House of the Tomato

If a woman wants to be a poet, she must dwell in the house of the tomato. -- Erica Jong

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GREEN BAY / NORTHEAST

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Poetry Reading

CHILDHOOD & OTHER TALES

Featuring Mark Falcone

Mark Falcone

Mark Falcone

Mark is a native of Philadelphia’s Little Italy. He presently lives in De Pere. Mark has poetry published in numerous Poetry Anthologies. His first published poetry book is Fiery Mouthed Dragon published by Dorrance & Co., Philadelphia, in 1975 and Experience the Doorway to Life 2016 and Childhood and Other Tales 2017 also self-published. While living in Baltimore he founded a poetry club for local poets teaching members to write in various forms and critiquing poetry of club members. He has had Poetry readings in Philadelphia and Vicinity for other poets and journalist. He also had a poetry club in De Pere giving readings at St. Norbert Abbey and the De Pere Library. He is also a member of the Academy of American Poets which helps upcoming poets to get their works published. He has been recognized by the Academy of American poets as a contributor to fostering contemporary poetry. He has put some poetry of his own and that of Emily Dickenson to music. He is a composer of classical music, a photographer with a National Geographic web site of his photos. His music can be found on YouTube.

Sample Poem

Savior
When I was just 11 years old our next door neighbor
who was married three times
and had 5 or 6 children by each marriage
had a birthday party and all of his
children and grandchildren came.
It was a great mob of people.

In a small city street and small city house the
house overflowed with people many
were children.

The party was over and everyone was leaving, when
one couple were captured by great fear, anxiety and
trembling. They could not find one of their
children. Looking everywhere he could not
be
found.

A powerful feeling came over me that forced
me to go on a search. Looking for him was
like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Some power just pulled me into a search.
After almost an hour of searching
I was exhausted, but continued the search.

Finally I saw the little child and worked my
way to him and was hoping he
would not be afraid and run away from me.
When I reached him he did not run.
Grabbing him by the hand
I proceeded to return him to his parents.
I was this boy’s savior.

However there are no prophecies about
my coming, nor recored history about
my living.
I guess none of that is necessary to be
a
Savior.

Earlier Event: February 22
Poetry Reading
Later Event: April 19
Poetry Reading

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