Gallery Display

The following works, most of which have appeared in Snapshot Couplets over the past
few years, will be displayed as large canvas prints in the Piper Gallery of the The Cary
Memorial Library, Lexington, MA, during the month of July, 2015.
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Keys of black and white open me
to realms of multicolored melody.
Piano Mantras - 1

Without a match, a pianist lights a fire,
a sonic blaze which needs no amplifier.
Piano Mantras - 2

Sheet musical notes, eggs of black and white,
hatch when played, from fingers taking flight.
Piano Mantras - 3

That melody in your mind is solely mental,
but you can play and make it instrumental.
Piano Mantras - 4

Chopin had it right– at times the singers
are not our voices but our supple fingers.*
Piano Mantras - 5

Beginner at the piano – excited and humble –
like children learning to walk, fingers stumble.
Piano Mantras - 6

Wordlessly, whole worlds can be relayed
as music landscapes from a piano played.
Piano Mantras - 7

A pianist presses, a guitarist plucks and strums;
through countless ways a beautiful music comes.
Piano Mantras - 8

You have to turn some keys to unlock doors,
but other keys are touched and music pours.
Piano Mantras - 9

Infinities incarnate, sensationally expressed
in touch as when a piano’s keys are pressed.
Piano Mantras - 10

We each will see truth from a different angle,
but points of view converge around an angel.
January Vertigo

While clothed in thick illusions, reality will strip,
where you can glimpse the space-time fabric rip.
Reality Balance

Before it was chopped down, this gorgeous tree
held concerts played by wind and birds for free.
Treble Tree

Those physicists think all is made of strings.
Like music from guitars the cosmos springs.
Cosmic Music

Putting in words what you mean to my soul
is like squeezing a galaxy into a cereal bowl.
Mind Food 5

Sparks at night shot from my black cat’s paws,
small lightnings with a blanket-plucking cause.
Untitled

On summer nights – without a need for tickets –
it’s sweet attending concerts played by crickets.
Cricket Concert

From charted data we may learn a lot,
but there are truths we can never plot.
Untitled

They are priceless – sparrows shattering my sleep,
outside the window chirping, “cheap, cheap, cheap.”
Untitled

Your loveliness eludes all adjectives,
like waterfalls can’t be held in sieves.
Untitled

Mario A. Pita

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Prayer Sprouts – 2

I’m not the light. In darkness, I’m certain,
You are the light – I only open the curtain.
Untitled

The body is a dead end street, and You,
for reaching to heaven, the only avenue.
SF09420

Your walking on the waves has not been beat,
though stepping on the moon was quite a feat.
Untitled

Although, by now, my many years have piled,
I hope – O Love – I’m nonetheless your child.
DSC_0794 2

Because I love to write for You, I’m wordy,
but may I – more importantly – be worthy.
DSC_0677

My deepest plea, O please do not refuse me,
is that You will, despite my failings, use me.
Untitled

May I belong to You from whom life pours,
forever – Creator and Savior – solely yours.
Untitled

Mario A. Pita

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Condensed Songs

1
You couldn’t care less for drunkenness from booze:
you’re tipsy from fresh air – intoxicant you choose.
Untitled

2
The kisses that return as ghosts aren’t wanted:
much more than any house, a heart is haunted.
Untitled

3
You needn’t live in fear of being shattered:
like seeds from pods, everyone is scattered.
Untitled

4
You’re sad your conscience isn’t pure. At least
you have a conscience since you aren’t a beast.
Untitled

5
When I was lost, the forest didn’t find me,
but if I forget the way, it could remind me.
DSC_0393

6
A century passed away. Its corpse looked bleak,
but you felt hope in songs from a thrush’s beak.
Untitled

7
Like a beautiful melody, a picture poser
reminds me the cosmos has a composer.
Untitled

Inspired by 1) Emily Dickinson, I taste a liquor never brewed 2) Carl Sandburg, Kisses, Can You Come Back Like Ghosts? 3) Richard Wilbur, Two Voices In A Meadow 4) Wislawa Szymborska, In Praise of Feeling Bad About Yourself  5) David Wagoner, Lost 6) Thomas Hardy, The Darkling Thrush 7) W.H. Auden, The Composer

Mario A. Pita

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Choir Reveries

The men sing lower and the women higher:
we range from earth to heaven in the choir.
Untitled

“Does God exist and love us?” you inquire.
I answer – singing – with a church’s choir.
1987

We’ll die, our prospects evidently dire,
but we affirm life’s triumph in a choir.
DSC_0040b

As current for a light flows through a wire,
a melody’s delight flows through the choir.
Boston Angel

A soul is clothed in flesh, and that attire
is woven by the one praised by the choir.
DSC_0426 2

Though discord forces globally conspire,
may harmonies prevail – as in the choir.
Somerville Angel

We don’t live for possessions we acquire
but for the Love we’re praising in a choir.
Untitled

Mario A. Pita

Inspired by the choir of Saint John The Evangelist, Cambridge, MA

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Endearing Wonders

Sparks at night shot from my black cat’s paws,
small lightnings with a blanket-plucking cause.
Untitled

On summer nights – without a need for tickets –
it’s sweet attending concerts played by crickets.
Cricket Concert

Obliged to walk the dog in snow at night,
deep beauty mitigates a cold wind’s bite.
Untitled

From charted data we may learn a lot,
but there are truths we can never plot.
Untitled

They are priceless – sparrows shattering my sleep,
outside the window chirping, “cheap, cheap, cheap.”
Untitled

Your loveliness eludes all adjectives,
like waterfalls can’t be held in sieves.
Untitled

Splendor beyond myself can humble me:
among resplendent blooms, a bumble bee.
Untitled

Mario A. Pita

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Focus

A camera won’t focus on its lens
but on the world beyond it being shot
as you don’t focus on yourself but cleanse
your mind to clear transparency of thought.
You focus on what cameras can’t capture,
the source of all creation and our rapture.

Anima Camera

Mario A. Pita

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Monochrome Dreams

The businesses in town seemed mundane, mostly,
then sunlit glass formed gowns appearing ghostly.
Spirit Garments

Our paths are singular or they are joint,
but all are going to the vanishing point.
Man Approaching the Vanishing Point

Transmitted from our hearts or from church spires,
our prayers stream to You as though through wires.
Prayer Wires

My grandmother was first to reach the light.
My grandfather was next to pass from sight.
Untitled

As melancholy loads us with its weights,
we can’t imagine then what bliss awaits.
Untitled

The sculpture made of rock can’t be a star
the way that you, my rock star sibling, are.
Paris Lourdes

You cultivate your heart, soul soil field,
so love can be the crop that it will yield.
amypeace

As sunlight weaves in fences, scenes are clad
in patterns, like a skirt’s, crisscrossing, plaid.
Boston Station

We want to stay on track with plans yet know,
beyond the one-track mind, tall feelings grow.
Untitled

You beckon us, Abuelo, right hand raised,
serenely to the Love through ages praised.
Abuelo

Mario A. Pita

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