Love Poem

Photography and Poetry 

by Maria L. Gattuso

I need you

to know

the sun hasn't set

on my love for you

I search my days

for just a glimpse

of how you used

to feel

In my arms

on my lips

in my heart

and soul

You went there

and now I can't

find my way

home

Your my map and

treasure

you stole my heart

completely

I can't just

flip the switch

you're in my

blood and water

My eyes 

see you everywhere

everywhere

but near me

If I get the chance

I will take you

I will melt your heart 

back into mine

When you see you

you will see me again

we will be as one

as before

But this time 

it will last forever

Clarity Would Disagree

If you think you've seen the ocean because you stand at the water's edge, think again.  Perhaps you've sailed across the open sea communing with whales and sea birds, do you think to yourself, 'now, I have seen the ocean, now, I have seen the sea'?  What if you've only flown over the oceans, from land to land, would that perspective be the one?  One glorious sunny day, you swim with dolphins and snorkel with sea turtles and sting rays, does your mind satisfy the heart and say, 'I've seen this before'? And, sitting at a fancy restaurant, the waiter brings you a fresh sea bass dinner, do you think you know fish now?

The mind is quick to relay a complete compilation of perspective in unfathomable time.  It is so convincing.  The mind can take any story, any image, any thought, any thing and create an epic masterpiece of illusion.

Even the best of us can become hypnotized by the confusion with which the mind presents its stories.  The best actors and actresses are portrayed on the stage in the mind way before a toe has ever graced a stage.  What of all this drama?  What of all this chaos?  We channel it outward to space, to thin air, to each other, to our children, to everything with very little concern of the result.  We are so sure of what we see.  We are so sure of what we feel.  We are so sure.

Clarity would disagree.

In my own personal journey, in my own personal mind, I have been disillusioned.  I have been hoodwinked.  Scammed.  I have believed the epic story teller's tale of woe, fear and defeat.  I have reaped the minds suffering of repeated dwellings, deep caverns of discontent and discord.  I have believed others' stories too.  I have believed the media.  I have believed merchandise.  I have believed that which has no soul.  The mind is soulless.  The mind is conflicted, quick to reverse its ego serving hard drive.  The mind is a tool that can malfunction.  The mind can be manipulated.  It is one of the human souls' routing systems of all we have the potential to become, but the mind has to be controlled, corralled, soothed and calmed.  The only thing that soothes the mind is the human taking control of it.  And, might I add, if you don't control your mind, someone else will.  Perhaps just an archetype run a muck, or perhaps it's someone else like government, or pharma.  It is much harder to control that which you do not understand.  Knowledge is truly power here.

It's been a long 40 years for me in the desert of my mind.  Unlike the seas and oceans depth, my mind just stretched across for miles in the dust of scorpions.  I am referring to the process that I allowed my mind to take when navigating my world.  Sure, we all have issues, or past experiences, or things that have happened to us that we carry.  We all do.  And sure, some of us are more aware than others even convincing themselves that they're doing something different, finding a better solution, a more profitable outcome, but the results speak volumes.  You are what you think you are, and I am what I think I am.

And, all of that is subject to change in a flash, like a comet streaming across the sky illuminating the shadows and dust that transcends.  Give in to it.  Allow.  Stop resisting.  Only silence and meditation can lead the way through the noisy hallways and persistent sign posts showing choices always, but definitives never.  Courage.  It takes courage to look within and to cultivate truth and integrity in a society that is dead set against your freedom.  My freedom.  I choose to carry my dust pan around on the inside and tidy up.  I'm clearing out, with love, that which no longer serves me.  With respect and gratitude, I silence fear and reach for trust.  You are welcome to sift my ashes to find your own peace.  The grains of sand have much to say and I gladly share, only asking you to use your own discernment, your own souls' affinity for truth, when seeking answers.   Seek your own sands of truth.   Truth wins, hands down.

New International Version

"What is truth?" retorted Pilate. With this he went out again to the Jews gathered there and said, "I find no basis for a charge against him.'

Isn't it interesting that the bible depicts Pilate questioning what truth is?  He is asking from his mind what truth is and then, from his heart he testifies to the truth of that hour, of that Great Man and Teacher Jesus, "I find no basis for a charge against him.", and they crucified him, first with their minds, and afterward their hearts bled.

Oh, that discernment could have formed itself out of dust and ashes and testified to all of us....  Oh, wait.  it did.  Jesus certainly came in truth, died in truth and testified from his heart, truths that will serve mankind until man is kind, kind to ourselves and then, kind to each other.

I am cultivating a kinder mind now.  I am serving a Higher Master now.  No longer will I serve the will of the mind, but the mind will serve my will.  I am the Master.  For this purpose we have come.  We have come into existence to experience the fullness of life and that is love, not drama, not struggle, not a lot of things.  You decide.  I am and I have.    ~*~

Atheists' Rights Supercedes All

While several wars are being fought simultaenously all over this world in the name of peace or religion or both, today a major, modern miracle happened.

