Tag Archive: Poetry


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

I miss her

frangipani-white-flowers

I miss her—

 

She escaped quietly—a shadow in the shade.

 

Light blues, frolicsome pinks, yellow-mood,

turned,

painful-ash-bones without a song of their own.

 

Delicately, and distant, dancing-treble-keys,

the sound of her heart infused in my memory.

 

Summer-air-breezes, youthful hope, catch courageous dreams.

 

A finely curved silhouette, through the corner of my eye an awakening,

She is there, frangipani-white-flowers, adrift, yesterday’s easier spirit.

 

Oh, the distance we have traveled on empty…

 

I want to capture the powerful freedom in her,

like a butterfly does feminine nectar,

conquer the darkness, implore her—

don’t give-in to fear and wither.

 

If you dare—

Let me disappear with you, jump inside,

and kiss you on the mouth!

 

Resuscitate life in her soul,

 

and like a storm approaching, remind her of me.

 

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

 

Indifference

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Love is not the answer… It never has been. Indifference that is your saving grace. Trust me. Love is a poet’s dream, verse, lyrics on the page, or on the tongue of a voice like an angel. It is painted strokes of violet and amber, by a temperamental artist. Don’t believe in the dreams of those dreamers! I have awakened from such a plight. I have danced frivolously to the song, read the verse with great motivation, and dreamt in magical color, free and innocently, believing… Therein lies the death of everything. It is indifference that keeps your heart in tact, your life situated – a novel’s happy ending.

–Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

God, The Tree, and I

mighty-giant-tree

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

Star Star

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Star

Star

Star

Star

Siblings and distant cousins

they are.

Light-years-apart.

Clusters. Strangers.

Falling 

Falling

Where they go…

I do not know.

Cradle them: Tender souls.

Immortal wishes

to burdensome—

Minds their own.

Flee the sky – human scars.

Star

Star

©Maria DellaPorte 2016 All Rights Reserved

 

 

Silent Poet

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Oh, you mustn’t see the movement of wind,

and portray it a miracle:  Two dancing leaves,

or a linen sheet flowing,  ghost on a line.

 

Remove the eye from light and lens and dreams!

 

You shouldn’t sketch in shades of interest,

intricate detail,

or circles that leave no room for escape.

 

Don’t dare dip your brush into orange,

or paint a captured sunset,

but let it escape unnoticed in the rise:

 

No wiser…

 

Are the people that cannot hear the poet—

 

(See the painted mural. Photo of invisible come to life.)

 

Maria DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

 

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Helium Life

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 Dying.

 

Lying

to myself,

trying.

 

Hold onto the string.

Safety.

 

I desperately want

 

to lose

prove

 

Float free from

 

Its weighty foundation.

 

Above clouds of ordinary

feel the success.

 

Traveling feet.

 

Confident quest –

 

The helium life inside…

 

Abounding.

 

Everyday, a different color,

yellow, blue, orange, green, purple:

 

Kiss me beautiful!

 

Oh little shining star, someone etched a

scary face,

frown.

 

You learned

not to trust,

judge

 

natural instinct.

 

Inseparable from

a tied knot,

dependable ribbon.

 

Grounded.

Held my hand, thank you

for security.

 

Now let the air out,

I must go.

Love you from lost worlds,

creating themselves

 

inside the hollow

of an oval-shaped promise.

 

Only I can fulfill…

 

Please remember

our stories,

 

should I return home

for a roof overhead

 

and a buttered biscuit.

Maria DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

 

Man without a Moon

Unknown

The moon is gone.

A gravitational pull into black

hole, impossible escape.

Without a home:

You are, man. I’m sorry.

The tragedy—

Narcissistic stars and shallow agendas

traded your worth:

A dollar in a jar.

They gather in the tropics,

speak in fire and grandeur.

Shine on the revenue from which you were sold,

a good soul unwilling to concede.

How you moved the tides,

smiled with a quarter of the wealth,

became full with glow, ruled the evening sky.

They could not accept your change,

coming and going, confidently.

Its affect on them…

Discarded you,

a mirror reflecting truth.

Jealous storms collect their belongings,

tear deeper craters into your surface.

Unfaithful fools!

Loyal to fickle pennies their shinny copper.

Oh goodness, how exaggerated they became.

Self-importance. Gloating dirty mules.

I hear they’ve taken up yoga, and smoking

in certain circles where it’s considered cool.

A manufactured haven, created, where

no one is, “real or at home.”

In the abyss, the residents of forever,

chant poetry about the color blue,

applaud the moon – his gracious dark side,

feminine delight,

remember it shined brilliantly

off a generous sun.

Maria DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

Emerge

img122_the-transformation-of-daphne

Q u i e t ~

Long steps—backward,

forward again,

c a u t i o u s l y.

Feel their every breath.

Strain inward. Release asthmatic clutch.

Fulfill the tale with a lungful

of enlightenment.

Haunted-minor-discernments.

Alluring torment.

Little tease.

Secrets want exposure –

the spotlight.

I am listening… listening…

 

To catch monsters in a jar,

build my empire.

The impetus: To realize its hold on me.

First, I will shake the hand,

embrace an old friend: A

colloquy of pleasantries.

Then with upmost politeness,

no offer to excuse myself, however –

Tear its heart out with my teeth,

swirl my tongue in satisfaction.

Lap up the residual effect:

Compensation!

The knowledge of everything

conquering death.

Toss it, blithely, into a miracle

of incandescent awareness.

Become like cherry sugar,

decadent syrup drizzled on the world:

My breast—its nipple heart,

the universe in my cornea,

all the answers grown from follicles,

a planet scalp—beautiful auburn.

Smash the paradox, ozone…

A big bang life!

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved