Thursday, February 12, 2009

On That Day

There was a day
when I was young
just a flash in time
a moment . . . stirring like the wind
to take my breath away
and it was You.

I walked into a room of people
but only you were there.
A sun tanned face turned to me
wide eyed and chiseled . . . a strong
face full of questions so intense
and then . . . that smile
that absolutely perfect smile . . .
sunshine and heartache all in one.

Stranger . . .
you brushed against me
in my dreams a thousand times
but on that day your flesh was real.
Little did I know
you would still be here
in my bed today.

Joanne Cucinello 2009

Thursday, February 5, 2009

They Do Not Lie

hands and shadows Pictures, Images and Photos

See how they move
when someone speaks or sits to listen?
Hands ~ they tell the stories.
Fingers with their length and flexibility
or rigid tightness ~ tell of life spent living.
Some flow freely with expression
some close tight in solid fists . . . hiding.

The worker, the poet,
the mother in her tenderness,
the clumsy, the delicate
~ the fierce,
I watch them all
moving ~
while everything else is
motionless and still ~
gestures from the soul
that speak, despite the silence.

Tonight ~
will they comfort someone
in the dark?
Tomorrow ~
will they feed the poor?
Or are they planning

to destroy and tear to shreds
some dark illusion that I'll read about
tomorrow when I wake?

Joanne Cucinello 2008

Business Directory for Port Jefferson, NY

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