U.S. Airways Airbus Flight No. 1549 enroute from LaGuardia Airport in N.Y. to Charlotte/N.C. landed safely in the middle of the frigid, current filled Hudson River. All 153 passengers and crew basically walked away unharmed. The geese that seem to have caused it, were obviously not so lucky.

Also today, Newton/N.J.'s town council ended their tradition of starting their meetings by reciting the Lord's prayer because Doug Radigan, a self proclaimed avowed athiest, told the council it was offensive to him. He requested a secular replacement.

The town council had no other choice since the U.S. Supreme Court ruled the religious prayers recited at government functions are in violation of the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution:

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances".

I say all of that to ask this...do you think anyone on that plane recited the Lord's prayer as it was plunging down into the river?

Do you think if they did, that God may have been listening?

I wonder what Radigan would've said if he was on that same plane.

He'll never know - not today anyway.

Miracles happen.

God lives, loves and guess what else?

While there is still breath in my lungs, blood in my fingertips, war in the world and freedom of speech in America I will pray/post/promote prayer, the Lord's prayer, and my Most High God in general - because I STILL can unlike a lot of people on this planet who cannot.

I am a warrior make no mistake - just try me.

God be praised . . .

"Our Father, who art in heaven, holy be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil".

For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever.

And 'the church' said "Amen".

Masquerade

Written by me - 10.5.07

I can see your profile
The mask you're wearing

It partially hides nonetheless
Your heartless and blank staring

Why are you pretending
It doesn't hurt that much

The sting is obvious
Anger the crutch

Telling yourself you're not in pain
Everyone thinks you're close to insane

You're killing yourself now
In everything you do

It's not you against them
It's you against you

Your portrayal deceives you
No one believes you

Stop pretending you don't know
Stop pretending you don't care
Stop pretending you're in control
Stop pretending you're not frail

Baby boy is broken
Into tiny little pieces, you

Are not too old to be told the time has come
Put down your head and rest some

We'll pick them up one by one
We'll move on from what's been done

The pieces are not too many to mend and to hold
C'mon young man, you're not too old

You're just in time for the mirrors reflection
All the hurt, all the rejection

When a kiss and a hug
Was all the situation needed

But your knee jerk reaction
A shoulder shrug pleading

Away from the inevitable
Seaming of the soul

It seems the years
Have taken their toll

The walls are higher than you ever intended
impenetrable as planned, anger-hate blended

Love can't get through
It's more than most can stand

Safe and secure
In the cocoon you've spun

With less than silken threads
You're not getting it done

Dissolving before our eyes
The barricade is breaking

Into tiny little pieces
Too many to hold

Hands growing cold
As cold as your heart

Pleading with it's rhythm
Stop, stop, start, start

Which will it be today
How long can you stay

In your skin
in the fray

Of yesterday's memory
It's stealing today

And you're persecuting the world

You say no
You've got a long way to go

Everyone else hasn't got a clue
But it’s still you against you

Inside your suffering soul
There's limitless strength
Beneath the jaded anger

God Bless America

Okay, so yesterday's blog posting was a poem I wrote on 9/11 2004. It's a little dated but somehow still appropriate. I am so angry at this leader. I never was a George Bush fan. Yesterday was no different.

I started working on Wall Street when I was 17 years old, right out of high school. I travelled through the World Trade Center every single day of my life on my way to my office. I loved the city. I loved downtown Manhattan. I loved the WTC buildings and having lunch everyday in their shadows. Taking the elevator up to the observation tower took a really long time. There was a certain swooshing sound that the elevator would make because it was moving so efficiently fast. When the doors opened and you got a glimpse of the entire city of Manhattan (a 360 degree view), the Empire State Building, Battery Park, the Statue of Liberty, Staten Island, New Jersey, the Hudson River.....it was majestic to say the least.

Of course, we all know that America was attacked by terrorists and my beloved WTC buildings were brought down in less than a couple of hours. I can still remember the sound of my voice screaming as I watched it on the news from the safety of middle suburbia in New Jersey. Thousands of dedicated workers that morning were not so lucky. They perished along with the stability that was our nation.

When I saw those planes flying into my buildings I realized that I had seen it before. It was sickeningly familiar to me...you see, I had had a nightmare that the WTC buildings were collapsing one night. I dreamt that I was cowering on a stairwell in the building. I was acutely aware of the fact that the building was going to come down. I ran and I ran down the stairs and outside and as I bolted away from the falling towers, the whole time I was looking over my shoulder at the impending doom. That was the most frightening nightmare I had ever had in my life. Until I had witnessed it first hand on ABC news.

Last night Hillary and Barack had their debate. Isn't it ironic that the first female presidential candidate should also have to contend with the first black male presidential candidate. This is a good thing. America is FINALLY open to considering two minorities for the presidential candidacy. I am a Hillary fan, although Baracks position is not that far off.

