Pasquale DiMeola Poems

Come bring us all a clown or two
A joker or a jester
Too many faces looking blue
Allowing gloom to fester
...

Between the closed lids
(perhaps a microsecond)
When computed mathematically
Over the coarse of a life span
...

There is no shame to bow your head down to
Nor Knots as twisted as the Gordian
In which your choices narrow for the few
Street performers tapping the accordion
...

With the greatest acrobatic pivot
On the tallest tree sight unseen
Peruses Sumatra's Asian Palm civet
For the choicest ripe cherry coffee beans
...

Infant child crawling among the cadavers
Knee deep in the sanguinary sea of mortality
Coos at limbless sculptures marbled abominable
...

We are born unto a mother
We will die without a mother
Flung to an oceanic void
...

There are no hidden agendums
Preventing you from the discovery
Wasting away in the delicate chambers
Of your vulnerable heart
...

It is the blare of a saxaphone
Sounding like an infant in the night
Agitated by the encompassing darkness
Kicking the imaginary lid
...

'Loving is never so simple'
Said she with blushed cheeks and dimple
'It travels a zigzag pattern
Mystic like olde gas lanterns'
...

When you whisper a weary 'I love you'
With a content stare of love's aftermath
And we lose ourselves in a sky so blue
Having emerged from a romantic bath
...