Winter 2023 Collection

Nicholas Cerullo Piliero



Nick Cerullo Piliero.

I was born and raised in the Bronx and Westchester, New York.
As of 2021 I am 75 years young. I have 2 boys 20 and 22.
I’ve lived in Vermont for the past 30 years.

I am self-taught, and through a death experience I had some years ago [1969] I came to paint.
I can’t explain it. I don’t try I just know I am doing what I was born to do here.

My boys inspire me and help me to stay in the moment.

I see, I feel, I paint.
COLORS are my thing.

I believe there is power and magic in color!
I have sold numerous paintings all over the world.

I’ve been in NYC galleries, won stuff, and all that but it is always about my painting that I care.

Never about money or that other stuff.
I never, never have sales in mind when I paint.

I keep my prices down so most people can afford to have an original.
I also donate paintings to the schools and places in my town.
I was a human services worker, working with delinquent teens.
I was one of them in my youth, so it was the perfect job for me!

Inner peace & quiet mind to you!
It is in the journey not the destination!

Keep happy Nick.



Book of Secrets

This painting is a visual of my quest.

Magic is like faith, it has no logic it just works, but you must have the key to unlock the secrets.

That key is BELIEF, seeing is believing but believing is SEEING!


My experience with this has enhanced my faith in it.

I believe in me there resides a little old sage who has all the answers I want.

But sometimes the answer is “Nick, you will not understand it now”.

I found the secret of life is I cannot tell you; you must experience for yourself.

Through the years I have chased wisdom like a butterfly.

I must be quiet and still, for it come.


My ego seems to get in my way, I cannot turn it off, it’s in me. What I can do is practice humility.

I learned to ride a bike, certain things must be practiced, or I will never completely conquer them.

In the painting I put him in the woods, I believe nature has all the answers if I just be still and observe.


So much of what we look for are in plain sight.

But we go through life at 75 mph and miss many, many things.


One day I was riding with my friend.

I asked him “how many signs have we passed in the last 2 minutes?” He said, “I don’t know.”

We’re so busy, always in a hurry, we don’t see or pay attention to the signs right in front of us.


When I paint, I’m by myself, inside my head. It’s like therapy.

I see in paint what is going on in my life.

But I must be observant to see it.

And where it must be changed, I must believe I can.

I would much rather have wisdom than loads of money!

My grandmother would say, “Nico hurry, slowly”.

16″-20″ acrylic on canvas board

April Rose

A rose that will never wilt or need to be watered.

O! be some other name:

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet:

William Shakespeare “Romeo & Juliet”

A rose is a rose by any other name!



There are those who only feel the thorns and not the beauty of a rose.

A rose reminds me of this and reminds me to keep a positive attitude.

To me the rose is a symbol of life, life that can be only as good as I make it.


Whenever I paint flowers, the magic of nature springs forth; comes to mind.

Roses last but a short while; to fade, fall, to die, too bloom again in the coming spring.

Existence, life, the mystery surrounds us all; look, take time and smell the roses!

There’s a mystery to be revealed within the rose:

Revealed for those who grow, flower and blossom, like the rose.

30″-48″ stretched canvas acrylic

New York Abstract

“New York Abstract” as a painting I completed while I still living in NY.

I had not been painting for more than 2 years.

Abstracts are not as easy as people would think, and this one just came to me.


When I paint abstracts, they come from a place deep within me.

A place of pure feeling and creativity.

All paintings I do have a feeling and a message. Some more so than others.

Like I have said before many of my works are to bring happiness to people.

I do this with color and subject.

I’ve found color has a magic that can change a person’s mood in a heartbeat.


Back to this painting it is one of the largest I have ever done.

I was ready to move from NY, a place I had spent my whole life.

To Vermont A place I knew nothing about.

Plus, I had been on the methadone program since 1970 and now it was 1991.

They had no program at the time in VT.

So that played a large part to the feeling expressed in this work of art.

Having to get off methadone after so many years I was told that it was near impossible.

I said I will or die trying. And I did, I was drug free for 7 or so years.

NY Nick was dying so to speak, and a new VT nick was coming to be.


The angel type figures in the art are me flying into a new phase of my life.

Closing one door and opening another.

It has great energy, movement, and power.

I’ve kept this painting and it is not for sale.

There are several works that are milestones in my life as an artist.

And when I look at this work It all comes back to me.

I Miss You Neil

I have four younger brothers.

Some years ago, my brother Neil died of cancer.

I felt a deep sorrow.


I handle grief by painting. When Neil died, I felt so helpless.

He was my younger brother who I always protected, yet there was nothing I could do.

I remember my gram saying “Nicko, death is for the living”, I now understand this.


From my own death experience, it was shown to me, we all come here to learn and help.

And when we are done that is when we leave, still the human part of me feels sorrow.

So, when Neil passed, I grabbed a canvas and started to paint.


I have four younger brothers.

Some years ago, my brother Neil died of cancer.

I felt a deep sorrow.


I handle grief by painting. When Neil died, I felt so helpless.

He was my younger brother who I always protected, yet there was nothing I could do.

I remember my gram saying “Nicko, death is for the living”, I now understand this.


From my own death experience, it was shown to me, we all come here to learn and help.

And when we are done that is when we leave, still the human part of me feels sorrow.

So, when Neil passed, I grabbed a canvas and started to paint.

Magic Kitchen #32

This is one of the kitchen series that I semi-abstracted.

Putting a landscape on a shelf and a door on the flower vase.

With sunflowers in the center of the painting.


I’ve worked with Children, especially troubled children.

I’d explain, when you do art, it is your world.

You can put anything in your world you want; it’s your world.


Children are taught to conform to rules.

We must also teach them to use their imagination.


I want to let them know “this is your world”. The art, you create is your vision.

If you want to make hamburgers purple, blue or any color, you can!


It is the one place you’re allowed to create anything what you want.

No one can say to you are wrong.

There is a freedom that comes with drawing, painting, or any art.


My cousin Joe says, “Art is the vision of seeing the invisible “

It is an inner world of your soul!

Witch of a Woman

I am self-taught and this was my 1st real try at creating a painting.


Beginning in 1971, I just did pen and ink black and white drawings with ink and markers.


