Category: Uncategorized


Emerge

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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

Twisters

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Some days—

 

are fucking twisters.

 

Furious funnels

collecting tomorrows,

taking them for granted.

 

Hitting us in the face

with yesterdays,

memories that love and

hate us.

 

We keep ‘em either way.

 

Scream holy hell with regret

and smile gladly, it happened.

 

Today—

 

all these pieces

waiting to fall into place…

 

Here I am, a spiral

trying to find you,

 

to land with you,

 

or fall apart perfectly,

the same.

 

My friend,

over there in the traffic,

the pain, the pondering.

 

Emptiness here is

the same.

 

Reflecting back…

 

Maybe

it was a conversation.

 

A Chevy, racing.

Anywhere embracing madness

we thought may kill or save us.

 

A confident moon in July.

 

A street walked

a thousand times.

 

The stale warm Michelob

we shared.

A Marlboro taken from

behind your ear for a light.

 

The days we were fearless

and brilliant.

 

I can never grow old

with you, forever young,

in my heart.

 

God, I love you.

 

In the sound of music,

no matter what road,

the lyrics: We are so free.

 

Free—Jesus Christ!

We could go anywhere.

 

That’s exactly where

you’ll find me,

 

waiting,

laughter to receive you

home.

 

Rest assured:

All of our collected treasures,

broken dreams, right, wrong,

 

b e l o n g.

 

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

(This poem was inspired by my friend, Joe, and for all of my closest friends through the turbulent teenage years that remain forever in my heart, wherever life takes us…I know, we know, those of us that will always shine a light for the other.) 

 

About the Author

Seven years later and I’ve finally taken the time to update my Bio! What can I tell you, I’ve been busy. Lol – I think it comes with the excitement of my new book (only a couple of weeks away from availability). Yay! So, I hope that you will all stop by to read it and let me know what you think. Thank you. 🙂 Also, if any of my subscribers here on WordPress are on Tumblr please join me there as well. My page name is LovePoetryMe. I’d love some advice on how to add website links etc. I still haven’t perfected the ins and outs of WordPress and now I have another to learn. Time and technology don’t stop for a breath moving forward but I must! The sun is shining and I’m going to pull myself away from my keyboard long enough to stretch my legs and enjoy what’s left of the day.

Have a good one everybody! 🙂

Ordinary Joe

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Boarding the railroad is for ordinary Joes,

Working stiffs—

I am ordinary Jane.

Everyone shares a lift

to his or her destination.

We are one, riding,

passengers in a traveling trance,

owned by places.

I distinguish my identity,

imagine crying out:

I’m too pretty for these blue and red vinyl seats!

Season’s floral landscape

passing windows

tinged from evening rain

nourishes souls aboard,

a funeral for unfulfilled dreams.

Victims of lifelessness—

I want to peel wasted time,

like a tangerine!

For what reason do we die this way,

never picking daffodils,

admiring laughter.

Playing sounds of waterfalls on tape,

we see birds in their song,

live beautiful moments

in manufactured peace.

Today could be extraordinary,

if given a chance—

A smile turned golden.

When the time comes to participate

in life’s luster again,

I won’t return, but send a postcard,

sealed with dancing lips.

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Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2007 All Rights Reserved

Lavender Garden

norfolk_lavender_garden_653_jpg_originalLetting go.

Your hand—a ghost.

 

The love: warm blood remains.

Will continue to pass through me.

 

Thump, thump…

the pounding empty chest,

swallowed down a burning throat.

 

Hold her willingness to stay. Please!

Nurture it like sweet breast milk.

I may become your solid foundation,

stone woman. Perfect waistline.

 

No heart.

 

“For what do I feel with purpose”,

you’d ask?  The pain mere inconvenience.

 

I want to build a Lavender garden,

land softly, a butterfly to its scent.

Smile—the perfect yellow.

 

You can sit on a throne of clouds

that cannot hold your influence,

 

let it fall, sorrowful grey rain.

 

The dawn or dusk can find us:

 

A silent consequence.

 

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte

© 2016 All Rights Reserved

 

 

The other day I jumped onto WordPress to apologize for being less active in my reading, posting, etc. I’ve been busy finalizing details for the publication of my new book, Life in Between. I excitedly posted the links to Barnes and Noble, Amazon, etc. Today, I received a printed version as it will go out to the public, and STOP THE PRESSES!

