Saturday, November 30, 2013

Did We Say Yes?

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I am the flesh that bore your soul
the smile you saw when first
your tiny eyes adjusted to the light
outside my womb.

Who are we, the two of us
so blessed to be given a chance to love
and this game of life to share together?

Was it a lottery of some kind the angels drew
above the clouds or a puzzle
that our two pieces made complete?

Did we each say yes, when asked the questions . . .
"Are you ready to suffer for someone else?
Do you know what it means to love until you die?"

We must have nodded or whispered
quite unsure, yet willing to smash through the cosmos
and land here in this tiny speck of earth together
mother and child.
I know, for me, it was by far
the brightest moment of my existence
and none since then could ever compare
to the moment I felt you alive inside
and knew that you were mine.

Joanne Cucinello    2013

We Too

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They look down at us from above
white winged glorious beings
seeing mostly
the tops of our heads

like push pins
multicolored against the earth
walking, running, and some
still trying to fly

trying to believe that Yes,
we too had wings once
that we too
could sit at the foot of God's throne
and gaze into Ecstasy.

 Joanne Cucinello  2013

Saturday, October 12, 2013


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Layers crust the earth and rocks
hiding what the chisel knows.
Time marks trees with circled rings
the proof of their existence.

We dig and chip away
hoping we will find somewhere
in the root of our beginnings . . .
that moment
that one glorious moment
when the first Being stood and
shouted to the stars . . ."Aha"!!
and knew that there was more.

We will not find that moment
in our diggings anywhere,
nor in any rock or tree recorded 
No . . .
that sound,
that first illumination
did not plant itself beneath his feet.

It traveled, racing
through the stars of the great night sky
straight across the heavens
and there it found   
beyond the darkness waiting . . .
the wild expectant heart of God.

Joanne Cucinello  2010

A Moment of Reckoning

It was well after dinner and a few Merlots
when I decided to stretch out on the rug.
My nine year old Shih Tzu, Max, had denied
my most wonderful offering of human food,
Pot Roast and Mashed Potatoes.

He went ape over it last night
when we had guests for dinner
but tonight I was cooking up
something else and he did not want to eat
luscious leftovers, even though any other
animal would have devoured them.

When he does this "rejecting thing" with me
I must admit . . . I DO become the animal
I say things I cannot repeat but
harbor in my sorrowful Dog Mother heart

So I lay there on the carpet
deep breathing and telling myself
Max is not a human, I can't give in!
And then he comes to me with his white fluff 
fluffing and his big brown eyes all full of fun

rolling and pressing his head on mine
wagging his tail, hopping away and then
rushing back to nibble my ears
panting wildly

and I surrender once again
to this little creature who must have been
human once , I'm sure . . . but not now!
And I remember how brief his life will be
and it is I who must give into
this moment of reckoning and meet him
halfway barking and wagging on the bridge. 

Joanne Cucinello ©2013

Monday, August 12, 2013

Spirit Child

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She dances sometimes
on my ceiling
in graceful swirls of ivory lace,
brushing by with wistful wings.
Childlike, hushed and innocent
she stirs my heart awake.

Such beauty!
How can this be?
She bears the face of an angel
a sweet cherub
captured by moonbeams
floating through my window.

I lay here watching
awed and silent
graced by
this gossamer being
caught in my world.
Why does she pass my way? 

Stardust falls from her hair
and I am spellbound
as she turns wide-eyed, angelic
searching for something
 . . . someone.

In hushed amazement, I watch as she gazes at me
who cannot speak, nor reach to touch.
Can it be that I’m the one she’s looking for?
I, who am not ready yet . . . to cross the borders of eternity?

Joanne Cucinello   2007

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Have You Seen It?

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There is a new light beaming
across the surface of the earth
Have you seen it?

Nothing like it has settled in the
clouds before . .  calmly waiting

all the thoughts  and consciousness
of those who've lived before
and walked this earth in blindness

have begun to settle in this light
this aura of the great Divine

Oh, how we have longed for it
this moment in time
when all the strings of the Giant Web
will soon be cut and folded into
one Cosmic Golden Envelope

soon to be delivered . . . our Ransom
purified in the fires of want
and desperation, the crystal waters of hope
and forgiveness, the winds of change and
deliverance, and the soil of Adam's rib.

