In the Beginning . . . There Was War

She lay there in the dark
walls of Fallopia
She . . .
expelled from her safe
ovarian nest
She . . .
one of many,
this moon’s offering
to the god of fertility.

Throughout Fallopia
there is trembling
awaiting the great sacrifice.

She could hear their battle cries
far off in the distance
the vast and furious army of Sperm,
propelled through the tubes
of Fallopia
in one great seminal wave.

The frenzied race begins.
Blind though they are,
rapt by some ancient ritual
they struggle up the
dark and twisted passage way
to where she lay in wait for the attack.

One by one they strike,
her armor weakened with each blow
‘til soon her vanquished ovum doors split open
there . . . the Champion enters . . . the sacrifice complete
amidst the whirling chaos. . . a soul is born.

In the beginning . . there was war . . .this is the stuff we are made of.

Joanne Cucinello 2007

Rim of Gold

At the edge of my body
lies a rim of gold.
I am encased in light.
I am alive within my soul
which surrounds me
and remembers
who I am.

My feet touch the earth
that I alone inhabit
this speck of space material.
The earth connects me to
the core of my body ~
the sky receives the rays
of my soul.

When I leave this place
I will shed my skin
like an overcoat
my bones will turn to ash
and I will step out
into forever
all my colors shining

my true heart ablaze and ready
for the ride back home
where they will know me
and greet me
like a new born child
arrived with gifts wrapped
into my swaddling clothes

and I will give them all my earthly pearls
the remnants of their grace bestowed.

Joanne Cucinello 2010

Wishbone

I swam last night
weightless, floating
on a dark quiet sea
unafraid
peaceful and serene
as if I had done it
all my life . . .
a dream gift
a wishbone I won as a child
tucked in my pillowcase

. . . I swam last night!

Joanne Cucinello

Under the Summer Sky

Little bugs have found a home on my blanket here
the sweet green grass pokes through its shabby holes.

I have found a bit of peace this summer in the country
listening . . . watching . . . pondering
the way the clouds pass over the sun to cool me
the business of bugs doing their jobs so well
hoping as they run off with my crumbs
that I won't spy them . . . little thieves!

I have a feeling that they have ceased speaking
to their relatives . . . the roaches, who insist on
reading and nibbling your class papers
when night falls in that city school room.

A brook nearby, babbling its cool delicious bubbles
is tempting me to chuck these sneakers
and find a bit of ecstasy on the slippery rocks
maybe even get my ass a little wet
and squat . . . like a child who doesn't care
about green stained britches.

You must come here one day and listen
even the grass has something to say . . .

Joanne Cucinello

Yes, You Are Mine

I called you out of the darkness
a soul who became my child.
I don't recall the moment in time
or sleep or daydreams . . .
but I know deep down I did
and now you are here
a soul in body tangible
with cells and genes much
like my own.

I did not know the form
you would take
or how I would feel when I
looked into your shining eyes
that first moment
and all the moments to come
in our lives together
but I want you to know
today and forever
that your life was not a mistake
nor a wanton windblown excuse

You are all I asked for
you have shown me who I am
so many times and helped me face
my truth, my strengths, my weakness,
my sorrows and my joys.

You have grown through
all your pains and asked me
"Why was I born ?"
as you struggled
for your human heart.
But I know . . . yes, I know.

You are my promise, my blessing.
You were born to be my Child
and I was born to love you.

Joanne Cucinello 2010

Then I Knew

I thought
when I first saw you
that perhaps you'd be the one

but then
I remembered thinking that way
once before and I was wrong

once before
so wrapped up in my loneliness
I just took a chance with someone new

just needing
that someone to fill the empty space
I guarded with my heart

but that space
stayed empty even when he held me
even when we kissed . . . I heard no bells

even though
we smiled and walked together
it was nothing more than passing time

That's why
I had to taste your kiss
bold as I was, I did it, kissed your lips

I couldn't wait
for you to steal the chance
that night, I had to know if it was true

Your lips, so soft, so warm
made stars came out behind the moon
that kiss . . . made all the world stand still
, , , and then I knew.

Joanne Cucinello 2010

The Well of Grief

She has fallen, yes.
We see her lying there, down deep
at the bottom,
but she struggles not.

“Grab the ropes!” we shout.
“Someone . . . anyone
go down there and bring her up!”

We call to her, we shout
“Hang on . . . help is coming!”
But we listen and we look . . .
she struggles not.

