Oh, To Ever Understand Thou Poetry Terms

O Poetry, poetry, wherefore art thou complex?
Tis but thy terms that are my enemy:
Thou art thyself, though not prosody.
What's prosody? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O be some other term!
What's in a poem? That which we call prosody
By any other name would smell as sweet;

Ugh...thee enjambment of brain cells
Thy meter of rhythm, no sense of closure
So poetry would, were it not poetry call'd,
Retain that dear insight which it oweth.

A twist [From Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, 1594]
J. DeBellis 8/31/09

Soul Food

Such are the tasty morsels

for the wonderland of the mind;

the most beautiful of words,

on the canvas of a page sprawled.

Alone, the letters detached

are mere dust in desert wind,

but when blended together

become a contrivance sweetened

Forever immortalized,

in glory and grandeur cloaked

Nourishment for the soul

in all seasons of its searching

Seared into fibers of being,

leaving their heartstring mark –

To draw upon the journey of time

and sustain our craving wont.

Mountain of Optimism

Making mountains out of bits of sand
From optimism much larger than life
Blinded by our warped perception
The bite of our darkest deflection

To our own shame - we digress.

No numbness can be drawn to cover
Nor healthy injection can help recover
that which these hands will overbear
When only sand castles they uncover.

Self Reflection

enolA Alone
tsactuO Outcast
deziniturcS Scrutinized
dootsrednusiM Misunderstood
ria eht ta gnipsaG Gasping at the air
ytitnedi gnilbmurC Crumbling identity
dednuow yllanoitomE Emotionally wounded
yteixna desserpeR Repressed anxiety
edolpmi ot ydaeR Ready to implode
worros fo lluF Full of sorrow
traeh derracS Scarred heart
nekorB Broken

A New Day On The Lake

Silver ripples gentle in the breeze
Warblers call from nearby trees
Rustling leaves like falling rain
Sweet Dawn stretches her arms again

Her Wild Eyes

Hollows of her eyes held more life
than one soul could possibly contain.
An ocean, brimming with a wildness
only God almighty could ever explain.

Clinging, grasping, tries to latch on
arms and legs, she wrapped around;
petting, rubbing, pressing firm,
any closer, she’d be bound.

Persistent in her pleas and tactics
Resilient to a fault with efforts
Smile in place with every whimsy
Security longed for despaired comforts.

Longing most to just be loved
Loving most to just be cradled
Cradled most; hopes and dreams…
Dreams deferred, some even squandered.

Entrusted to my care with limit,
boundaries pushed cause armour to crack.
I release her with one last goodbye,
she skips forward, never even looks back…

Where’s the clinging and the grasping?
Why isn’t she still latching on?
I watched her walk away for good –
A new target her eyes now fix upon.

Her object of security?
The one thing she believes won’t breach
It’s tried and true; her mind feels sure
…The closest thing within her reach.