"Grande Latte Please"

----

Grande Latte Please

Living on the street
Grande latte please
Dirt under your fingernails
Low fat milk
Hair unkempt and unshaven
Cinnamon on top
Head low to the table
Cookie cutter track on the radio
Wrinkles on wrinkles
Business suits at a blur
Invisible and indivisible
I dare you to look me in the eye
A song about someone's son, someone's mother
Grande latte please

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (10 Dec)

"Fire"

----

Fire

Though I found it strange, I could smell the dampened fire a mile away
The scent followed me through my work and thoughts
Low, deep and not yet ready to retreat to the snows of December
I could see the embers in my mind
If I could smell them, they were there
Some may remain, some are gone forever into slate gray skies
Some linger to remind
All surrender, then, now, later, to find the next life
They follow me inside and I wonder if the others know as we sit down for supper

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (7 Dec)

"They Look Down"

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They Look Down

Long tall tree shadows pierced the comfort of the man made boundaries
Some shadows are older than our grandfather's grandfather
They look down with Luna's aid on the present from the height of their ancient tops
Roots mingle with the dreams and tears of possibility
They only whisper this night as the glow from above ripples on a more turbulent water
We retreat as so often, man and beast, to our small pleasantness

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (7 Dec)

"Between the Lines"

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Between the Lines


Dust gathered
Cracked open
Poems read
Words inside my head

Small perfect dried flowers
Pressed between the pages
Frozen with the original intention of beauty
I don't remember why they became a part of that particular book
But there they will stay
Until the next uncalculated look between the lines
May they be other eyes

(c) 2009 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (8 Feb)

"Unbottle"

----

Unbottle

Do I unbottle or do I back the throttle?
What does the muse desire?
She says to take the cover off my young man
Release the beast
Fire the engine and hold on
Scream if you want
Laugh as you will
It is all your ride

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (7 Dec)

"The Sea Has No Memory"

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The Sea Has No Memory

The sea has no memory
The sea is all memory
It may be deep and cold
But there is forever
There is forgiveness
Sleep in my sea
Dive if you dare
Jump with both feet
The memory will stop you
Block you from entry
You can find the door
There in the sea floor
Ask Alice the back way in
Memory is the key
But my sea has no memory

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (2 Dec)

"What Do I Lack?"

----

What Do I Lack?

I waited
I was frustrated
You never made it
Will you come back?
What do I lack?
Nothing

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (2 Dec)

"Silent and Seething"

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Silent and Seething

You are silent and seething
Always with that wall of never seeing - never wanting to see
You were pushed and the pushers are penalized though not recognized
Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe never
A babe in the world order
Seething and teething
May you be delivered

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (2 Dec)

"Cracked Windshield"

----



Cracked Windshield



A vision through a cracked windshield

The snow was thicker towards the end

A single track on the snow covered gravel

Darker trees, brighter stars, glowing snow

The swirling tunnel of crystals was dizzying

The headlights refracted, deflected in cracked glass

The last of the tire trail disappeared

A white river led me home through my cracked windshield



(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (1 Dec)

"For Seren"

----

For Seren

There are days now when I am paralyzed with my love for you, my daughter.
An ancient and powerful connection seizes my heart and mind and I see your face before me.
I am overwhelmed when I think of you, only two, and your mother, two gifts to me that I somehow cannot fathom.
I am so thankful that you are here and that I am learning to know this new and beautiful you.
This new and beautiful love.

(c) 2005 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (27 Jul)

"How Many Towns?"

----

How Many Towns?

One more crumbling mining town
One more AM radio station gone to static
It's a long road back and even further going forward
Mud covered pickups dot the landscape
They sit waiting outside the coffee shops
Shuttered houses and patient hearts
One more swollen river drifts under bridge
Somewhere in this and that old mining town

Right or left down a lonesome highway
Flatbeds loaded with life's possessions
Crooked crosses mark the path
Humming tires and startled animal eyes
Keeping company with Spring's first battle
Fight the night and cabin's fever
How many towns show me the way?

(c) 2007 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy

"By the Line"

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By the Line

By the line is fine
One word, one sentence
No sadness
No guilt or penance
Put them all together
String them along
Like a song
Then remembrance
Then it comes
By the line

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (Nov)

"Grams"

----

Grams

Hello boy
Scottish plaid and a royal name
Homemade apple sauce
Oatmeal, whipped honey and shortbread
Mama's little baby, grandma's little baby
Loves it, loves it a lot
To Canada, oh Canada
The farms, the family, the farms
Knuckle crunch, snap on the watch and hugs
Ewww, kiss on the lips
Watch it now
How do you like them apples young man?
Love you boy

(c) 2005 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy

"Pushkinskaya Square"

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Pushkinskaya Square

There, just off Pushkinskaya square
There, in Tchaikovsky's shadow
A walk to the Pekin Hotel in the snow
They told me that KGB still lives
Food under the glittering lights
A last supper that they never get
The taste of a success that was a guess
A shiver, a gust of damp air
There, just off Pushinskaya square

(c) 2000 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (Aug)

"Long Nights"

