Salvatore Amico Buttaci

Salvatore Amico M. Buttaci is the former Editor of NEW WORLDS UNLIMITED (1974-1988), and of POETIDINGS, the newsletter of the New Jersey Poetry Society, Inc.(1995-1997).
His poems and short stories have recently appeared in poetrymagazine.com, THE MANHATTANITE, APHELION: WEBZINE OF SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY, GREENWICH VILLAGE GAZETTE, NORTH RIVER REVIEW, and OPUS.
A collection of his poetry entitled PROMISING THE MOON is currently available.
He is also preparing his newest book for November release:
A FAMILY OF SICILIANS: STORIES AND POEMS.

Sal is an elementary school English teacher and adjunct professor
at Bergen Commmunity College. He lives in Lodi, NJ, with his wife and
love, Sharon.

  Two of his new books are available: (1) PROMISING THE MOON, a collection of his poetry (softcover, perfect-bound, 100 pages: $8.50 per copy for those who order from this site. (2) A FAMILY OF SICILIANS, a collection of his short stories and poems, all of which have Sicilian/Italian themes (softcover, perfect-bound, 130 pages:   $11.50 per copy.) E-mail sambpoet@ibm.net for an order form. Both books include handling and shipping.

Crimes

Poems are little crimes committed;
at the same time they are confessions
wrung free without harsh interrogations
of rubber hose & blinding light.

Poems are crimes; all poets are convicts
fleeing the oppression of life's responsibilities.
But there is no subterfuge: the doing is the telling;
The crime is the confession.

I knew a poet once who jotted crimes,
who never once raised his head
while all around him
the world was coming to an end.

What he wept was what he wrote:
Every poem a reason for the unreasonable,
his own cryptic undoing,
a telling away of self-incriminations.

OUTSIDE WAR, WEST VIRGINIA

Along Berwind Lake the stretching pines
reflect themselves on a surface of concentric
circles where paddling ducks disturb
the winnows in their underwater
wrigglings. Marveling at nature we
say how all of this will go on.

Without words in this natural place
you and I watch quiet pines poke a
blue sky, and we swear in the twinkling
of our eyes that we too will go on
forever: our love vibrant and green-eternal.

THE ART OF LOVE

with magic markers one night
we practiced the art of love
drawing on each other's body
pictures that danced
in a nighttime flicker
cast by candle glow

and how we laughed
at the two dark angels
flexing their wings on your thighs
the red rose blossoming beneath
your throat
its soft petals trembling
as you breathed

the horn of plenty
with arrows pointing
and names claiming
joint partnership
friendship
mostly love

much later on
resting in the peaceful waters
we closed the night
washing away the masks
from our faces
blowing out scented candles
holding on to the magic
of love's fine art:
indelible days and nights in
a shared eternity

THE TRUCE OF NATURE

In the interim between light and dark,
When the truce of nature is a billowing
Flag of grey-clouded dusk, the technicolor
Of this November creation drains away
Into a monochrome still life.

Then nighttime ticks towards its proper
First moments: All sky and forest creatures
In synchronized heartbeat hesitate in
A pretense of communal death.

From day-long camouflage to nighttime
Revelation, stars shine light years away
While a saffron moon-- pockmarked, arrogant--
Dominates the evening sky.

Everywhere the plushness of living things
Pays a nightly tribute of bated breath.

SORCERY

This is the green we dreamed of yesterday,
One more April rebirth with red sun crashing
Like a wrecking ball atop purple hillsides
Sparking flakes of fire.
Down below, alongside Highway 23,
The neon sign of Hobart's Café blinks

A short-changed welcome three letters shy
While you sit inside at the only table,
One hand against a steaming cup of latte,
The other absently drumming
A red-checkered tablecloth creased and worn.
Jim Hobart says he'll keep an eye out for your bus.

Meanwhile, across town, in an empty house, if I
Could somehow through some April sleight of heart,
Interrupt your sadness, catapult myself
Into your Friday reverie, I swear this much:
I would conjure up a magic spell
To charm spring and you into staying here forever.

A FAMILY OF SICILIANS: STORIES AND POEMS.
perfect-bound, softcover, 152 pages, 5 1/2 X 8 1/2;
ISBN ISBN 0-917398-21-1.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 98-96208
PRICE: If ordered before December 1998: $10.95 plus $3.00 handling and
shipping.
After December: $12.95 plus $3.00 handling and shipping.


Buttaci writes: "My book is more than a collection of my stories and
poems that make readers laugh and cry. It is a positive statement about
Sicilian-Americans to offset the typical "mobster" stereotype given by
the media. It's my attempt to make Sicilian-Americans proud of their
heritage and non-Sicilian-Americans open to a more honest picture of
us."

In his book, READ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN

crazy old Uncle Tanoots works his best miracle since healing four sick
pigs in San Cataldo, Sicily...
a spirit from the next world visits Grandma and asks her to help
save a life...
a Sicilian nobleman marches off to war, leaving behind his wife and her
two sisters walled up safely in his castle tower...
Grandpa asks his brother-in-law Vincinzu to get his donkey back...
a man accused of murder hires a lawyer who has nothing to say...
a Sicilian bricklayer comes back from the dead to appear live on the
Jay Leno Show with a message for the world...
the author interviews the real Archimedes whom he has tracked down on
the Internet...
a ten-year-old boy in 1900 time travels to a Benito Mussolini rally
in 1922...

AND MORE!


A sample short story from Buttaci's book:


        NOBODY EVER CAME BACK...
                    EXCEPT PETRU SALAMONE

Will appear soon in The Manhattanite !     Be certain to look for
this short story by Salvatore Amico M. Buttaci !