I distinctly remember when the Clinton's came to Wall Street campaigning for the American vote. Wall Street echoed with the sounds of Fleetwood Macs' 'Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow'. The streets were filled with cheers and laughter with the WTC buildings in the background. I knew he would win. His spirit was true. He cared about the people of America and the world at large. And yes, the Monica Lewinsky situation was inappropriate...but to impeach him? No way. That should've been saved for this administration.

Personally, I would love to see Hillary in the White House. She managed to keep her family together through the presidency and Bill's infidelity. That was his only crime. Sure, it was a whopper. But it was up to Hillary to forgive him, not the American people. I forgave him. I loved what he stood for as a leader. I love the fact that he is standing behind Hillary and perhaps a second go around for this leadership is what America needs to finally begin the healing process for real.

We did the Bush thing twice and twice we suffered. We are suffering. I am a proud American, but I have a very hard time swallowing the Bush Administrations debt that they'll leave behind, their war, their casualties, the hole that was once my beloved backyard. That's what I called it for years....the WTC was my backyard and then some. Now it's just a vacant hole filled with ghostly spirits of those trying to find their way home.

Don't stop thinking about tomorrow? Okay, but let us never forget yesterday.

God bless America.

A Real Terror Threat

Written by: Maria L. Pomponio


We’re not safe they say
But we are safer - wait - I’m confused

Perhaps we’ve been infiltrated from the inside out
From top to bottom, from the White House to the Refineries

Like we knew we would be because everyone’s got their Judas
Starting with the King

Why shouldn’t the first kiss come from the first family
It makes too much sense

This hypocrisy that is ours

At least the first Judas hung himself
When he realized his blood soaked hands

But our troops are still dying

And this leader pleads for just a few more coins
To bury in the first bunker in case of a real terror threat

Practice What You Preach

A couple of years ago I had a conversation with a young man (a very precious young man whom I love and whom shall remain nameless to protect his identity - but he knows who he is). I was inspired (or frustrated) to write this poem. Thought after yesterday's blog, it was appropriate to post.

Practice What You Preach

Advice can be like a dirty old smelly sock
That someone throws at you when you’re not looking.
Advice can be spewed out of park fountains at
Family picnics as you watch the chicken cooking.
Sometimes, advice can be as painful as the secrets
In our hearts themselves. . .

Listen closely! Here’s what you should do.
Remember to keep what I tell you between me and you.
In my opinion and in my experience,
I know the error of your ways
Even though I can’t get through one of those “Just For Today’s”.

No, I know better and I may not walk the way I talk
And true they almost outlined my body with that nasty white chalk.
But enough about me, you know all there is to know.
You know where I come from and you know where I go.
So what! Big deal! I can still give good advice.
So what if I’m still out there paying the price.
Your problem’s a no brainer, a tease at best
So before I solve your problem, give me a rest
I have to head downtown to feed at my lover’s breast
Yeah, you know the one

You think you’ve got me all figured out.
We’ll one day I‘ll think clearer and hear whispers instead of shouts
But for today, I know I can help, it’s all about you.
If you want to come with me, you’re welcome to.

Man, I can show you some things you’ve never seen before.
I’ll even show you my favorite place to score.
Trust me in twenty minutes you’ll be saying “what problem”?
And I’ll be too fucked up to remind you that I solved them.
I know I can help you, stick with me.
Two hours from now, free from freedom you will be.

Yes, advice can be like a curse or a poison
And disrupt the imperfect life you were born in.
Advice can snuff out the best of our voices
And cause us the continuum of wrong choices.
Advice can perplex the calmest of hearts.
Advice can kill our best efforts at fresh starts . . .

Yo, you think you know what I need?
All’s I see is a man chosen to bleed.
You want to give me advice about what I should do?
First take care of that shit on your shoe,
Or that plank in your eye or that spot on your soul.
Don’t give me advice until you’re in control.

You said “In my opinion and in my experience”, please
That my “problem’s a no brainer, at best a tease . . .”

If I want advice on where to score
Drugs or a whore
Armani off the truck galore,
How to slip into a coma from the rip roar for sure
How to steal a couple bucks from your Pops top drawer,
How to be on the outside only 50% cool
And be on the inside an empty lost fool,
How to use and abuse and manipulate,
How to never persevere and procrastinate
How to look down my nose at everyone
And lie to them all and say its fun
How to have expensive taste with no money in my pocket
To lie about my mad car, while at home I ride my rocket
Of hypocrisy and blind confusion . . .

Oh, I truly know where to go.

And thank you for showing up and offering me blow
Or whatever narcotic you’ve chosen today.
I’m sorry now, but I don’t play.

And next time wait and see if I ask
For advice on a subject or particular task.
I’m not interested in your twenty minutes or two hours from now.
I’m not interested in your k-hole or PCP pow wow.
I’m not interested in your blow or your slow death,
So save your advice and save your breath
And get out of my face.

Go do what you do best.
If you don’t know what that is,
You’ll find out like the rest.