We stop . . . we listen . . . hear an echo
She is singing soft, a lullaby.
We stop . . . we look now deeper.
A shadow . . . of another form
is lying there beside her
and she stokes his soft unknowing hair.

“You are my beloved”
we hear her whisper, but the form lies
still and cold beside her.
“Hang on . . . help is coming!” we shout again
and drop the rope.
“Help is coming!” but she struggles not.

“Move away” a young shining stranger says,
“I am going down.”
And as he makes his long descent
light surrounds him,
glowing embers flutter down upon her face.




“Lift your eyes, Mother. Lift your arms.
Come with me . . . grab the rope..
I will carry you . . . as once you carried me.
Come Mother,
you cannot wake my shadow
for I live in light now. . .
You will not find me here.”

“Mother, I am always with you.
Like the branches of one tree,
you and me.
When you sing . . . I sing.
When you cry . . . I cry.
With your happiness . . . I shine and dance with glee!”

“Mother, set me free.
Let go my shadow and you will hear my voice again
Your heart will see me dance . . .
and you will know that I am
just a breath away.


Joanne Cucinell0 © 2006

Taurus

Venus Child, earth-bound spirit of form and beauty....
Toil as you will this Earth,
which rouses your unbending passion to make real.
Take this clay and mold for us the vision of our life gift
as you unfold the hidden treasures of our finite world.

Teach us to value all that is good and beautiful
and to use the riches of the earth with reverence.
We walk on the dust of our beginnings,
yet our path is a journey to the stars.

© Joanne Cucinello 2004

*** this is a poem from my book
"Constellations . . . a Collection of Heavenly Poetry"

The City of Angels

In the City of Angels
there are no homes
nor clocks
to tell of time.
In the City of Angels
no one speaks
in words familiar.

There is a lake
in its center
filled with tears
rescued
from the hearts
of those who lost
their young.

This lake of tears
overflows at times
when many
suffer loss together
then tears
pour forth
to feed the trees
with crystals

Images of life on earth
hang draping
homage on the trees
some like flowers
some like vines
and even some
like thorns.

There are three moons
floating always
in a mist of
faintest melody
catching echoes
from the earth
and songs ~
of mothers.

The Beings
winged and fair
who light upon the
treetops
bring the souls
of little ones
and hold them close
beneath
their wings
until the tears subside
and broken hearts
can let them go.

For only then
will heaven part
as angels guide them
through the light
to all who went before
awaiting them
with open arms
and tears no more.



Joanne Cucinello 2007

My Totem . . . Elephant Child

Once in a dream
you played with me,
once very long ago.

You were small and white
flapping ears of pink
a little Prince
tumbling fresh
leaving the water
where your family played.

And I, in my long summer skirt
walking along the shore
picking shells and pebbles
from the salted sand
until . . . I heard you splash.

There I stood
caught between my dream and waking
delighting in your merry gestures
as you pranced and wobbled
your little trunk reaching
for the tip of my skirt
in playfulness, tugging at my heartstrings.

You came to me, Elephant Child,
in twilight's sleep
telling me of things to come
and not to fear, but just imagine
what my world could be
if dreams came true.


Joanne Cucinello

Sharing Happy News

To all my Readers:
Something wonderful to share with you!

Three of my poems were published this month in the
Mused-Bella Online Literary Review/Spring Equinox Issue
http://www.bellaonline.com/review/issues/spring2010/

and my blog "I See the Bridge" has been noted in the list
of "100 Best Poetry Blogs"
http://www.accreditedonlinecolleges.com/blog/2010/100-best-poetry-blogs/

Thanks to all of you!!

Must

We must find joy in our lives
even though
the news suggests otherwise.

We must be able to laugh
even though
sorrow has draped the neighbor's door.

We must be able to smile
even though
women lose their breasts every day.

We must eat and give thanks
even though
people are starving across the sea.

We must hug and kiss our babies
even though
there are orphans everywhere.

We must do what we can do
even though
it is not enough.


Joanne Cucinello 2010

Another Sunrise

The sun has returned once again
rising at dawn, as it did that day
when I emerged, wet and pink
from my Mother's womb.

I imagine that moment,
her soft breath returning then
the painful swells of agony subsiding.
I feel her clenched fists opening
to soft palms holding
as her long night's labor
found its end ~ in me.

When I celebrate my birthday
I celebrate that moment
shared in time
for there cannot be one
without the other
and I follow the long cord back
to that early March sunrise
on the day when I was born.


Joanne Cucinello 2010