Declaration of Interdependence, on the occasion of the semiquincentennial

 

The Beast In Us

     In the past few weeks, a bright and beautiful muse reminded me of how time is timeless and how the Gods(desses), and we in their image, craft our existences with a mere thought. The thought can then, through our conscious intention, become an object such as art; in this case—music and poetry. And it was the particular nature of my muse's artistic expression that drew me back to the passion of my youthful angst that enjoyed unveiling the zeitgeist of the time through poetry and song. 

     The other day, William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell echoed to me. Finding one of my literature anthologies from college (my B.A. is in Lit.), I read that, as well as several other of his works, and recalled how much I love that time in literature. Both the restrictive nature of specific meter and rhyme scheme, as well as the use of poetry for sociopolitical protest, always appealed to me in the paradox of working within strict parameters while letting loose the flames of righteous indignation. I largely abandoned this type of poetry in 1995 after being harshly criticized by my professor and Pulitzer Prize-winning contemporary poet, Stephen Dunn, who told me that my writing was “antiquated” and that I should try writing in free form. 

     We find ourselves in a particularly volatile and uncertain place in today's world. Our nation, here in the U.S., stands at risk of losing its democracy, the very essence of the foundation for which we fought nearly 250 years ago, freeing us from the tyranny of feudalism. Our country stands on the principles of the U.S. Constitution and especially in its Bill of Rights, and in true form, our country has used its right to Free Speech to protect our voices and effect change or make corrections. Should we begin to devolve to a time when the human brain primarily consisted of its hindbrain, lacking a frontal lobe and prefrontal cortex to intelligently think about our choice for barbarism (the fight or flight state of animals' survival-of-the-fittest), we can collectively gather, raising our arms and voices, and shout, "We the People!" in our demand for an equal society under the law.

     It is in the spirit of my literary forebears (rest in peace, Mr. Dunn, forgive my transgression) that I present a work-in-progress of 8 stanzas of 4 rhyming couplets, in iambic tetrameter, voicing how I feel about the immediate threat to the sovereignty of our Democracy.

Image generated by Gabrielle Cianfrani's poetic prompt,
in the spirit of Blake's etchings,
rendered by our robot overlords

The Beast In Us
Scrawled in the Ashes of Democracy

By An Angry American Bitch

Through battered gates of Now, I trod,
Where Reason’s corpse lies cold, unshod,
A land of trolls and liar’s din,
Where fascist brutes creep forth in sin.
The ICE-Men march, their chains a-clank,
To cage the meek on Freedom’s bank,
Their raids spotlight a savage might,
Cruelty masked in Star-Striped light.

Below, the DOGE-beast howls and bays,
circus of frauds in frenzied craze,
False prophets with a vacant stare,
Preach wealth to rocks, to empty air.
Palantir’s eye, all-seeing, gleans,
A Silicon God, wet data dreams,
Surveils the soul, and binds the free,
Spying lens, bends Liberty’s knee.

The pious swarm, with crosses high,
Their gospel twists, their tongues belie,
The religious right, a zealot throng,
Would bomb the world to prove it wrong.
Anti-Life, they raise their flag,
Books to ash, and thought to slag.
The tanking market, planned decay,
To fatten lords while serfs obey.

USAID, peace-pimp of yore,
Gets axed for laughs by budget Whore,
Allies wince, foolish tariffs slap,
Consumers caught in price war trap.
Schools churn dolts for TikTok reels,
Health’s a scam for snake-oil deals,
Disease we once kept well in line,
Co-opted by reviled Schwein.

The Constitution frays and splits,
A parchment torn by power’s fits,
Democracy, a threadbare jest,
Hangs bleeding on a tyrant’s chest.
Across the globe the darkness spread,
From Putin’s reign to Xi’s red thread,
The ballot box, a hollow shell,
Echoes screams from Freedom’s knell.

Democracy, her bleeding feet,
Now drags bare through every street—
And none will lift her from the dust
For fear–AI and Elon Musk.
The Tree of Liberty was felled

By hands that once its branches held.
And still they cried, “Land of the Blessed!”
As babe was torn from mother’s breast.

In old time Hell, the devils danced,
But here they rule, their spears advanced,
Will camps return, the ovens hum,
While patriots beat a deafened drum?
The empty ghosts in MAGA caps,
Applaud as rights are left for scraps,
And as We Woke and rose to trust
Sun set on Freedom, Truth, and Just.

We drown in jetsam deep in mire,
Our Inferno lit by human fire,
The past and present join as one,
Damning all time, a world undone.
No angel comes, no savior’s call,
Just we, the fools, who forged it all—
A satire? No, a mirror’s gleam,
Of sleeping world’s fascist wet dream.