We are Children of the New Earth
those promised to the Stars
our Ancient Brothers.
We shall carry their light that is dimming
and become like Stars ourselves
resting in the sacred palm of our Creator
floating in His tears.

Joanne Cucinello  © 2013

Wednesday, June 19, 2013


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My dreams are seeping and
weaving into daytime
haunting places so real they test my sanity.
I can't remember if they were once
a part of my conscious life
or some fantasy landscape I've created
repeating itself over and over
behind my lids as I sleep and dream.

There is a place so familiar
a place that returns again and again
where I swim unafraid and calm
in green murky waters
aware that reeds and seaweed
are reaching up from the bottom
swirling around me as I swim.

Strangely, I'm not afraid
I just keep swimming in that
dark green water toward the other
side without struggle or fear . . . even though
I never seem to get there.

What are dreams?
What are we to learn from them?
I often wonder, as so many have,
which is reality . . . this life I'm living, or my dreams?
Perhaps both . . . perhaps they are one.

Still I wonder
if the bits and pieces of my days
are painting the palate of my brain
trying to make some connection at night
with that wild spirit bound in chains
and the deeper meaning of my life
hoping to form a bridge to the other side?

Joanne Cucinello   2013

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Purple Sky

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Even the rich know sorrow.
They suffer too, when it comes.
The loss of a child is even worse
for them, and anguish lies in bed
with them when darkness comes
and money cannot buy a life.
Nothing stops the storms
that tear the trees from their roots.

We forget sometimes ~
when the sun is shining and
flowers are blooming ~
that all must die one day
even those who live on top of the hill.

But if we were to think of death every day
we would stay closed like a sealed book
stuck on a shelf in back of the library
where no one goes.

Life is this moment right now
and this moment is all we really have.
Life is the gift we cannot save for another day.

Too many children die rich and poor
yet the world still turns
while their songs are sung
and their kites fly high
even as the sky turns purple.

Joanne Cucinello 2013

Monday, June 3, 2013

No Gods Among Us

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Where have they gone
these noble men?

Once they were gods
great gods among us

but their pedestals have
crumbled, turned to dust

lies and deceit
all shades of trickery
slide from their mouths
like worms

trust . . . misplaced
honor  . . . diminished
loyalty  . . . traded for coins
chivalry  . . . erased from myths

and yet, these Once Gods
still envision olive wreaths
around their heads at a
mirrors glance

even though transparent
garments clothe their backs
revealing the very same ass cracks
seen on those of us who used to
stand in awe.

Joanne Cucinello

Sunday, April 14, 2013


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It is difficult moving
from the Center
of their Universe . . .
that Universe that now
has grown out and beyond
the habitat of Mother Moon
and Father Sun.

Orbs, we were once,
shining in their eyes
lighting the days and nights
with love and comfort
kissing wounds and making
cupcakes grow in the oven.

It is difficult watching
the flame die
seeing both of us
becoming little stars
visible sometimes  . . . at Sunset.

And yet . . .
this is how it is meant to be
this is how new galaxies
are born and life's circle
completes itself
over and over again.

Soon we will be immortalized
of this I am sure
for truly
it was Love that brought us here
and Love that will remain
when all the other stars have burned away.

Ahh! . . . letting go of Stardom can be difficult.

Joanne Cucinello   © 2013

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

The Song

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The girl child
grew like a vine
attaching herself
to any strong oak
in the forest
while the boy child
ran wild and tall
foraging and digging
for nuggets of gold.

One day
they found each other
by a silver stream that
bubbled and sang
of a strange new song
they had yet to hear.

their eyes opened wide
and caught sight
of their fingertips touching
and softness grew
up their arms
and into their hearts.

This was the beginning
of yearning . . .

and this became the Song.

Joanne Cucinello  © 2013

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Dream Walk

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Tell me
did I walk
into that dream
last night . . .
or did
that dream walk
into me?

Like hard rain it pounded
at my window glass
ready to shatter all
that I believe my life to be.

I fight
trying to hold onto
my cells and my skin
even though these bones
are beginning to wane
and settle into a soft
comfortable clump.

What will become of me
when I can no longer see
beyond this shell I knew
so well as Me?
What will become of
those dreams I thought
were mine?

Joanne Cucinello  ©  2013

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Nose Dives

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I keep trying to understand
how and when the process of human
transformation begins to take a nose dive
for some.