After a near death experience, while on vacation in Cape Cod, at a flea market,

my 2nd wife said to me “Why don’t you buy some paints and try painting.”


That was in the 1980ies and the start of my painting career.


Rather than using a brush I used a brush-like pen.

As I progressed, I taught myself how to blend and work with paint.

When a person sees one of my paintings, they do not have to see the signature they know it is a Piliero.

I have developed my own unique style.


My family would say “You no make ah-da money”. But I’ve paid my dues and I do “make ah-da money”.


But it is never about the $ with my art it is about the feeling that comes out of a small place inside me. If I do not go within, I go without!

Dog Playing with Shoe

Dog playing with shoe.

Flowers for Gaza

I feel so helpless watching all the pain and madness that permeates the news.

When I did this painting, I felt it was alI I could do to document what went on there.


My flowers are the painting. I felt her sadness so deeply. It seems the world is going completely mad!

Yet there are many beautiful things that go on each day that are never in the news.

It is said, if you want to change the world change yourself.


My paintings try to tell a story, to show feelings.

I do many different types of paintings, some are pretty, some show friends others all aspects of life.

The paintings done from a place deep within me are some of my best works.


I’m told my work brings a sense of joy and happiness despite the subject.

I do a fairy tale series that takes me back to my childhood, when my mother would read to me.

The world was so simple then. I remember when she did housework, no matter how tired, she’d sing.


Now that I’ve come to the Autumn of my life, things are quite different.

I seem to want to paint 24 hours a day. But I must find balance, too much of anything is not good.

I never run out of things to paint, many ideas go thru my head, but I only pick the ones that stand out.

I’m learning what is important.


It seems things that once were so important don’t seem to matter anymore.

When I was about 20, I cut off an old guy who was trying to get to an open parking space.

He looked at me and said, “youth is wasted on the young.”


The funny thing is many years later a young kid cut me off to get to a parking space.

He looked at me and I just laughed. You’re a crazy old man he said, I said yep!

There is a small voice within me that directs me.

When I follow that voice, all is well.

When I don’t, look out!

An interesting story how this painting came about.

The Dream

One night I awoke to find a large Siamese cat on my bed!

I said ” What are you doing here? He said Nick this is a dream, I said it is so real!

I got out of bed and opened my apartment door and there were trees and a forest outside my door?

I said to the cat if this is a dream, I’m going to jump out my window, I’m on the 5th floor.

So, I opened the window and jumped out I said I sure hope this is really a dream!

I started to fly all around my town it was wonderful!

But something woke me up and I was back in my bed the cat gone!

That day I grabbed a canvas and painted me flying around town,

I painted a city for I’m more comfortable with a city!

It is as if a FORCE within and outside of me has come to a place of harmony.

Old Dude

Old Dude…

This was done with Matisse in mind.

I love his art the color, form, and simplicity.

Using a long stick with a brush fastened he painted from his bed.

He painted right up to the last.


The artist of that day was not afraid to paint what they felt.

From them I have learned to paint from my heart not my head, for my brain is not me.

My best work comes when painting without thought.

Just let the brush freely translate what’s in my heart.


Every painting I do does not belong to me.

it was painted for whom every comes to claim it.

Some artists have a tough time parting with paintings.

To me I am just the person who paints the picture.


I believe each painting is done for a certain person to brighten their life a little.

Like I said it was painted for them, I believe that is just what my heart tells me.


Occasionally a person will see a painting that moves them but cannot afford it.

I will sell it for whatever they can offer or just give it to them.

My hope is that my art will bring some small happiness into the world.


I never think about money when I paint.

Somehow, I always get what I need; thank goodness not what I want!


I feel one of my missions in life is to bring color and joy into the world.

The second photo was taken in my studio.

You can see photos on the wall of images I work from for some of my paintings.

Bronx Greens Stand

Painting this NYC series is bringing back a flood of memories mostly great ones!

When I was a kid, we often walked to my grandmother’s house on 221st from Gun Hill Road.

It was about 20 short blocks under the EL.


The Bronx had a different type than Manhattan.

When walking under the EL as the train passed the noise was deafening the energy was overwhelming.

Like I had said the energy was pulsating thru the sidewalk.


I was walking with my mom and brother Vinny from the time I was a few months old to 7 or 8 years old.

And the guy’s “vendors” would give me string beans and all sorts of fruit.

Great memories.


Everything was magic.

The street was alive with all sorts of people going here and there, car horns, bus, and truck fumes.

It all fit together like a grand symphony!


If we were lucky my mom would take us in the five and dime store for a small toy.

We never had much money and how my mom did it all was a miracle!

My father was spending large amounts playing the numbers.

He hit quite often but put it right back into gambling?


My poor mom had a rough life in Connecticut where my grandparents settled.

She was made fun of Italian was all that was spoken at home, so she had to learn English in school.


The “NYC Energy” series is painted very loose and free.

I love the feeling when I paint this way.


My hope is to transfer my feeling of energy into the art.

It’s strange this getting old thing. Watching and feeling my body starting to shut down.

But as my body weakens my spirit seems to gain strength.

This painting is close to my heart.

As a child the Bronx NYC was a very magic place.

I saw this photo in National Geographic, and it caught my attention.

The EL trains above the avenue, the small shops along the street under the EL

It all had a magic I guess enhanced by childhood.

The Last Brownstone

The Bronx of my childhood was Italian and had the flavor of the old country.

The neighborhood was always kept clean by old Italian ladies who swept the street where they lived.

It saddens me to see it destroyed by drugs, fire and people who just don’t care.

I guess nothing stays the same; change is the way of life.


As a kid I spent my summers at my uncle Mike’s in Penn.

My cousins lived all over the north-east Bronx and we visited them all the time.

Uncle Mike was a doctor. He delivered my four Brothers.

He was married to my father’s older sister Ann.


Their home was deep in the woods.

It took 25 minutes to get to the house.

The driveway was just made of dirt and rock.

No running water, phone, or electric and it had an outhouse.


Every summer when I came home from Uncle Mikes’ my neighborhood changed.

Where there was a lot on the corner that was now a drug store.

Seems every year another lot was gone, and a building was there.


We moved to the suburbs NY when I was 10 or 11, I think.

But slowly the Bronx changed like everything else, only not for the good.

