Donna Ialongo

Donna Ialongo Poems

a man, complex in his simplicity has gone
unnoticed. his eyes touhed us like
a feather burnt too soon by the ice
of hate. his mouth too often breathed
...

it came stamping down the street
one heaving June (so thick my
tongue could slice the air)
...

three they walked
in one,
papa, fils, and spiritus not so sanctus.
the over image of a none-all smile
...

love is a nonsense poem
wreathed in black and
purple, sitting on a
gilded lily, making
...

i love
you love
his love is so big you
froze from the heat of it,
...

Every face fills me in liquid dreams
tasting in embittered aspirins their worth.
Forevering seas and the sun, though hollow
as an unclutched hand make love
...

we've spent our nights in dark communion,
hands lingering on warm words,
whispering in black and blue commas.
...

born in a rioting protest of umber leaves
was i
swathed in a bed of sterile sheets
marked for
...

with redded toes, she's
jumping on the lake.
...

this night
on skies peopled in strawberry ice cream,
one sun, father of a moon,
tossed his head in a rain-loved lake
...

love is
: rum in your stomach and
whistling the heat of it back through your teeth.
: eyes watering from formaldehyde
...

it came to man
like the green droppings
of the too-soon Xmas pigeon.
that is, quite nude, shy -
...

before the Elysian Fields
and venetian blinds
was he (am)
sitting on a sun
...

salut! grand nuit de la foi!
salut!
and blessed be this vulgar peace
of the darkened Mass.
...

yesterday,
being the push of another 365 fiasco,
was the saturday of lost identity.
football's answer to perpetual motion.
...

1) i like you in the winter
when your face is washed and is noxema.
2) i like you in the summer
when your face is sandy-gritty
...

Mothers and grandmothers
One mother, one grandmother
Your mother, my grandmother
The ladies of my life.
...

a sillywh
ite hole inthesky
is
C
...

The decision of my
Battle encloses
Me and the joy of
Suffering is upon me.
...

squealing snow splashes
love, wheezing and hardly
slushing as I crunch
my cares to little
...

The Best Poem Of Donna Ialongo

On The 100th Anniversary Of The Death Of Abraham Lincoln*

a man, complex in his simplicity has gone
unnoticed. his eyes touhed us like
a feather burnt too soon by the ice
of hate. his mouth too often breathed
words not known or too soon for our
closed ears. his work has been the
labor in tears of one-hundred years.
his love has been inhaled by the prisoned
free and exhaled thru their endless
walk to truth. his humbled hands once
held a world swiftly kissed by his
blushing mouth. his heart once
beat to the thumping rhythm of war
and now it beats in sorrowing peace
with mine. today no one remembered,
but god gave him a quiet tribute - a
century of years have folded one inside
the other, but today, suddenly in the rain,
on every reborn tree, there was a bud.

(April 14,1965)

Donna Ialongo Comments

Suchoon Mo 14 June 2006

Avery go odpo em an ice hole in the sky

0 0 Reply

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