Tag Archive: life


The Painful Still

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Nike – Winged Goddess of Victory Weathervane*

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A half-mile between now and then the future stands still.

Dream in a vortex—

Screams at the wind: west or east, come true!

 

Awaiting a perfect storm, to know, jump into…

 

Please?

 

Morning’s medium roast should percolate circumstance—sunshine-bliss,

and a front porch made from the intellect of trees.

 

Conquer circuitous shackles.

 

Prepare sweet lemon-sugar to awaken the tongue’s lifeless universe.

 

For there, leaning on the fence, willingly in anticipation:

The soul of a yellow bicycle;

 

feminine wisps-of-straw-weaved-basket,

brimming with wild flowers, and fresh corn of summer.

 

I can be butter and herbs

Sail effortlessly on wheels.

 

No more weathervane captive by nature, deprived of a say in which way to go.

 

That agony standing still—in hope of—

staggering!

 

Life—generous soil—be willing

Produce cups over-filled,

before we become worms that feed it!

 

I beg an exit to the left, from a mind that aught to be placed in a planter, grow thoughts of bitter-green-fear for birds, and insects to digest.

 

The heart—she is country without boarders.

 

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2017 All Rights Reserved

*From Westcoastweathervanes .com -“In Greek mythology, Nike personified victory, and was also known as the Winged Goddess of Victory. Her Roman equivalent was Victoria. She is the goddess of strength, speed, and victory and was a very close acquaintance of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Justice. It is thought that Nike stood in Athena’s outstretched hand in the statue of Athena located in the Parthenon. Nike is one of the most commonly portrayed figures on Greek coins and her aforementioned association with strength, speed and victory has made her a well-known athletic logo.”

 

 

Sum of Pieces

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The computation of pieces together and undone,

find sustainable consequence.

This palpable heart—thinking…

Yet, no more or less important than the caterpillar.

Been searching

the beauty in what breaks-apart:

glass, world, stories, images in a kaleidoscope…

Always imagining the dynamics, as a whole, being perfectly suitable.

The focus predominantly on gathering-up,

reassembling what was…

Meanwhile, the fuzzy yellow creature without a spine,

slinks the bark of a tree, and I’m not sure that he thinks,

especially of me.

I ask, is it not the most frightening thing to find

your foundation is quicksand?

Take life—It has infinite possibilities in which to crumble.

I have seen the fragments, rolling frantically like marbles, those lovely,

equivocal streaks of color speeding towards chaos!

As I now pause,

learn to embrace the inevitable impact, allow for the parting of ways;

Fall-apart,

and in-love with the immense offerings presented by the indefinite.

The continuous evolution becoming-one with breaking-to-bits.

Each particle: a new universe,

eye for seeing death as its rightful birth.

Journeying the sum of something—with or without meaning—a part.

(Reflection in a still river questions, “What is tangible?”)

In the beginning is God—

We, the caterpillar and I, you, the sun, a rose…

are in the intentions.

Acceptance

the peace within pieces.

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2017 All Rights Reserved

Paper and Tree

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The paper and tree—

 

Ink wandering across the page to find meaning,

 

something.

 

White surface dreams wait to become…

 

The peeling bark is old.

 

Roots sewn into history,

try to form a new flower’s purpose.

 

So many seasons of disappointment.

 

Still, a bird upon its branch flies free.

 

The air, sadly in between, wants wings,

 

hope on a breeze.

 

I am—

 

-Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2017 All Rights Reserved

 

God, The Tree, and I

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One— God the tree and I —

Feminine and masculine nature. 

In love become branches, stories…

Honey to the bee.

Sting of death: A sincere part of everything,

mountains, galaxy…

The way it transforms, reestablishes connections.

Earth, flesh, fish in the sea.

Universe – A trunk full of treasure.

God —the wind before the tree:

Color me, please, an orange leaf —

I want to fall into seasons,

veins accelerated with the blood of life,

though never into time’s unending cruelty.

M e m o r y

You in the womb—

Heart beating.

Soil’s rich history, nutrients,

enthusiastically expand our roots.

When I am the bark, hardest on, “Myself,”

forgetting…

Grow a forest inside of my heart.

Remind me I am you,

to be soft sapwood beneath.

Innately understanding generations,

external, internal.

Home to a bird, a squirrel rushing

to safety along my waistline.

Let it all be a rainstorm. Stars.

Grass green with wisdom beneath.

I am all of these things…

Gravity’s soul – A blossom

Crown sturdy upon her head.

Boy taking cover in the shade,

about to climb his destiny.

-Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved


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Here I am—flowing microcosmic energy.

Everything you almost see and feel,

unwittingly.

Your mother first captured it for you,

in a blue sky and floral ensemble.

Your father in the wind, surrounding.

Tenderness brought you here in fields

of Blazing Stars. The grass roots

playfully encouraging your wonder.

Discover:

If the day and its sunshine could sing,

what would it, for you?

 

Love, let it be love.

I do…

In a world so forgetful,

be the air

though unrecognized, faithfully

everything in life.

©2016 Maria DellaPorte All Rights Reserved

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Recently viewing photographs of the famous mosque in Iran,

and considering a question as to what the caption could be…
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My reply:

Light lends us the ability of vision should we choose to open our eyes

and see the beauty of color, and shape of the soul,

otherwise felt flourishing in the heart.