I still have great memories of it from my childhood and often draw on it for my paintings.

This lone Brownstone is the last holdout of that magic time.

Now it just lives in my mind, the Bronx of old.


This is from my composer series, years ago in NYC they wanted artist to do one subject like just landscapes, portraits, or any group of paintings that were all the same subject.


I cannot do that and will not do that. It is too boring painting just one subject, that is why I seem to do series I paint 8 to 12 or so then onto the next subject.


With this composer series, I loved the way they turned out. Sort of simple but great form and color. Some paintings seem to paint themselves. There is little thought involved.

These are the best paintings sort of just let the brush go where it wants with little thought.

Too Much Color

I’ve done a series of famous artists and what I thought their reaction would be to me.

I think “Rembrandt” or “Remmy” would say “Nick, there’s too much color in your art, it’s too vibrant. This is a prime example how art can be so different but the same.


When I paint, I paint the way I see the world as I guess most artist do.

In that place I’ve often said, “There are artists deep within me, whose paintings pass through me every second”. I must choose which to bring to life.”


I have a friend who’s a logger, every time he sees a tree, he sees money!

Every time I see things, I see a painting.


My friend Jim De Carlo’s father who drew Archie comics once said to me “when a person sees one of your works even without the signature they know it is a Piliero.”

You have a unique style that is all your own. That is the sign of a great artist.


When someone sees a Vincent Van Gogh, they know it is a Van Gogh, a Picasso, or a Rembrandt. They just know who the artist is. So, whether an artist paints light and shadow or the contrast of light they have a purpose and style.


I see things as forms and color and how they fit together, sort of like a puzzle.

I’m not sure if any of this makes sense but it is how I see my art and the art of others.

I named the painting Twoolwool was the 2nd Painting I did.

I sold the 1st one at our store a wool store/art gallery.

It was one of the 1st paintings I sold in VT.

And in fact, one of the 1st paintings I ever sold.


Yes, the Native Americans are “The Real Americans”

Since then, I have done similar type paintings but those 2 were the best!

The Real American

When I 1st moved to Vermont, I bought a house in Peachum.

This house had a large yard, so I posted an American flag in the yard.


One day I was outside painting.

I had painted a Native American, but I could not put a face to it.

It was a beautiful sunny, calm spring day. I said “Great Spirit give me a face!

Just then the wind picked up and blew the American flag off its mount.


It landed on my head!

It was one of those twilight zone moments!

I looked at the painting and painted an American flag on the face!

Oh, Ugly Death / Oh, Joyful Death

vOz 02.02.24

Trust not what you know, know what you trust!

Oh, ugly death, have you no remorse / Arrow’s straight, into its heartless course.
All want to drink from the victory cup / Defeat the feast, prey on the meat.
War is the province of guile and shame / Land of the lost, place of the slain.

Oh, beautiful truth, mystery mistress / Thy visage tempts, mortal souls.
Approving smile, comforting repose / Opens gates all fear too go.
In part or in-whole, what of, of / Tis not love the key, which unlocks the door.

Oh, timeless eternity, is there a course? / Moment, to moment, silent stillness moored.
Boundless infinity, tied in tides / Particles and waves, still-motion reside.
Here and there, there, and here / Infinite vastness, found in the mirror.

When is the when, when is the how? / Tight thy grip, which loosens thy brow.
Fixed in the moment, time no more / Tranquil perpetuity, forever now.
Light and Darkness, one in the same / Both thy master, beginning to end.

Oh, joyful death, whose victory has won / Rejoice in thy coming, anew reclaimed.
Circle complete, cycle restored / Puzzled bewildered, cheered, and mourned.
Victory in life, Victory in death / All to be claimed, all the same…

The Best Meal

vOz / All Rights Reserved 2017


SCENE 1 / The Statue

A priest and young girl silently watch as workers prepare to place a statue honoring the Blessed Mother.


The priest looks at the girl, the girl at him. Turning toward the statute the priest bows his head and prays.


PRIEST: O Holy Father; thy forgiveness is our salvation, by grace of the Blessed Mother; grant us mercy for our sins; feed those who need be fed, fill those who whose emptiness makes them bitter, and bless our humble Master for his generosity with this wonderful gift honoring the Blessed Mother. Amen



SCENE 2 / Venzenita Home

Nearby “Bonita” pleads with her husband “Enrico” to stay home.


BONITA: Must you go, I plead with you Enrico; you’re ill; no one will miss you.


ENRICO: Bonita; It’s my duty, my life, my honor.

Besides, (emphatically pointing his finger upwards) no one can cook the meal like I!


BONITA: (Gently) Enrico; will people miss the meal if you don’t prepare it?


ENRICO: No… just the best!


BONITA: Deus; forgive him… (Looking to the ceiling she crossing herself)

(Exasperated Looking back to Enrico)

You’re too proud; people survive without your cooking, and will continue when you no longer cook…

(Pleading) What is a day?


ENRICO: (Extremely bothered) What is a day!

The day Enrico does not his duty, his passion; his love, is a day Enrico will not tolerate!


BONITA: (Firm) You are stubborn as a mule…


ENRICO: (Softly) And you’ve been a kind master to this faithful mule.

But like a mule; (Firm) I must work!



SCENE 3 / Enrico’s Childhood

Enrico Venzenita, (Ven-Zen-Nita) was a master chef. As a young boy, at his mother’s side he learned to cook. With great skill and pride, mother prepared the family meals. It was there Enrico’s most cherished memories were made.


His Mother would say;


MOTHER: “Enrico, the best meal is the meal that feeds the soul”.


She would remind him;


MOTHER: “Respect the blessings of the table, for Deus shows mercy, nourishing all who partake”.


During Enrico’s childhood, the custom was, before a boy earned the right to wear long pants, he must first learn the duties of the house. There was no difference between girls and boys, all must learn to cook, sew and clean.


Throughout his life, Enrico used these lessons with exceptional skill and devotion. Those fortunate to taste the savory meals recognized his talent. He was chosen for a position at the great house, where for many years he prepared feasts of distinction for the master and his guests.



SCENE 4 / Walk to Work

While walking to work, Enrico comes upon the Priest and young girl.


ENRICO: Padre, Deus be with you


PRIEST: And with you Enrico… how is your Bonita?


ENRICO: An Angel when I do as told; (sly) A Devil when I do not!


PRIEST: Be kind Enrico; only Bonita’s enduring patience tolerates your disobedience.


ENRICO: (Head bowed) Forgive me Padre; (looks at the Padre and smiles) you are so right… (They both laugh)


PRIEST: Enrico; I’m taking this poor child to the Master’s house, she has earned the honor to serve the Master and his distinguished guests on this special occasion.


ENRICO: (Enrico looks at the young girl) Dear child, what is your name?


(The girl turns to look at the Priest)


PRIEST: (The Priest speaks for her) Her name is Suzette, she is an orphan and is deaf…

Do not worry; look at her when you speak, she can read your lips.

The Sisters of the Abbey tell me Suzette is very bright and a good worker.

They want to thank the kind master for his generosity and reward Suzette.


(Enrico turns to Suzette, smiles and nods)



SCENE 5 / A Meal Surpassing Any

This day was to be a day of great consequence.


Enrico knowing it’s importance is determined to prepare a meal surpassing any he’d cooked before.


Leaders from all over had been invited. Even the Master’s great rival “Don Cicci” was asked.


All past insults were to be set aside in honor of the Master’s generosity.



SCENE 6 / Don Cicci

Don Cicci was the boyhood rival of the Master, always jealous of his success.


Though possessing much, Don Cicci was never satisfied, demanding absolute recognition for his status as a man of importance.


It was rumored when they were boys, Don Cicci was selected to led the children in singing the Ava Maria.


But a nun overheard Don Cicci bragging to others of his high rank.


She admonished him and instructed the Master to lead the children in the singing.


Don Cicci never forgave the Master for that perceived insult.



SCENE 7 / Alfio

They all arrive at the Master’s house, upon entering the kitchen Enrico is welcomed by his worried sous chef Alfio.


ALFIO: Enrico, Enrico I was worried you would not come… I have been lost without your guidance.


ENRICO: Alfio, it’s ok, I would not let my master or his guests go without, but ah you. You have been a capable pupil and soon, it will come to you to be the maestro of the kitchen. But for now, as always (roll the r’s) “learrrn”!


Enrico instructs as they walk through the kitchen.


ENRICO: Alfio, (pause) Alfio, every detail must be exact.

None less than perfect is required; and expected by our guests.

But most importantly; by us.


ALFIO: Yes Maestro, I understand, I understand.


Stopping at the stove, Enrico watches over a boiling pot. Alfio moves to get a spoon.


ENRICO: Be still; the food will cook on its own; though you must be alert.

Wait and watch; the food likes to cook. (pronounced Kook)

But, if not looked after, will consume all for its own pleasure; leaving none for the guests.

(Loudly) Don’t let it Burnnnn.



SCENE 8 / The Great Hall

The priest and Suzette enter the Great Hall. Activity everywhere, workers scurrying left and right. Signore Bandino “captain of service” is contemplating the seating arrangements. Fretting over where to strategically sit each guest befitting their rank and importance.


The priest takes Suzette to Signore Bandino.


PRIEST: Ciao, I see you are very busy Signore Bandino.


BANDINO: Si Padre; much to do. How may I assist you?


PRIEST: It is I who has come to assist you Signore Bandino. I bring you this child Suzette.

She cannot hear, but is very bright and learns quickly. She wishes to help in anyway.


BANDINO: Yes indeed, there always is a place for those who help.


PRIEST: Then I will leave her to your care.

Just look at her and speak what you need, she will read your lips and do as you say.


The Priest looking at Suzette


PRIEST: My dear child, do as Signore Bandino asks. I will return later to bring you back to the Abbey.


BANDINO: Grazie Padre, I will take great care of your Suzette.


After thanking the priest Signore Bandino spots Alfio coming from the kitchen.


BANDINO: Alfio, Alfio, come here.


BANDINO: This is Suzette. She lives at the abbey and is here to help.

Take her to the kitchen and show her were the table settings are stored.


Turning to Suzette Don Bandino points to the tables. He then tells her to follow Alfio and retrieve the table settings and place them on the tables before the guests arrive.



SCENE 9 / Attendees Arrival

Excitement and joviality abound, as one by one, the guests begin to arrive.


Signore Bandino watches the workers, directing all as they rush to complete tasks.


Aromas fill the hall, escaping the kitchen each time the door opens bringing this or that savory dish to the tables. Enrico, overseeing all, knows this will be his final and “Best Meal” he’s had the privilege to prepare for his Master.



SCENE 10 / Seating of Guests

As guests arrive, a commotion is heard outside the hall. A man nudges his way through the crowd.


DON CICCI: Scusa, scusa.


Don Cicci, impatiently moves through the gathering. He spot’s the Mayor near the front, pushing harder to get to him.


DON CICCI: Out of my way, move; I must get to the front…


He’s about to reach the mayor when suddenly the doors of the Great Hall open.


The mayor and his party enter the Hall leaving Don Cicci in the wake.



SCENE 11 / The Mix-up

While Signore Bandino is busy with the guests, Suzette, notices a table setting is missing.


In the kitchen, Enrico sends Alfio to the hall to see after the food.


Suzette, hurrying to get a table setting enters the kitchen.


Alfio, turning to go to the hall, slams into Suzette, sending her to the floor.


ALFIO: Signorina, Signorina…


Suzette, dazed, catching her breath looks up at Alfio.


Alfio stunned at what just happened, looks directly into her eyes and immediately is smitten.


ALFIO: Are you okay?


Suzette nods yes, Alfio extends his hand to Suzette, she smiles taking his hand.


Once up Suzette continues into the kitchen. Alfio, follows her as she gets the table setting.


Suzette turning to return to the great hall, looks at Alfio, who sheepishly asks.


ALFIO: Ah, may I help you?


Suzette pleased, smiles. Alfio; stung by Cupids arrow, returns her smile.


When looking for Love, Love’s difficult to find.


But when the eye sees, love seizes, love finds, love binds …


As they enter the Great Hall people begin to come in. Don Bandino motions for Suzette to come to him.


Suzette looks at Alfio, hands him the setting and points to the area where it’s to be placed.


Suzette smiles and goes to Don Bandino, Alfio goes to place the setting.



