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
Recently viewing photographs of the famous mosque in Iran,
and considering a question as to what the caption could be…
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.
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!
—Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2015 All Rights Reserved
(I do not own any rights to the public photographs)
At 2:00 A.M. I stir,
between the firm bed
(my permanent hip imprint on one side)
and a cotton white sheet.
There is a sense of movement outside
of myself.
The room with varying shadows,
cast from a light on a cable box, and
the Post Office window.
Two slats of the wooden blinds,
caught in an open position:
I look to see what I believe is a man,
with blue eyes, staring in at me.
What about me do you find so interesting?
I speak to him through my mind:
Are you a gentleman?
A sailor?
A villain or a spy?
“I trust I am a star.”
If I count them in the sky, can I help you,
get back to from where you came?
“You may…
Only don’t count yourself so lucky.”
Oh please, I am not so naïve!
Suddenly, the blinds seem to disappear.
The shadows become wings.
The light:
a darkness that provides perfect vision.
I am not in my bed but the hand of God—
The eyes of a man:
a majestic ship.
Carrying us both, two Seagulls, weightless,
upon the waves.
To the outer parts of the universe,
we go…
but not so far as to reach Heaven—
Before I find myself wondering,
on my pillow,
about things that only earth can bring:
housekeeping, finance, relationships…
I should have known better than to dream!
The sailor at my window,
collected his eyes of blue,
all the wisdom of the galaxies,
and caught the next passing cloud
for the coast.
Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2015 All Rights Reserved
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
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
I don’t know if everything is the same as it has always been, and each step is in a direction we already know of instinctively, or if things are in constant transformation awaiting our discovery; If the universe is inside of us, growing with each beat of our hearts, or if we are merely a part of it, a link in the chain of knowledge desiring to be pertinent. And we are…
It’s 2013, 14, 25… and yesterday was 1857, 1942, 63, 79, 86… B.C./A.D. Someone was born of importance, and others died old and aching, young and wanting… Everyone broke someone’s heart. An event changed everything. Your grandmother was there, my father, Washington, Martin Luther, John Lennon, Mother Theresa, and Jesus. They built us; and then there was Hitler and Lucifer, who tried to destroy us, but the moon went down over the sea and the sun rose again over the mountains, as it ever shall be world without end. So we grow and sing and cry. We conquer and cave. Lose and win.
We are here in New York and New Delhi, in Asia, Spain, Turkey, Norway, Jerusalem and Italy… but these places we call home are but merely fragments of earth that belong to the stars. We are all born from a mother’s womb that will flourish with life and blood, then return to dust. We are each other. Connected. In the palm of one another’s hands. Hold me delicately, as I you.
Love stands alone. It is the fuel of life and dreams. I have loved you.
There is a universal sound of wisdom implanted in our brains that calls like a seashell humming to take us into the waves of consciousness. I will meet you there… like a bell that has rung and echoes into the silence. When it is dark, promise you’ll reach out for my hand and pull me from fear of the unknown. I know in time we will be cast into the light once again, perfect and innocent, to become ourselves… a cosmic truth.
Author: Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte
Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved
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