The Magic in the Stars is Dying

Flickers of Colored Boxed Light at Dead-End Avenue

Legs Streched, Crossed

Steady Hum-Drum-Hum

Pictures Hanging Off the Wall

Explore In-Out-In-Out

Beautiful Countryless Flag Blowing in the Wind

Stars All Up-Above You Anyway

One Star

Births Us All Maniacs

Births Us All Paranoids

Births Us All Lovers

Births Us All Simple-Circuits

The Dim-Lit-Bright Ones Make Connect-the-Dot Pictures

All Us All Dying In 

All Us All Dying Out

We Stare at Them But Answer Only In Questions

On Night Sky Play Pythagorean Theorem

On Piano

On Rain-Dust

On Kitchen Spoons

On Cloud-Morning-Coffeee Cups

On Night Sky Lay Backs Wet-Painted-Grass-Staines

Of Fourth of July Explosions that Tickle-Backs and Trickle Down to Earth

Of the Stars That are Wispered and Hush Buddah Dolls Sold in Stores for Printed Paper-Making-Money-Class

Good for Old

Bad for New

Something to Reach For

Something Miracle-Cure-is-ness

Something of Every Godt to Exizt

Something of Nothing

Do a Rain Dance

Kill Like the Sun

Pantomime All Winter 

Using Only Thumb and Forefinger

Things of Wonder

Caught in Nets of Rational Brain

A Few Break Free

Begin to Ponder

Like We All Did Younger

Underneath Blankets and Covers

With Flashlights Lit Like Dampened Diamond Signals to the Sky

Like We All Died Older

Finished Caught in Painted This

An Endingless Kiss

They are All Our Eyes

We are Everyone

The Magic in ther Stars is Crying

Not Far From Us

Vows taken on a crisp Saturday afternoon in September,
You wore a velveteen black suit, and me and my cream colored lace,
We swirled through the park like doves in flight,
Everything was oh...so right!

That first year, you held me in the rocking chair your mother gave us,
No arms had ever given me such peace and comfort,
Your gentle kisses to my neck and ears,
Three long blissful and beautiful years before our first born.

Then the security of all we could have asked for,
The nights of laughter and after dinner rides to the custard stand,
You in your jovial disposition and me with my coy school-like charm,
And then home, to snuggle together on the couch.

The tenth year was busier after our daughter was born,
I could not have chosen a better father for our children,
But the rocking chair needed some repair,
I missed our snuggles we used to share in the days of old.

You always made a point of reminding me about how you loved those days,
I'd kid you about your extra pounds ruining the dowels under the seat,
But in our own way, the memory savored, lasted into our 25th anniversary,
Still, every few months I would beg you to fix it.

Now that the children are grown and come to visit,
I sometimes tell them how you used to hold me in that rocker,
They smile with the same tenderness back at me,
And I see your twenty year old charm in their eyes again.

One day, a few months after the funeral,
I took a seat alone in the chair when I came home,
Rickety now, the wood is dried and brittle,
I hardly can imagine those days were real.

The days are getting longer, it seems, and many times I wonder
Where you are, maybe sitting on a crescent moon, gazing at the stars,
I have gained so many beautiful memories from the life we shared,
And I still wish you'd fix this rocking chair.

10:19 PM 4/28/2013 ©

From the stardust twinkling brightly in the finest of our hours,
So it will be too, when we leave our earthly shells behind,
Retreating back into the the universe from where we came,
They say that long ago we even chose our earthly names,
This life mapped out for us, but it's destiny unclaimed,
Choices that we make will carve our each and every day,
And once upon a world ago, he also came to earth this way, 
He walked his destiny the same as many others, too,
And within the past 10,000 years his finest hour drew,
I think he lived a special life,
But the same as many others,
Just a man who longed to teach
What it means to be a 'brother'.
They say he said so many things and yet, it's hard to tell.
Sometimes I think it was his choice alone to live his personal hell,
A chance to change the world and make a way to speak your mind,
The price he paid was common for the rebels of his time,
And he often spoke about his father hovering above us,
I now think that his 'father' was the star that told of his birth,
Today he lives among the heavens way up in the sky,
Or bouncing between each other heart to heart and eye to eye,
I think he lived a special life,
But the same as many others,
Just a man who longed to teach
What it means to be a 'brother'.
Words can be so misconstrued, when egos take the stand,
It happened in his day and still goes on in every land,
I do not feel he ever dreamed of 'church' in the same way,
We've twisted it to make it into what it is today.
Manipulation games and condemnation in his name,
Did love of money buy us rights to crown him 'King Of Shame'?
I think he lived a special life,
But the same as many others,
Just a man who longed to teach
What it means to be a 'brother'.