SCENE 12 / The Insult

Once inside the great hall, Don Cicci moves to the tables reserved for prominent guests.


As Don Cicci is about to sit down he is greeted by Signore Bandino.


BANDINO: Good day, may I assist you?




BANDINO: Are you with the Masters family?




BANDINO: Are you one of the Master’s friends?


DON CICCI: “Annoyed” No!


BANDINO: I’m sorry sir, these tables are reserved for family and friends. May I show you another?


Indignant, Don Cicci turns to walk away, when he spots the Mayor speaking to several dignitaries.


As he starts toward the Mayor, Signore Bandino politely says;


BANDINO: Sir, I have just the right table for you; if you please, follow me.


The Mayor then steps up to the podium, Don Cicci thwarted once again, reluctantly follows Signore Bandino.



SCENE 13 / The Blessing

All the guests now seated, the Mayor asks the priest to bless the meal.


MAYOR: Padre would you kindly give the blessing. “The priest Rises”


PRIEST: O Holy Father, may this meal be a blessing for all who hunger. Whose thirst be quenched by grace of the holy spirit. We receive this gift from the Master, whose mercy is great, who teaches; love of thy neighbor, is love of thyself, and so doing is eternal peace; for “the best meal, is the meal that feeds the soul” … Amen



SCENE 14 / The Kitchen

In the kitchen, Enrico oversees every detail. Tasting foods, watching the preparations. All he’s learned as “maestro of the kitchen” he uses to create his grand finale, this glorious masterpiece of a meal.


ENRICO: Exact, exact; we must be exact, measure twice before you cut; watch, be careful.


Enrico knowing this to be his final and “Best Meal” is pleased at what he sees.


Proud of his staff and their efforts, Enrico with great pride says to all.





SCENE 15 / Deus & Diablo

Enrico’s father was a laborer on the master’s land. He came from a poor village where it was claimed, Deus and Diablo never visited. The rumor was, as hard working and virtuous people, their faith and deeds satisfied so much, that Deus was not needed. And due to their poverty and suffering Diablo was pleased, seeing this as a sign of his worldly victory. So, the villagers toiled in humble obscurity praying for the best, knowing the worst.



SCENE 16 / The Walkout

Now seated, Don Cicci, looks around at the gathering and is not pleased, feeling slighted, not to be set at the main table.


While the servers bring food to the tables, Don Cicci notices his placements are not in the correct order. The proper setting should be, fork to the left of the plate, knife to the right and spoon next to the dull side of the knife. In Alfio’s rushed attempt assisting Suzette, he misplaced the fork with the spoon.


Seeing other guest’s table settings correctly placed, Don Cicci is further agitated by his perceived ill-treatment.


The mayor rises to give a toast.


THE MAYOR: My Dear Friends, the Master reminds us; To get; we must give…


As the mayor ends his toast, Suzette sets a plate in front of Don Cicci. He calls out to her, but Suzette has turned to attend to the next guest. Enraged, Don Cicci, throws down his napkin, abruptly rises from his chair, bumping into Suzette, spilling a plate of food on another guest as he loudly yells:


DON CICCI: Enough, enough, I’ve had enough…

What a joke; this occasion, this Master, this meal; it is not fit for a dog.


Turning to leave Don Cicci glares menacingly at Suzette frightening her to tears.


Scowling as he rushes out, all in the hall all are stunned.


Hearing the commotion, Alfio runs into the great hall. Seeing Suzette in tears, he rushes to her.


Not understanding what she’d done, Suzette points to the plate set before Don Cicci.


Alfio picks up the plate, puts his arm around her and takes her to the kitchen.



SCENE 17/ Trash Bin

Once in the kitchen the priest takes Suzette from Alfio and exits.


Alfio with the rejected plate of food in hand asks Enrico.


ALFIO: Maestro what should I do with this meal.


Enrico looks at the plate and says;


ENRICO: You heard, Don Cicci; “The tongue has no bones, but breaks many” …


(dispirited in a low voice) Feed it to the dogs.


Alfio, doing as Enrico instructs, puts the food in a bag and takes it to the trash.


While Alfio returns to the kitchen a dog searching for food grabs the bag with his teeth and scampers off.



SCENE 18 / Walk Home

The Priest, Suzette and Enrico dejectedly walk home, stopping at the Statue of the Blessed Mother. The Priest comments how the guests enjoyed the meal.


Priest: The meal was excellent. The guests enjoyed themselves. I overheard several say, the spices were superb.


Enrico: Oh yes, the spices were superb. Padre, do you know what the best spice is?


Priest: Well, I guess it would be to individual taste.


Enrico: No padre; there is one spice that makes any and all food taste good.


Priest: Hum, okay; Tell me Enrico.


Enrico: Hunger.

My mother would say “the best meal is the meal that feeds the soul”.

But one need hunger for more than just the taste of food.

They must give as Deus gave to us; “Respect the blessings of the table, for love, nourishes all”.


The priest understanding what Enrico has said, looks to the statue.


PRIEST: Blessed Maria, comforter of the sick, refuge for the weary. Pray for us sinners in our great time of need and at the hour of our days’ end. Amen


They each make the sign of the cross, and go their ways.



SCENE 19 / Blessed Mother

The night’s moon glows radiantly upon the Blessed Mother.


Behind the statue at her base, an old man sick and weary, lay at rest.


Out of the shadows, through rustling brush, a sack is gently placed beside the old man.


Seeing his faithful friend has brought him a gift, the old man smiles and rubs the pups head.


He opens the sack, to find he has been blessed with a magnificent meal.


Overcome, he looks up to the Blessed Mother; a tear in his eye, the old man reverently bows his head;


OLD MAN: Our Father whom art in Heaven, blessed be thy name…



SCENE 20 / The Lesson

How we live is the measure of our lives.


All People Die; Some at War, Some in Peace…



Truth Lies

Where does Truth lie?
vOz / 07.20.21


Where does Truth lie?


In the mouths of People

In the mouths of Lawyers

In the mouths of Preachers

In the mouths of Teachers


Where does Truth lie?


In the lives of Fathers

In the lives of Mothers

In the lives of Lovers

In the lives of Others


Where does Truth lie?


In the ways of People

In bells and Steeples

In the halls of Power

In today and Tomorrow


Where do you believe TRUTH LIES?

The Waters

vOz / 8.16.18


Waters flow from opposite streams

One from the sky the other the sea


One like rain upon the earth,

The other a river upon the dirt


Together they nourish, flourish and heal

Deserts bloom, gardens revealed


Two flowers, once so far apart

Come together, make one heart


vOz 10/19/01 (revised 12/28/01)


The Innocent

What is it holds     our countenance true

A voice within     firm standing renewed

Speaks like a child     whose purity imbues

Rock solid Sage wisdom     Profound me and you


What is it holds     this with that

Eternal in substance     yet somehow we lack

The distance though short     timeless retracts

Moves forward do we     or only come back


What is it holds     all bind to this rope

Celestial, ceaseless     universal in scope

Bound firm secure     tethered by hope

Faith clings tightly     this heavenly note


What is it holds     these truths to endure

Trust is its mother     belief its procure

Steadfast and loyal     no friend could be truer

Only the wait     patience the doer


Skeptic – Cynic – Pious – Zealot

Cry foul says the skeptic     I’m not convinced

Change is the elixir     that stirs up this mix

I’m not convinced     you know all the tricks

Fools are in all     who fall for this


Aye says the cynic     this does not show

What’s in a future     one cannot hold

To see is the all     all is to see

This is the proof     the proof for me


Blasphemous outrage     the pious reply

On bended knee     pray to the skies

Seek ye forgiveness     this is the all

Thy mercy ask‘eth     or face the fall


Zealots convinced     truths revealed

Fervently passionate     filled with zeal

Justice is dealt     know they the when

Light shines brightly     only on them


The Bold

Onward move forward     those of all faiths

Times a wasting     risks too great

Make up your mind     beat the fall

Delay will you     or answer the call


Blinded by prejudice     those who should know

Difference is all     if all are to grow

Hands held in unison     clinched in a fist

Submission is mercy     pride must resist


All little children     innocent from birth

Know not they     the meaning of earth

Awaits them tomorrow     finds the old

Fair-haired youth     lost as they go


Constancy’s a virtue     the patient possess

The outcome’s whatever     whatever’s correct

All’s required     be true to one’s self

Hold firm to thy course     or chance the else


The Wait

What hold is it     you to me

Cling to each other     confluent are we

Locked tightly     firmly grasp

Every breath     beginning to last


What compels     continuance

Prolongation     persistence

What’s left     what’s more

What’s behind     the hidden door


Weary this life     long though short

The wait is what     why, the for

If you to me     then me to you

Sooner the better     what’s one to do


Bring forth the reason     knowledge withheld

Eagerly await     your answer to tell

Not timid nor anxious     just curious to know

Hostages all     till stiff and cold


vOz 01.06.02 – 01.08.02


Monet left quite an impression

Van Gogh lent us an ear


A Creation Myth
Vasilios W Kapenekas 1/29/02
vOz 07.08.2023
“All Rights Reserved”

Birth, beginning, the creator, innate feminine nature, alone in the universe, finding nothingness her only companion, creates a masculine essence. This incarnate child, nourished by the Goddess, grows in time.

Arriving at the age of wandering, the child strays; his journeys carry him further and further, hidden from her view. Concerned for the child, she empowers him with strength.

As time moves forward, the child grows, his masculinity matures. Content within himself, he freely roams the firmament, choosing solitude for a companion. Once again, returning femininity to her loneliness.

This being the case, Femininity decides to take the form of a girl child. But masculinity not interested ignores her. Seeing this, she gives the child the gift of beauty to attract masculinity. This does arouse a sensation in him. But, in time, he tires and returns to his wandering.

At this, femininity creates pleasure to lure him to her side. This excites masculinity and pleases femininity filling her with joy. But soon after, once again, masculinity escapes to wandering, leaving femininity alone.

Femininity, annoyed with masculinity’s indifference, creates desire. But desire has many masters, and he continues his roaming. This arouses anger in femininity, causing her to call upon pleasure’s twin, “pain,” forcing masculinity to return to her. This, in turn, angers masculinity driving him further away.

Femininity, overwhelmed with grief, at masculinities reaction, discovers tears. Seeing this, masculinity feels pity and returns. But pity being the spawn of misfortune is no comfort to her. Annoyed, he receives femininities scorn. She banishes masculinity from her sight, choosing seclusion as her companion.

As time passes, the girl feels something growing inside her. Not understanding what is occurring, fear appears. Fear is a wily essence, the master of deception. Being alone, confused, and left to fend for herself, she encounters necessity. Continually full of want, necessity compels courage to arise within her.

Courage, a cousin of strength and the offspring of hope, comes to her aid. Confidence is found, and fear is subdued. As seasons change, so does she. Being nature’s beautiful blossom, the girl blooms, transforming herself into a woman.

Meanwhile, while roaming, masculinity comes upon longing and yearns for feminine companionship. Driven by desire, he searches for femininity. He lusts for pleasure and craves for more.

But while searching for femininity, she cannot be found. Masculinity is fraught with anxiety. His thoughts visit loneliness upon him. Loneliness speaks in the language of isolation. He knows of isolation from solitude, and through solitude; he begins to understand what loneliness meant to femininity.

During this time, femininity gives birth to life. She nurtures and imbues her offspring with every essence. However, life’s foil, “death,” is close by, set to pounce upon life given its first opportunity. As death draws near, femininity shouts out for strength. Masculinity hearing her cry comes to her side, startling death, and for the moment dispels this sad fate from her presence.

At this, masculinity, seeing her together with life’s child, feels shame, and shames companion selfishness. Overcome with emotion, he tastes the tears that once washed femininity’s face, and again turns to leave. Femininity thoroughly adored as a woman, growing in wisdom speaks to masculinity saying, “Go,” and when you are ready to give, what you have been given, return. We will await your arrival, knowing you have come of your own accord.

Humbled at her insight, touching every essence of his nature. He willingly returns to her. This is when masculinity was transformed, becoming man.

By femininity’s desire for companionship and masculinity’s want of freedom. It was life that brought woman and man together. United in flesh and spirit an everlasting bond was created. Joined together sealed forever by an ancient truth buried deep within the recesses of human need.