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Long Nights

We enter the long nights
The days struggle in the deepest valleys
Old, old shadows return and the spirits walk the forest
Still, still stars and moon, our companions
We awake at night and listen for the coming dawn

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (14 Nov 2008)

"Stones"

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Stones

He stared at the stones
Looking for the word
Looking for the sign
Traffic just a blur unseen
No matter for the immortal
The stones aren't talking today
Shuffle on by

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (28 Oct)

"My Brother"

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My Brother

My brother, they may try to drag you down
They may try to damage you
They may try to destroy you
You must resist at all costs, no costs to your soul
You must prevail at all costs, no costs to your soul
Save your family, save your children
We can fight on our own
We always have
Save yourself, my brother

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (31 Oct)

"Two Track"

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Two Track

Our little two track was just fine
Now we have a wide bitter road to sink through
This green valley is split like nature's heart, broken in two
Progress is the folly, greed and guidance the architects
The wren and the elk don't know why and maybe it doesn't matter
Peace and space for us we pray, perhaps for our neighbors all

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (25 May)

"All This for Her"

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All This for Her

See the summer sumersault, on the butterfly towel
Blue pool on the the peeling deck for the son to follow
Swaying flowers and trees accompany the persistent wren
The grass so green it invites her down to play again
A creature of nature so pure, all of this for her

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (6 July)

"See Red"

----

See Red

Walking the tracks
Don't look back
Your world is black
But you see red

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (6 July)

"I Remember (1)"

----
I Remember (1)

I remember the airport in Budapest, Hungary
Headed back to Moscow with more questions than answers
I had my remaining Forints to spend on nothing
The sense of leaving civilization, for some returning
Escape, loss, sadness, excitement and that fresh look of the airline
Slick pilots, flight attendants, chatting with one all the way to Moscow
I began to forget the wait at the Russian Consulate
The smug grins and whispers in a barely known language
And then there was ink on paper and I could go
Back to Moscow again

(c) 2007 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy

"Never There Paul, Never There"

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Never There Paul, Never There

It was the stuff of legends at 12 years.
I was short. I was skinny. I was not what you would call a fighter.
I never wanted to disappoint my parents with a schoolyard brawl.
So I turned the other cheek, I always walked away.
Until that day, a day that was almost over.
Last class, physical education down on Ford Field.
We were playing flag football on those fertile grounds.
It was time to head back to the school.
I was turning to go and there he was, football in hand.
Paul. He made a joke and showed me the football.
I don't remember anything after that.
Until I came to in a blurry rage, sitting on top of Paul.
Fists flying.
On Paul's face and body.
My friends told me they looked back and there I was.
On top of the bully Paul.
Paul had thrown the ball.
Paul had thrown the ball at my 12 year old family jewels.
I guess I had had enough.
I knew then my parents wouldn't really be disappointed.
I remember my friends faces clearly.
Mouths open, eyes staring.
Not the same skinny kid.
Never there Paul, never there.

(c) 2007 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy

"Requiem: Death is a Friend to Some"

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Requiem: Death is a Friend to Some

Rock, gravel, dirt, sand, sweat
A hole in the ground we met
You acquiesed
You travelled
See the milky white way
See the red road
Leave the human tide
Brother by my side
You move past
We move past
We shall love at last

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (9 Aug)

"Death is a Friend to Some"

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Death is a Friend to Some

Death is friend to some
He comes welcomed
He comes a saviour
Perhaps he will be my friend
Now he is merely the taker
He may be wished for
I only feel more pain for them
All who are unprepared for the journey
I am powerless to this force
I watch as he comes for his next visit
We are all so unhappy
That is our human state
But death comes as a friend to some

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (2 Aug - for my brother Kermit Red Dog)

"Meet at the Car Wash"

----

Meet at the Car Wash

One man, one woman
Once husband, once wife
Two vans, open hands
Open hearts, closed minds
An exchange of life
He clings to her
He reaches out
He cries, they part
He cries, they wait
He cries, they hesitate
Two lives, he cries
One family, once family
Family still
They part at last
For today, at the car wash

(c) 2008 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (12 Sep)

"The Cheyenne River Youth Project and the Grinch Who Brought Christmas (and a whole lot more)"

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The Cheyenne River Youth Project and the Grinch Who Brought Christmas (and a whole lot more)
By Stewart Sarkozy-Banoczy
(originally published in Native Legacy magazine, Summer 2008 - http://www.nativelegacymag.com/crst.html)

Let me start with a short story. I am the Grinch. Or I was.

That is, I have had the pleasure of playing that reformed Whoville Christmas thief for the benefit of others. The others being: the children of the Cheyenne River Youth Project (CRYP), in the midst of Christmas celebrations.

I somehow found myself volunteering to the play the Grinch during our annual Christmas party eight or nine years ago. It was humbling.

The costume, including a full plastic head mask, was hot, hilarious and difficult to see out of. The kids of all sizes got to choose the Grinch or Santa to tell their Christmas wishes to and I was quite surprised how popular the Grinch was. I began to feel more dignified playing Santa’s less popular sidekick.