It’s explained to me that it’s rare for any issue to occur with the printer. My middle name is, Rare! I’m the 1% out of a million to have anaphylaxis to medication. However, my one in a million odds for winning the lottery works fine siding in the opposite favor.

News flash: The printer has been stopped. Temporarily Unavailable is what you’ll receive as a message when placing an order for my book. Why? The photographs are not represented properly with the detail, light, depth, composition, that are in the actual ones submitted and that showed perfectly electronically.

This is a hugely upsetting situation for me being people have already ordered, I’ve launched campaign ads, and so forth. Trying to find the silver lining, or at least the humor. I’m a humorous kinda gal in the midst of tragedy. Details, and more details to be rearranged. Headaches. Worry. Oh, and I’m tired, in need of a vacation that includes alcoholic beverages served in cut-out fruit.

Thank you everyone for the continued support. I’ll be back with things ready to roll again in no time. Life in Between, the title of my book for a reason.

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New Book Release

My apologies if I haven’t been as active recently reading and keeping up with new posts. I’ve been inundated finalizing details for the release of my new book, Life in Between, a collection of poems and photographs. This is an exciting time for me. I hope that many of you will pick-up a copy of the book. I’m positive you will enjoy the poetry and photography. Thank you in advance for your support. I look forward to continuing enjoying all of your blogs. 🙂

These links are to Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iUniverse. In the following weeks the book will be listed on additional sites and a preview will also be available. Happy Reading!

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/life-in-between-maria-pisciotta-dellaporte/1123593189?ean=9781491790496

http://bookstore.iuniverse.com/Products/SKU-001035245/Life-in-Between.aspx

Bully

Oh, oh my belly is churning.

—Dope.

 

The snake inside pretending

not to be a reptile.

 

Abiding. I am to the rules,

broken,

breaking my insides.

 

You are afraid aren’t you?

 

If I could hear I’d answer,

yes…

 

But it’s a lie. Only one evil

manipulator at a time.

Fuck!

 

Here he is desperately weak.

Indeed!

Bravado build me a bully.

 

You can hear the laughter

is torment. True horror

inside the crackled bits of him.

 

I am—pink chiffon. Captured in

innocent breeze. Follow her

to the secret.

 

Her love is real.

Won’t hurt you.

 

Even if he bites three times.

We can count backward steps,

black patent-leather shoes,

shine-click-click.

 

Wake-up tomorrow perfect.

 

See the daytime illusion on Venus

to the left. Always teasing, teasing.

 

The only thing that makes her

cry.

©2016 Maria DellaPorte All Rights Reserved

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Die Today

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Don’t die today with all the stories in your eyes

let me stare deeply into their cave and get lost in

licorice land sweetness pumping from the heart

that doesn’t know its fate those deteriorating insides 

freshly scented summer daffodils bloomed-rotting-bones

parasites crawling from your ears remember your

favorite tune when you can no longer hear but 

songs or sins will burn your tongue swallowing bitter

yesterdays so let it go to hell in the soul of your feet

where we will jump off the edge into dust that

steals your sanity and dreams STOP! This is the

gravitational pull up I am almost home can hear

your mother’s cries the blackness surrounding 

wind at  your back the day was born without you today 

humming your memory—I’ve forgotten the words.

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©Maria DellaPorte 2016 All Rights Reserved

Two Stars

A hundred thousand years—

 

Many millions to ensue…

 

Where we will be, longing.

 

The vast darkness.

          Faithless.

                    Always the same!

 

However, dotted speckles of light

do not question,

 

but are disciplined droplets – A fire-ballet.

 

Delicately skim pedals of

gold horizon, aspiring hearts

willingly innocent.

 

Strongly carved planets,

those immobilized souls,

elongate – calves pulling up onto toes.

 

Spin, spin…

 

The progression of hopeful chords—

 

Symphony of galaxies, continual,

birth new homes, infinite desire:

 

Honey twirling-off edge, a spoon,

light years from the tongue.

 

Two stars, waiting too long…

 

S e p a r a t e

 

Their celestial bodies – gravity,

allow a great fall.

 

Into love become extraordinary,

 

diminish the gap between God

 

          and unabashed fulfillment.

 

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2016 All Rights Reserved

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