That Truth? Love, the Goddess of Creation

Such a Lofty Lad

vOz / 12.26.21


Such a lofty lad

Clad in hue of blue

Brogue and sound

Cast ere frown

Shine on wee clown


Neer say we

How thus be

Kindly watch

Yee yonder sees

Woe is thee


Written down

Beyond thy gown

Gloom does bloom

Knocks too soon

Come hither dragoon


Play and bay

Tombs of clay

Shadows in gray

Gone the day

Oh, mighty wave


Once the proud

Beyond clouds

Weep for thou

Whimpering crowd

Silence the now


Young child be heave

Too soon to believe

Matched to deceive

Left to bleed

Oaths and creeds


Distant apparition

Eternity bound

Hopes abandoned

New to found

In plowed ground


Haunted forest

Soul’s surround

Forsaken minion

Howling hound

Crows abound


Aimlessly wander

Mired in Sloth

Fog and bog

Clawed and gnawed

Crawl behemoth crawl


Plunge to thy depths

Despair unawares

Questions unanswered

Come hither thy lair

Fools all forever declare

Mother's Love Poem

vOz / 06.13.01


A Mother’s love is like no other

Not a Father, Sister or Brother

Part Teacher Part Preacher

The kind of love that only can reach ya


A Mother’s love can span the oceans

Touch inside to your deepest emotions

Watched you grow up thru the years

Knows your like’s Feels your fears


Picked you up when you had fell

Taught you the first word you learned to spell

Tucked you in every night

Made you say your prayers left on the light


God bless Mothers love


Read you stories wiped your nose

Did without to buy you clothes

Stood beside you Picked up your toys

You were your Mothers pride and joy


When you were sick she kept you warm

Stood beside when you were all alone

There for you right or wrong

Protected you kept you from harm


God bless Mothers love


A Mothers love will not desert you

The kind of love you can always turn to

Never asked for anything

Wanted the best for you that life could bring


One day you’ll find when she has gone

The love you shared was oh so strong


God bless Mothers love


Mother’s love is always with you

Even though she can’t be with you


Cherish Mother’s Love

God bless Mothers love

A Ravaged Heart

vOz / 11.25.22


Oh, sacred heart, I do beseech, from depths within do thee speak

Conflicted far from members reach, thy mine eye in memory keeps


Distance thy constant foe, no seraphim wings have we to go

Yet in my heart do embers glow, open windows to thy soul.


Why, oh why, is such our fate, true faithful hearts be separate

Whose clutches hold so firm, so cold, keep warmth so far from our home


Life so barren, so incomplete, this island desolate and bleak

Forlorn is I so far from thee, oh joyful day yet to be


Yea, yonder, when shall I see the bright light of you so radiantly

Hand in hand, I walk with thee, time no bar, no hold on we


So soon to heaven’s gate Yee go, ravaged hearts left alone

Prayers, unanswered questions concealed, bowed heads, pain, flowing tears, silent reveal


Yet, the bright light of you still I see, within my sight so splendidly

Hand in hand, I walk with thee, time no bar, no hold on we


So, in this time that shall remain, forever I will keep thy name

Tis, love we chose, cherubs embrace, with gentle prayers, devotion, gathered grace

Damaged Lives

vOz / 07.19.04


The trouble we bring, we bring to ourselves

The pain we feel, we feel by ourselves

The lies we tell, we tell to ourselves

The hate we sense, we sense in ourselves


Of my blood, not of my mind

Those we love, share not in kind

Alone in our thoughts, thoughts all alone

Stranded, forsaken, far from home


They who embrace, the abyss,the void

Only hear, a silent noise

Stare into emptiness, ruptured light

A rude reminder, a pale shattered life


Bridge the gap, resolve the breach

Courage, forgiveness, a humble retreat

Hope’s a blessing, a curse yet known

A future, a past, reconciled, alone

Busy Bee

vOz 12.30.18

Busy, busy, is the bee

Busy, busy, as can be

Buzzing, buzzing speedily

To and fro between the leaves


Busy, busy, is the bee

Busy, busy, as can be

Buzzing, buzzing in the air

Honey made with great care


Busy, busy, is the bee

Busy, busy, as can be

To the hive, high in the tree

Home is where the honey be


Busy, busy, is the bee

Busy, busy, as can be

Buzzing, buzzing here and there

Sweetest honey for Momma Bear

Nimble Fawn

Ode to Billy
vOz / 05.14.11


Things go wrong, must be strong, must keep on, things go wrong…

Long the night, fearful fright, dreadful blight, long the night…

Questions linger, point the finger, doubts and stingers, questions linger…

Those remain, game and shame, cast the blame, those remain…

Must move on, nimble fawn, find the dawn, must move on…

Things made right, grit and bite, faithful light, things made right…

Peace / Kyrie Eleison

We Are Either

vOz / 12.11.99

we are either:

taker or giver

leader or follower

believer or skeptic

speaker or listener

innocent or corrupt

investor or borrower

producer or consumer

owner or worker

pro or con

this or that

true or false

lover or hater

me or you


We can be either at anytime

The Death Bed

vOz / 05.23.0


Awake, the death bed

Rise the dust

Finis vita


Life a throne

Death alone

Together sit

Opposites repose


Conjured imagination

Fantasy and flight

Here and now

Day and night


Come see

Seen revealed

Opened and shut

Fate sealed

City Under Siege

Song for Ukraine
vOz / 3.17.22

Oh, dear city under siege, bombs, and death surround

Children cry, Children call, Children crawl, Children cling

Mothers scream, Mothers plead, Mothers bleed, Mothers pray

No tears to wash away the blood, the stains of war remain

Fathers fight with all their might, no match for artillery and tanks

Death from land, sea, and air nowhere safe this man-made hell


Oh, dear city under siege, shattered homes, lives, and peace

Left in ruin, rubbles waste, starvation, disease, the victims’ fate

All Hero’s found this hallowed ground, cathedral of the dead

Stillness comes, thy will be done, buried deep within the shame

Good and Evil side by side, the mirror cracked in two

For what good does evil do, for evil does no good


Oh, dear city under siege, the past is present now

Smoke and fire, hate-filled pyre, soldiers rage, death’s desire

What’s to come, who’s to come, is any left to be

No rhyme, no reason, no answer found, no nothing left to see

Where’s the people, where’s the life, where will children play

What of hope, what of new, what’s to be of me and you


Oh, dear city under siege, fate cast to the wind

Rains will come, to cleanse the air, wash away blood-soaked streets

Time moves on, time renews, days turn into years

As birds do fly, with seasons change, this too will fade away

The ground will heal, the harvests will yield, the future will renew

Why, oh why do we do, as we do?