Then at some point during the festivities, Santa (played by Mike Kennedy, another local volunteer) decided that all the children present should be told to teach the Grinch a lesson for trying to steal Christmas. This Grinch, my Grinch. You know this is not going to be pretty.
Picture a six foot, one-inch Grinch, with a full set of red pajamas, boots and an oversized Grinch head running for his life out of the building, down Main Street, around the block, with a pack of high-minded children, prepared for vengeance. We were not in Whoville anymore. Needless to say, I put some distance between my Grinch self and the kids. I then pitched the mask and pajamas and cowered back in the kitchen for most of the evening while the rest of the presents were handed out and we all ate. I still have nightmares.

But would I do it again? Of course. And I have. It is for the kids. As a long-time volunteer, fan, and for the past few years, board of directors member of CRYP, (also known locally as ‘The Main’ for its original location in an old bar on main street in Eagle Butte), these are the kinds of events that bring people together again and again.

CRYP is famous for events that touch the lives of children in more positive ways than can sometimes be accounted for. Grinch beatings aside, CRYP has changed the fabric of life in Eagle Butte and the Cheyenne River Reservation. As the 20th anniversary approaches I think about all the hundreds and thousands of small memories, stories and life-altering moments that have occurred because of this stable, dynamic organization.

From those humble beginnings on Main Street and in the mind and heart of founder and current Executive Director, Julie Garreau, CRYP has blossomed into a powerhouse of programming for the youth of Eagle Butte and the Cheyenne River Reservation.

From the day-to-day offerings for younger children like reading, arts and after school activities, to the newly completed teen center, CRYP continues to nurture the lives of young people of the reservation. One week it might be midnight basketball or a camping trip, the next it might be passion for fashion, work in the garden or courses at the “Main University”.

When I remember helping move boxes around the dark, damp areas of the old bar that was the first home for CRYP, it is hard to believe how much it has grown and changed.

The first major step was the new building for “the Main” christened as the Billy Mills Youth Center, located up by the Elderly Nutrition and the community garden. It is here that those first new blossoms appeared.

The new building offered expanded kitchens, art/workrooms, library/reading room, and a place to actually have volunteer quarters and offices. I remember thinking how huge it all looked. And the kids thought so too. After school, weekend and summer activities exploded at the new site. And yet, there was something missing.

For years, the teens had been saying they needed a place of their own. CRYP listened. With direct input from teenagers in Eagle Butte and surrounding communities, the awe inspiring Cokata Wiconi Teen Center came to be. Now there truly is “something for everyone” – from a full gym, internet café, dance studio and art room, to a library, computer room and gift shop – next to nothing on the wish list for the teens was left off.

This new building is truly theirs by design. There is a weight room, full locker rooms, professional kitchen, volunteer quarters, meeting rooms and more to round out the ability to serve the teens of the reservation. With input from elders and teens alike, a Cheyenne River history wall has been formed. Down the long center hallway, with walls curved and tiles colored to represent the flow of Wakpa Waste, the Cheyenne River, teens and visitors can follow the story of the Four Bands of the Cheyenne River Lakota and their relations from the beginning of time to the modern era. This is a new home for teenagers – a home they helped create.

As funds and staffing allow, CRYP will expand the activities at the Billy Mills Youth Center and the Cokata Wiconi Teen Center. They will continue to run the two youth centers, the community garden and all the family and youth programs and services. Familiar activities will continue, like the Christmas Toy Drive and Delivery, Teen Night, Main University, Literacy, College Night, the Children’s Garden, etc. New to the mix this summer are paid internships in the areas of social entrepreneurship, mental health, wellness, arts, literacy and sustainable development as part of the new Power of Four Program.

CRYP continues to seek out new and exciting ways to have a positive presence in the lives of youth and I can only imagine what that next step might be.

Back to the Grinch for a moment. Like many tellers of tales, I like to start with something unique or humorous to drive home a point or get the reader’s attention. I hope it did that and I guess if you are reading this, you made it through the whole article without too much suffering. My Grinch story has a serious side though too. I may joke about my escapades (and eventual escape) from the kids, but what lives on in my mind’s eye is the love and happiness in the faces of those children – from the smallest toddler with wonder in her eyes at the site of Santa, to the curious and mischievous ten year old staring at the Grinch. Like so many other activities of the Cheyenne River Youth Project, that Christmas party with the presents, games and food, offered something positive (and potentially life-changing) to children and families of Eagle Butte and the reservation.

There’s a Grinch costume waiting for all of us.

"Goldilocks"

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Goldilocks

I stopped to see the treasures laid carefully beside the road,
Waiting for their untimely and inelegant removal from their abode.

A child's pretty wooden chair looked like new,
But actually had its seat smashed through.

I thought that particularly sad as I climbed back behind the wheel,
And wondered how it happened, headed for our meal.

As I pulled away from there, my daughter asked why I left the pretty chair.
I told her about the broken seat and she puzzled there thinking deep.

At last she said in her most serious tone, it must have been the fault of Goldilocks alone...
Poor baby bear, I bet she misses her chair.

(c) S. Sarkozy-Banoczy, 2008