanks.
 
From my paternal grandfather, Carmine, I learned the magic, the beauty of a well told story and I was amazed by the wonderful gifts he made, with basic hand tools and salvaged materials. He heard the old men in the village say that man will never fly.  He walked 10 miles to see the first airplane.
 
I am grateful to the Origami Poems Project for your support and waking me from my stupor.

•

Visit his Artist's Page and enjoy some guitar music while you read his poetry.

► Mo's Micro-chapbooks & selected poems are available below.

Origami Micro-chapbook

Selected Poem(s)

Postcards from Paradise

  

Postcards from Paradise

the faces
look familiar
though the names
i don't recall
i must have
been there
old photographs
have no reason to lie.
post cards from paradise
but i'm left with a longing
i just don't understand
for something lost long ago
beyond my grasp
before kodachrome.
post cards from paradise
bring me no peace
places forgotten, lost faces
and this boat just carries me
further from shore, drifting
with this postcard from paradise.
•
Maurice Mancini © 2012

Street Corner Poet

  

Cover:
Charlie Getter / Barts Street Corner Poets

Looking for you or someone like you all my life

a flicker
caught in the corner of my eye
as I drove home
past the farm the full moon
in the clearing
running beside me
as it rises in the heavens
and
while this motion
drew me along
on the radio
“dreaming of a world”
rose to awareness threshold
I have been wondering about you,
I have not seen you
or any sign of you as of late
and before I saw the moon
before I began dreaming
of this world
I thought of you
•
Maurice Mancini © 2012

Shaking the ground where I rest

  

Poem III



another bike ride
brings me to the train station
again
lingering long enough
to see and feel the high speed Acela
fly by heading north
shaking the ground where I rest
and then the high speed Acela  
flys by heading south
again shaking the ground where I rest
before climbing aboard my bike
sliding my feet into the cages
adjusting my grip
and setting myself
comfortably into the saddle
picking up speed as I leave the station
heading west
on my return
before the setting sun
over takes me
and daylight abandons me
•

Maurice Mancini  © 2011

Social Dancing

  


Social Dancing

social dancing
at ten or eleven
once a week
after school
we meet in the cafeteria
properly attired
groups of boy and girls laughing, giggling and snickering
until
miss malmberg, the principal arrived
amongst bows and courtesy's
we fox trotted
waltzed
and even cha cha’d
but really this story has gone on for too long
it is not about the dancing
but the dance after the dancing
it must have been winter
class was dismissed
we clambered about the coat rack
hats coats
gloves
my gloves
were gone gloves
lynn had taken my gloves
my memory has discarded some details
the facts remain true
lynn had taken my gloves
repeatedly to my request for their return she denied their possession
seemingly taunting me with her denial
I went home without gloves
probably with hands in my pockets my own
returning to school next morning
lynn greets me
here are your gloves
those are not my gloves
I retort
no bow no curtsey
no dance
a lesson I long remember
•
Maurice Mancini © 2009
Collaborative with Lynnie Gobeille
  

Do You Hear Me Now

  

Opening Lines

a boat
a smaller boat
a boat small enough for easy
short handed sailing
large enough for Spartan accommodations
and good sea keeping abilities
it was dark and blustery
echoing my mind’s state
when I leave the marina
the boat prepped and secure
seeking the turbulence
hidden in the darkness within the wind
to soothe my soul
•
Maurice Mancini © 2011

Uncle

  

UNCLE


Page One:

I have been working on a story about my uncle
but it seems to be an unstable platform and
keeps shifting in its sleep as if alive
evolving, even as he is dead
my uncle died, just shy of eighty-nine years
a cantankerous old man

I miss you already
but find solace in knowing you are in
good hands again
hoping you find peace
in the home of your father
comfort by your mother’s side
and joy in the welcoming arms of your brother

I wrote infrequent letters describing some
project or event in my life
sometimes I sent pictures, maybe a poem
never a reply or a mention,
I wrote when I wanted
rarer were my visits
·

Maurice Mancini © 2011

Along The Way

  

 

Untitled

do not take a picture of me
capture me forever frozen
as I was for a moment
let me paint a picture of myself
for you
as I am now in this moment with you
becoming
•
Maurice Mancini © 2010

 

Comments   

 
# Victoria Burdick 2013-03-23 17:53
Blown Away ~ and so very touched with a sense of pride for my dear friend whose soulful aperture continues to dilate and share the light ~ XO
Reply
 
 
# Jeanne Bojarski 2013-03-25 23:21
Maurice showed me a new way of seeing through both painting and words the moment he came into my life by chance 35 years ago. NO! I resist that interpretation. It was not chance but the synchronicity of the universe that hits you over the head with the people who become your friends. I was sad when he gave up painting and sold me the ones I loved, the whole lot, still here on my living room wall, singing.

I am so glad you are still out there being a creative human being. So glad you are still my friend.
Reply
 

Add comment

Clickable links ....