Tag Archive: philosophy


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

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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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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

The following excerpt is from, Dan Millman’s, The Peaceful Warrior:  “The universe is, well, there are theories about how it’s shaped…” “That’s not what I asked. Where is it?” “I don’t know–how can I answer that?” “That is the point. You cannot answer it, and you never will. There is no knowing about it. You are ignorant of where the universe is, and thus, where you are. In fact, you have no knowledge of where anything is or of what anything is or how it came to be. Life is a mystery.” “My ignorance is based on this understanding. Your understanding is based on ignorance. This is why I am a humorous fool, and you are a serious jackass.”

And below is a poem of my own from my upcoming book.

(Sometimes “I’m the humorous fool, and other times the serious jackass.”)

     ***********************************************************************

I feel as if I came to earth by accident.

An unfortunate event occurred:

Somehow I was disconnected

from something vaster, universal,

far more intelligent, sensory…

than that of earthly things.

I am an extra sensory being—

That very disconnect,

or floating if you will,

separated, alone –

Is my fear!

I detect the detachment.

On a subconscious level it lives within me-

the mind-body connection:

My soul that gathers in my gut,

all knowing –

the seed of me…

I feel that cell!

In every thought,

Panic—

Been trying to fit in all my life,

into a place I don’t belong.

The struggle is the internal structure,

a program that is wiser and unwilling,

to adapt to the stupidity

that brings peace.

OH and I want peace!

To be accepted by the very things and people

that I can’t accept, won’t…

that I frown upon!

I never would want to be like…

I simply envy the ability to be oblivious –

to nature and the universe,

to sound and sight,

and energy…

To the point they are happy!

Because it is true:

“Ignorance is Bliss.”

When you are a mirror,

the truth is evident,

and what I speak of

evokes fear in those

and sadness in me

because I am alone.

When I go into their notion it is

a vacation. I can take the weight off…

The philosopher, philosophy,

Aesthetics.

I am—

Detesting what surrounds me.

Wildly fearful there’s not a living soul to trust.

So smart….

to be a dope is easier!!

An OBLIVIOUS WONDERLAND!

Do what IS civilized society:

Detach joyfully,

tread on one another,

make a life of greed and war,

Things and more things…

Have your spawn shadow you.

Build an empire on illusion.

When I am in the light,

the sun-home,

I feel connected to the heart of mine.

Only then I can be free and walk among

the fools!

Those are the days of my innocence.

-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