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Yes, color, light, darkness, and the gift of sight (from the soul).

I see in rainbows my friend, I see…

Ominpotent—

The world can be a prism or a prison!

Shhh-Large

—Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2015 All Rights Reserved

(I do not own any rights to the public photographs)

A Bird –

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Today you are a bird—

The thin and crooked smile has disappeared,

replaced by a pointed beak.

It knows…

The trees, they are your home,

and the wind a best friend.

Call on her like magic,

sail with ease into the gap:

No time.

No death.

No broken heart—

Everything found is free,

and crumbs, they are so satisfying.

Thank you!

Though, I’ve no idea who you are?

I merely exist on my own accord,

that I am in fact, a bird:

Nesting.

Searching worms.

Singing—

On a limb and in Heaven…

The air, the air,

is ours to breathe.

God giving life,

or is it I?

Whatever your interpretation,

language…

As long as we are free to fly—

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2014 All Rights Reserved

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Sole Warrior Soul

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When you cannot concede to a path of ordinary,
because your heart believes in the extraordinary.

When you see things in a different light,
hear sounds of a symphony.

Do not struggle to explain the rainbow
to those that
have never seen color,

or expect they’d understand.

You cannot teach purple to the blind,
or a bird’s song to the deaf.

Do not agonize in your solitude,

but rather revel in the awareness —

Trust yourself, what you already know as truth.
Live-up to your standards
(When nobody else will).

For you cannot change anyone,

but the world, yes,
when you stand brave in your convictions.

Sometimes you have to let go of everything,

allow the energy of the world to shift,

grieve it for a fleeting moment, then kiss it goodbye,
—a blessing.

Set yourself free in order to become what you ought to be.

No regrets,
only gratitude,

Each joy and agonizing step

that built you…

A champion heart—

Sole warrior.

Soul.

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2014 All Rights Reserved
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Still Consciousness

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It is not the years that put on age but the predicaments we travel through…the slicing and dicing of our hearts and souls…draw deep lines of regret on our faces and weigh down our breasts in the gravity of despair…adorn you in white turbulence…remove your hair in literal losses…Eventually give-up your mind most willingly, though subconsciously, to dementia, deafness, going blind, because the safe-havens built as the foundation of your life have always been but mere illusion, a formed quicksand.

If everyone remained as his or her innocent child, in his or her natural state of potent life force, birthright, the sunlight in us would never stop enriching each cell with exuberant flow, the bodies we host. The light abounding in the universe would cup us in stunning perfection and peace.

It is when we separate from our Source that we succumb to the cruelties of nature and life outside of ourselves, foreign to our natural state and whither in its grasp. We become the earth in all its beauty and frailty, giving way to changes that are purposeful and significant, if you are a rock or fields of grass, the tide or seasons, but we are not…

We are the stillness of consciousness that never dies and always knows inherently all that is and isn’t present in perfection.

This beautiful lesson here on earth, poignant in pleasure and pain, is magnificent as we leave grateful to have experienced every tingle of emotion. Back to the place we came…we are…and never left…never born and without death.

It is glorious intellect, sensory, source, and movement,

God—

One heart galaxy in love, all there is, ever was…

Being—

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte

© 2014 All Rights Reserved

A Letter

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Dearest Collector of Thoughts –

      Some of us spend a lifetime trying to find the meaning in ourselves, with the hope others, or specifically another, will understand and help us to do the same; to relate to a calling inside for connecting, and bonds that may help to save us on a multitude-of-levels by which we leave the weight of any despair behind.

     Personally, I have come to find this search includes a process of letting-go and forgiving something I am yet to understand. I can only identify with the presence, the thief if you will, that prevents my emerging into brilliance.

     It has come into question in my own belief system, if perhaps some of us were meant to be “only” sensory beings, maybe all of us (though many do not recognize this), here to experience all things earthly, in beauty and pain to which we are foreign, merely to absorb them as knowledge, not that they should become a part of a soul that is already perfect.

     We come here innocent and unbroken without a need for fixing!  Yet we decay to the forces outside of ourselves, to rigid belief systems, to trying to fit into an illusion rather than into our own hearts.

      Born of flesh and vulnerability, the one thing we must rely on is trust, an ethical code. The gentle ones: the small, meek, disabled, animals- are tests to that code of humanity. When any one of us is purposely neglectful or cruel not adhering to the code, they destroy all of us, into bits and pieces of broken humanity that suffer.

     Life has the potential to become a wonder if we accept not being truly attached to it but merely visitors in time and space.  This I believe to be truth that we are educators to each other and students of God.  We own nothing but borrowed time.

     In the end we fight for our last breath rather than easing into it, not because we fear the unknown, pain or any other previously experienced symptom of life (everything having already been out of our control) but because we are saddened to think we may be alone, no longer a part of love…   

     No matter how much suffering there ever was it all becomes glorious to realize we were part of something more extraordinary than ourselves. The relationships we shared…

      Unfortunately for us, the earthly dwellers, this knowledge is too often lost in the time searching, the rearranging of what already flows, rather than acceptance the fight for control, 

     …..and the realization that we have it all comes clear as day, as we go…

     Every musical note you’ve ever heard will tell you so —

     Home, faithfully, home.

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte

Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved