Daughter Of Eve Poem by Joseph M Donatelli

How God cursed Adam when he said
I'll put differences between man and woman
Then never will you think the same
And disagreement shall be the name
Of the bond I make between you
Thou flesh and bone and wisp of hair
Shall live a life of labored care
Whilst I turn your loves to slow despair

I a man explain myself in stories
Take them on the face of it
There is no Freudian depth to it
These are my attempts to approach some knowns
A kind of middle ground between our minds
Rhyming speech and antecedents reach
But we cannot meet in the middle of
The canyon between our tough hormones

Daughter of Eve you cannot feel
How the son of Adam does perceive
His world and the way he reasons
His emotions do deceive your connecting
Fibers of fine text book psychologies
An XX chrome cannot read an XY chrome
We are not in the same genetic zone

I know me simply in complexity
I'm complex in simplicity I'm what you see
Hear what I say stop disrupting me
Listen I often answer in the sentence
Before you ask the question
If you would really really listen
You might almost know me
Listen to my details and there connections

This poem reminds me of the prism
That physicist in there science keep
That throws a shadow of the fourth dimension
Being three dimensional creatures
That's all we can ever hope to see
Know that in my honesty and love I grow
All I can ever hope to show you though
Is the shadow of my soul and so





















































































What could be said for any plot of land
Thats treeless just a piece of red clay sand
When black soil oak and spruce stands
Fill green woodlands with bark and trance
Landscape of live trees made for this chance
Build a thirty foot sailboat of oak and spruce
The stunning hardwood boat floats through
So breathtaking with its low polished glow

Planted in a Maine woodlot seedlings grew
Reaching through leaf gaps for sun brew
Future planking of rounded cellulose true
Filled bird wings of the hard woods flew
To wings called sails pulled as winds blew
Once Forrest the fast sailboat swims through
The whitecaped waves of deapest blue
This is a proper use for trees to come to

Now and in a generation or two sloops
Of the woods will still be sailing smooth
Mesmerizing all within view of the cruise
The forest stiff sails flying across drifts
White wakes and waves and high water rifts
Bright blue currants heaving hulls uplifted
We are coming about the wind has shifted
One small forrest was grown for this purpose.