vOz / 07.01.08

Cognitive Insight is the way

Steer clear impediments that cloud and sway

Inquisitive minds seek and find

Reality as is in space and time


Be wary of facts that puzzle the mind

If not cautious light may blind

Trust is a comfort not a truth

Ask to be shown the meaning of earth


To seek beyond is integrities quest

Fear is an obstacle but wisdom too

Courage is faith something revealed

Must be discovered often concealed


Orthodox is traditional, established, approved

But is it the what, why and sure

I do not deny nor accept

I only ask for enlightenment


You and I are similar in thought

Humble, inquisitive, self-assured, distraught

Certainty is human not ours to divine

Belief, devotion, commitment, sublime


Strength to withstand falsity and truth

Is essential to make way through the loop

Have no assurances I can declare

Ask for the light with minimal glare


Whimsical, serious, hopeful, secure

Whatever will be, will be I’m assured

Our part in the play, is to play our part

We leave the rest to circumstance and smarts


Fate, destiny, fortune and luck

Providences’ domain bestowed upon us

All have their moments, react accordingly

Ask for forgiveness when we do not succeed


Last but first, beginning to end

Answers are questions that return again

Some questions are answers, no resolution found

Truth is a way, reality abounds


Dare to think, not presume

Seek to find, accept and review

Resolve to admit the truths in you

Brave are they who carry on through


My thoughts on eternity are hindered by scope

I have no compass no knowledge no hope

This I will leave to the essence from whence

We arrived and return our only evidence



The Point

vOz / 08.25.10


Piliero’s Dilemma:

How one became two, two became three, three became two, two became one, one became none?

The tale of a point…



In the beginning there was nothing.

Nothing being nothing is itself pointless, a zero.

But a zero being nothing becomes a dot of nothingness



A dot is a kind of point.

The point having no direction

Compels itself to moved forward in search of another.



As the point moved forward it discovers time, but no point.

Having tired the point pauses.

As the point surveys the surface, turning to its surprise it finds a line.



Well, a line is fine but where’s the point?

The perplexed point not knowing a line is confused.



Looking forward not seeing another point, the point shifts direction.

As the point realigns its position, it finds the line is following.

The point again shifts direction only to find in its way the original line.



The point jumps over the line and looking back sees separation, but still no point.

The point is distraught and begins jumping up and down away from the line.



Exhausted the point stops jumping and looks finding several other points.

This pleases the point; not only has it found one point but many other points.



Well, the point moves forward to visit one of the points.

But as they meet the other point disappears.



The point looking around goes to another only for it to disappear as well.

And as the point continues to the remaining points it finds they too disappear as well.



But while all this is occurring something has changed about the point.

Once it arrived at its point of origination, now merged with other points the line is transformed.



Once discovering there is more than one point.

The point now a line becomes a pathway connecting itself to others.

Thus, completing the connection to become a kind of circle.



The point discovered that there is no point only the circle.

And once all points merge with the another’s the line transforms into a circle



One continuous space where point, line and time are joined to become a whole.

Or is it a hole, a space you fall into? Maybe a zero something whose nothing?

Who knows what we become; but we truly are transformed!



Thus, this is how;

One became two, two became three, three became two, two became one, one became none.

The tale of a point…





vOz 02/02/02 revised 02/06/02



Unconscious Primordial Void, whence doth thou came, Absent Birth, Creator less, bound cognizance, lacking singularity, though singular in nature, nature not yet sprung, lacking form having nothingness, from absence; innate singularity springs forth as form, is beginning returned, thus creation reborn?



unconscious void,

formless, empty, absent birth,

creator-less, lacking singularity, singular innate nature,

nature yet sprung, bound cognizance, whence came?

singularity springs forth, form, beginning,




beginning, form, forth springs singularity,

came whence? cognizance bound, sprung yet nature,

nature innate singular, singularity lacking, less-creator,

birth absent, empty, formless,

void unconscious,


I dream I lived forever

vOz / 7.15.99


I dreamed I lived forever

In a place I did not know

A land that was foreign to me

In a place I could not go


To live forever is a dream

Not for mortal souls

Only for a dreamer

Whose faith thee clings and holds

A Dog

Innocence – Arrogance – Betrayal

vOz 01.06.02 – 01.08.02


I passed a dog as I drove

Her gait proud and free

She spied me in an instant flash

Her gaze fixed on me


A look she gave warm and true

To her I was a god

A master worthy of her faith

Her head to me she bowed


As I passed her on this road

I gave but little thought

Her piercing stare stayed with me

The fleeting glance I caught


As I drove, I looked to see

Observed through my rearview mirror

The dog had stopped, raised head in the street

A look she gave, rather queer


For only a moment, I understood

Faithful courage this canine possessed

A fierce loyalty inside her dwelt

Worthy of a God’s respect


Within her world, no question was there

At my sound she would respond

Trust, intuitive in her

She felt I would do her no harm


As to beckon me to her side

This dog began to bark

Looking for her newfound friend

As if I would stop and park


For just this moment, I felt as a god

What a splendid feeling of awe

As another car drew nearer

Dead, was this dog


vOz 10/06/01


Oh, Insignificant One     who hears your cry

Who feels your loneliness     who hears your sigh?

Burdon’s eternal     one waits all ones’ lives

Where is the meaning     what’s the reply


Oh great and powerful     tis there a plan

What is it elevates     the simple to grand

Enriches the soil     this a barren land

Tilled through the centuries     all common in man


Whose visage is it     who’s told cast this mold

The path leads from birth     destination the old

Unseen horizons     no grasp can one hold

Fate casts long shadows     what’s to unfold


Questions have answers     Answers obscure

What is the point     must we demure

One truths eternal     one truths for sure

To live this life     one must endure


I have no relief     for the burdens one bears

I only have thoughts     that don’t always square

To have grand illusions     about what’s up there

Oh Insignificance One     why should I care