Plain English –
In a place you don’t want to be,
and can’t escape from,
is not a poem to write,
but in this case true.
Orange-rage,
and wilting power, 🥀
fight,
in a locked-box about to explode!
Maria DellaPorte ©2018 All Rights Reserved
(Short and sweet because, Baby, it’s cold outside and that’s what it’s all about.)
Conceptual Art Credit Claudia Perna
Silver lining—
I am trying,
in love and despair,
to find you.
Reds, blues, heavy-anchors,
every which way…
I look, see a resemblance,
a flicker-beautiful, eyes, calling to –
yesterday’s:
confidence in motivation.
trust in a means to an end.
The universe, time,
tick-tock… mocking!
Climbing.
Fighting.
Lies.
Exhaustion.
The day comes with its bread and water,
its sun, molding vertical lines,
invisible, free-air, mind trapped inside.
Dare not speak the truth…
that it might find me,
once willing—unprepared.
In the pain I am with you,
razor-sharp reality,
creating colors that do not fade
impervious mysteries,
but that hold onto a heart.
There… its fragility,
saves the God inside us.
Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2018 All Rights Reserved
Nike – Winged Goddess of Victory Weathervane*
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.”
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
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