8:51 AM 4/19/2013 ©

And on the
eighth day,
the entity
known as
God emerged.

The slumber
from deep within
the universe came
to pass, and beheld
unto time came
what was.

Gazing at the
galaxies,
girdled in all
creations,
mesmerized
by the blue
planet and
it's struggle
for evolution.

And in that
moment,
inspiration
wielded all
space and time,
and all
demons,
angels, stars,
and planet gods
and goddesses
came forth to
look upon
the blue
planet,
perplexed,

for never before
had they been
witness to
seppuku.

Such exquisite
beauty and
gracefulness
gifted into
life, hurling
without
regard to
uncontrolled
subjugation.

Convoluted
in cohesion
with what
they saw,
a strange
and eerie
sense of
antipodal
rapture ensued.

And balance
was sought,
as the blue
planet
floated to
it's destiny.

Time and space
went on,
and stars
and planets
remained,
and all was,
is, as it
ever shall be
to infinity
and beyond.

So mote
it be.

Copyright 2013

http://www.upworthy.com/some-strange-things-are-happening-to-astronauts-... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seppuku

I can’t help but hide from this envious moon,

Clinging to the sky like ivory on oak.

Intertwined fibers of its circumference gleaming,

Outside, nostalgic avenues form rivers, streaming.

I can’t help but stare at these silent walls,

Repelling the cold air like magnetic aversion.

Headlights shine lambent, photonic, reflecting.

Inside, dark paint glitters, diverting, infecting.

As the immoderate stars watch over us, burnished,

The fear of hereafter is compelling, yet mystic.

I watch from my chamber, I listen; I wait,

A schema, cognition, they must procreate.

Why do I hide from an obscure world?

Outlining boundaries, fearful, despondent.

Expressions vague, a world aside.

These factions of cryptic, doth not subside.

Why be afraid of a future forthcoming?

For thou shall come quiet, vibrant, becoming.

The waves of magnolias bear no comparison to the complexity of your eyes, 
Your hair of velvet flowing in the wind like a thousand silent seas. 
As nightfall burns like quiet embers, the stars stare at us through evergreens. 
Compassion so fortifying, so vital, it writes perfection in the skies. 

The way the evergreens encase us in a gridlock of astounding silence, 
Forces you to pull me tighter, ever so near. 
I assure you, my love, there’s no need to worry, nothing to fear. 
You’re here with me, under a billion sleeping diamonds. 

Your skin reflects the moonbeams as the stars paint this charcoal night. 
Your perplexing beauty in the radiation makes me fall in love more and more. 
I’m silent, your innocence igniting my core.
I want to soar above empires, you and I in a weightless flight. 
  
If the skies fall, crashing down like a heavy snow, 
I would press my head to your chest, listening to your heart’s slow, calculated beat. 
Death can approach with an army, an infinite force, an incalculable fleet, 
But I'm here with you, under a flourescent, midnight glow. 

STAR CROSSED

            Edward Iacona 

For thousands of years many believe
And hold fast to their opinion
That the twelve star signs rule our lives
And hold us within their dominion.

Through complicated calculations
Shiny points of night light above
Reveal our traits and future lives
And can tell us who we should love.

We can wonder if we’re compatible.
That is an astrologer’s task.
And, as many things in life,    
It depends how and whom you ask.

Some will say "Yes." and some "No."
Or, “If there’s effort and really tries.”
But my astral guide to love is this,
The stars in each others eyes.

If you gaze at a nature long enough,

You will clearly see

How beauty is born

When we synchronize outer change

With inner transformation.

Transformation is always

Gently knocking on the door,

Asking permission,

Offering growth. 

If you listen

Listen and you can hear it.

Hear it?                                                                                                                           

Change comes upon us

Like the sun at dawn,

Like the moon

In the stillness

Of the night.

Transformation happens

When we allow it to be

In sync

With change.

When we allow ourselves to be what we truly  are.

We are at one with nature.

You are on the other line. 

                                                                                                                    Answer the call.

                                                                                                                                                                        ©2012