Gabrielle Cianfrani

April 5, 2025

Love Verse

 

 

When I am alone, I sing songs to him. 

Do vibrations travel through subatomic airwaves at the speed of sound,

that along with intention, 

Kinetically find their way to his temporal lobes, 

so he thinks that the music is 

always coming from 

within?

When I sing to him, do my songs bring his heart to reverberate like a million 

electric kisses that flutter his particles into 

harmonic resonance,

circulating through his being,

attracting all of the love he is

into a mass of energy, 

exploding back to me,

so that we are entangled

in the Universe’s dance—

like old lovers?

Are my songs to him like photons of light

that cannot be confined, or

destroyed;

escaping the illusion of

Time and Space?

Do my songs ignite shadows,

revealing a brilliant color prism

from crown to toe that illuminate his 

Core, 

like blasting off with DMT,

architecting a spectacular cathedral 

of expanding intricacies, 

emanating and adding to his own

Inner Light—

pure love radiating truth that

Sets Fire to the Cosmos within?

“I only want to hold you, I don’t want to tie you down, or fence you in the lines I might have drawn. But I’ll still sing you love songs…”

 

Gabrielle Cianfrani, 2023

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Core

The Core

For every night my weary head falls 

on pillows as soft as my broken heart;

For every morning the radiance of brilliant

sun sneaks its beams through safe darkness

 of my shattered window pane;

I fall and rise, encircled in Love,

pure and true

to share with You; 

not expecting, but sending wishes to Heaven 

Illimitably expansive, intimately treasured,

circular flow, everlasting freedom

elemental breath of life



Gabrielle Cianfrani 
July 25, 2019

Transmutation

FuturePeak, Boulder Creek, CA July 2018

Dancing alone, wide, green eyes gazing up

starry, wondrous sky, expanding;

Twirling around, counter-clockwise motion, 

arms grounding, extended hands,

compassionate Universe,

transforming Ego,

longing for flight—

Heaven 

Heightening True Love to raise like seeds,

blown from trees, afloat, featherlight,

lifting above suffering

Earth’s dreamscape,

Where separations enmesh;

Fear evaporates like intense

summer storm, quickly dissipating into

atmospheric tranquility

You, guiding your feet to meet me,

dancing your own, unique rhythm, 

vibrational ascension,

holding each timeless moment

freedom for all beings;

Composing creations, interwoven like Tabriz and Kashan,

collaborative, masterful designs—

bliss and peace 

Fly weightless, infinitely deep,

high above temporal clouds, 

obscuring neither pure mind nor soul;

contented abandonment of aloneness,

intermingling independent movement;

spinning clear light, resonating,

strumming heart strings— 

One Song

  

No-Bull Apes

Princess Ida had a thought inside 'eh:
"The ape-to-man master plan
was flawed, my gawd!"

Ida know
nothin' has changed...

Time ain’t swinging on vines, 

She’s hanging steady, so woman be ready!

Eternities of pounding chests upon her breasts

Beating fists, Old Silverback say, 

"Just try and run away."

A Lady Fair of Lineage High

Limitless

It is nearly 3 am,

I just returned from roasting coffee. 

Was going to strip my clothes off and jump into bed, 

but I thought about all that smoke from all that coffee just

permeating my pores,

the smell of the burned off sugars, oils,

the deli and its deep fryer—  

Sleep would be restless

if I dove into my brushed cotton sheets, 

covered in fleece and feathers;

And when I stepped into the shower, 

it felt so good, 

melting away the harshness of life 

like marshmallows dissolving in hot chocolate;

thankful for the water running over my body,  

breathing

long, deep exhales with audible 

Ohhh and Ahhh;

Adequately wet, 

I picked up the patchouli soap, gliding it all over 

rinsing as I went— 

turning to let the spray reach my left side, 

standing in that one position for about

30 seconds;

And I thought, “I always do this, stand like this,

but do I ever switch sides and let the right side of 

my body feel the long, 

penetrating heat?”

No, never.

I say that in full confidence, for

when the water hit me,

there was an awakening—

Sensations I had never felt before

and I wondered in an instant

"how many other ways do I limit myself

without conscious decision;"

how much of life had I missed?

A profound sadness swept over— 

tears, feeling sorry for my lack of 

flexibility;

or like a child 

who cannot sleep for fear she will 

miss-out on fun 

(God, what have I missed?)

until I realized

that there was vision in the 1st place,

an openness of spirit, 

a love and thirst for life;

having the ability to tell myself that there was something more

in my human experience,

trusting myself,

to turn the other way without

fear 

to know true

Freedom.