How does a human being turn into a Monster?
When does that sweet quiet child suddenly
begin hurting animals, just like that?
Is it really possible to go unnoticed,
or is no one paying attention?

We hear about it every day.
The News reports another psychopath
has tortured his victim and we hear the interviews
of family and neighbors
citing he was just a quiet guy, who kept to himself.

It makes me wonder . . .
Is no one paying attention?

Is there some point in that downward spiral
when time can be suspended long enough
for an antidote to be given?
Could unconditional love be that antidote?

Is there love enough to erase the darkness
and stains of the past, or must the Monster stay
locked and chained in his Cave forever?

Joanne Cucinello  


Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Will You find Me?

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Oh Lord, my soul is thirsty!
How do I live in this world?
How can I slice through fog so dense
and find that kernel of light and
truth you've promised?

I have sifted the sand around my feet
a thousand times, but it is hot and dry
and nowhere can I find that
drop of gold that floated in
my Mother's womb beside me.

Sometimes in my dreams
I can almost touch it
in a baby's smile or in a song
that has always stirred my soul
and then I wake, no longer in that grace.

What shall I do, while in my heart
there lives such fire?
Will I burn away to ashes and spend
eternity in some forgotten urn
or will you find my drop of gold,
through all this chaos and bring me home?

Joanne Cucinello    ©  2013

Sunday, February 17, 2013


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I am waiting
like the small acorn
left behind and buried
in the barren earth of winter

waiting for
the warm rays of
springtime's sun to
open up my heart again with light

do we all
not close that
inner door when
daylight's scarce and night is long

how necessary then this test
to pause and stay within the heart's
perimeter and muddle through the aches
of our decisions past, that walk us through the labyrinth

there is no undoing
yet the years leave memories
with faded watermarks, blurring truth
sometimes, as the mind grows weary in the dark.

so come sweet light
add your colors softly painted
to this waiting canvas of my thirsty soul
and I will, like the acorn, part this earth and bloom again.

Joanne Cucinello      2013

Crown Coffee Shop

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Crown Coffee Shop

It's been many years since our first date
and the small Crown Coffee Shop
we walked to on that snowy night

cold and chilled to the bone
no gloves or scarves, just acting cool
the way teenagers tried to do back then.

You said you went there often
and the owner wouldn't mind if we sat
drinking coffee all night. . . just staying warm.

Now it wasn't fancy, you warned me in advance
but it was cozy, and Tina, the waitress served
the best damn coffee this side of the Brooklyn Bridge!

There it was, just ahead, Crown Coffee Shop
the blinking neon sign, like Morse code,
saying "Come on in, you would-be lovers !"

When you opened the door
and I got a whiff of that fresh ground coffee
floating toward my cold pink nose . . . I knew somehow

we'd be sipping coffee together
for the rest of our lives . . . first thing
in the morning, tap, tap tapping out . . . that same Morse code.

Joanne Cucinello

Friday, February 8, 2013

I wrote this Story Poem in 2008, but for those of you, who were not following my blog back then . . . hope you enjoy reading it on this blustery winter's day . . . .

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Muse on the Red Wall

I stood before the fresco
a Muse on a long forgotten red wall.
I had heard the stories
of this ancient beauty rare.
In daylight, it was said
should seekers come
to gaze upon her face
she captures visions
of their hearts and draws them in
with sapphire glance
 and beckonings
of distant flute and lyre .
When darkness falls
she dances, lithe grace
under candle glow
and moonlight.

  So unannounced . . . 
I did return that night
and sat beneath the willow
bent to see.
And there before me
as the moon passed
soft across the evening cloud
she stepped upon the grass
the red wall watching
and began her ancient dance.
It was then
I heard her voice so pure
like Celtic lilt adrift among the trees
a song to tear my heart forever more.
She sang as if for me to hear:

In my eyes are a thousand faces
 Dancing the dance of a thousand years. . .
the music and chants of all the children
dance my dance and cry my tears.

You and I . . . the face in the mirror
You and I . . . the footprints in sand
Born of a rhythm that rides on
born with the earth in the palm
of our hands.
Hear the music
that travels the centuries
Find your heartbeat
and hold on fast
You and I . . . just the face
in the mirror
The Song, the Song . . .
is all that will last.

Joanne Cucinello  
© 2004

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