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Poetry Offerings from

James V. Nicosia

Mysterious Moon

Oh Whispering Wind

Dream Awakening

Living Art

Poetry To A Dying Friend

Snow Flakes

Time

As Above So Below

Anna Lee


 
























 
 
 
  O Whispering wind

 
O whispering wind--
 
O howling Storm--
 
In what manner does thou enter my room;
 
Like the birds awakening with sweet chirping song--
 
Like the trees dancing in free play of morn.
 
Thy voice is of Spirit
 
Thy Fragrance of Heaven.
 
Come again and again--
 
Reminding me--
 
Consoling me--
 
Finding me home.


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              Dream Awakening

 

       Suddenly I awoke from the dream.
       Many years of spirits and masters
       And much more in between

       The energy expended withdrew from all space
       And lying open, flew away all grace.
       Nothing but comfort there remained--
       The solid--the arranged.
       Only fleeting feelings of the real
       I struggled to hold.
       But all faded and slow.

       Now I remember my world
       Having slowly returned
       And left the stares to the gods
       As they sparkled and burned.
 

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Living Art

I saw his drawings on the floor
Scattered like leafs in the mist of fall
But I assure you, they were not dead
As they were looking at me, instead
For they drew light from window-east
Like flowers in the mist of spring
Something told me to be still
Then they flew around as in a whirlpool

Like dancers in a play, you see
They entertained me as I ceased to breathe
I saw the sun go down to let them rest
For they drew light from window-west
Like flowers when they wait for dawn
Till someone pays them heed again
 

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Poetry  To A Dying Friend

I read poetry to a dying friend--
He laid quietly,
I sat down.
There was sun in his eyes
And moon in mine.
He spoke of happy seasons.
I stumbled between the lines.

I read poetry to a dying friend--
The words came out--
Some flew up,
Some spilled on the ground.

Through the window glass came
Voices, birds and rumbling cars.
Through my mind came
Memories, images, and healing scars.
He watched snow flakes dance in the air.
I watched them melt and disappear.

I read poetry to a dying friend--
He smiled peacefully,
I cried not a sound.
 

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         Snow Flakes

  Many years ago they shown
  but to us time dwellers
  they newly formed. So many
  that none were named
  as stars so deserve.

  If they were stars,they would
  twinkle on their own but reflected
  light reveals their vulnerability

  and unlike stars they burn out
  not from lack of energy
  but from not being noticed enough as individuals
  until completely fallen, they form
  one white galaxy--shoveled and
  kicked away, unless a child catches
  one and holds it for eternity.

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Time

 If you could set it,
 It would probably still be wrong.
 Old watches are like that
 Keeping perfectly wrong time.
 New ones glance at a satillite.
 I wonder:
 Is the earth trying to keep up with the watch or visa
versa,
 Of course, visa versa, the scientist would say.
 New ones glance at a satellite.
 I wonder:
 What does the satellite glance at--the earth!
 Maybe it's a dance.
 Maybe one has two left feet.
 Maybe they argue with one another, saying,
 Speed up or slow down.
 If Einstein and Galileo were dancing,
 They would both be leapers.
 Who would catch--the gods!
 The clock on the micro is two minutes quicker than
the church chimes.
 The watch is nine.
 If time is forever--then there is none--
 Just gears and spears going around and around.

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  As Above So Below

     I wonder if I had the eye,(as above so below).
     There in the tiniest of worlds,
     millions on the point of a needle
     revolving in the micro-heavens as
     they do with their own sun center
     nucleuses to heat provide.

     Would there be life a scurry,
     teeming as ours, and then with
     scope-probe, peering out, as up, to
     study how it started.
     And with rocket, there ride.
 

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