Showing posts with label Gabrielle Cianfrani. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gabrielle Cianfrani. Show all posts

Thursday, July 25, 2019

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




Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Love Through My Ages


     When I was twelve, going on thirteen, as the leaves fell from the trees in 1988, our Language Arts class was asked to write a sense poem with "love" as the topic.  We were unaware that our teacher was also choosing a poem from each grade to be entered into a city-wide poetry contest.  
     I was truly the kid who used to make wishes at the wishing well and sit in the warm sun, gazing (no, really, I gazed... seriously), thinking about lovely nature, and daydreaming of spectacular adventure.  So, this was the poem my adolescent mind generated, complete with my current feelings after each line in parentheses:

Our Love
Love is a wonderful color, beyond explanation.          
(Yes, because you couldn't think of any.)
It tastes like caviar and chocolate covered cherries.         
(AND champagne wishes?? Oh my God, I'm Robin Leach.) 
Love sounds like beautiful music being played at oceanside by a goddess.          
(Is she sitting on a rock, strumming a harp, perchance?)
It smells like a garden of roses with the scent of sweet perfume.
(At least I wrote this before Bon Jovi laid on his bed of roses.)
It looks like man and woman, together, forever embracing.         
(until someone farts...)
Love makes me feel like my heart will pop out at any moment from the excitement.
(and this makes me feel like I want to vomit from all the cliches.)

     Four years later in 1992, I was on to sonnets- boy, did I love Shakespearean sonnets.  There are still a lot of filler words being used.  Notice that the material has taken on a slightly more mature tone and introduces the idea of turmoil in unrequited love.  I think I wrote this for a teacher- a major crush on the super-hottie-young-wrestling coach who was only 26 or 27 at the time... I actually remember writing this poem in the typing lab and printing it on the dot-matrix:

Unreachable Lover
This night that passed, I felt again your touch,
It was as grand as a warm summer's eve.
Your porcelain, red lips I've missed so much;
These tears, again, they will flow when you leave.
An exchange of thoughts and hearts once again;
These moments I anxiously do await;
Until then, on other days it will rain;
Perhaps, this is my unchangeable fate.
Although not true, all my dreams seem so real;
It oft hurts to wake to an empty bed;
These visions were ones I, indeed, could feel;
There must be a way all these would be dead.
Can you understand my feelings for you?
Just know one thing, all love expressed is true.

     Then, in 1995, I had my first, major break-up with a boy.  We actually still keep in touch and he agrees that he treated me miserably... though I was a stupid, little girl.  Anyway, for about a week, I hated this guy for breaking my heart:

Through tragedy, my hopes have gone,
No longer do I feel the pain;
A numbness in my every touch;
Now, I know no other way.
Viciously-
my mind spirals
downward, further
Until it hits the frosty sweat
days spent
future's past-
Thanks to you, I've learned this love
Thanks to you, I feel no pain,
And so to you, a cheery toast,
"Anguish and sorrow will here remain
with you."
The candle drips,
my spirit rips;
Fills up with a shuddering hurt;
Screams and blood,
Confusion, madness,
Black tears-
Isolation;
And it's all thanks to you.


No venom, angst, or insanity there, kids. So, I began to lighten up a little when I, again, found love in 1996:


I wake in the morning
feeling your gentle kiss
pressing my lips--
I smile
my spirit, again, knows
joy
freedom to soar
through eternity with hearts
open
souls united
wishes granted--
a spirit so high
birds cannot follow
but together we climb
together in peace
harmony--
knowing love
seeing beauty in others'
eyes
learning that existence
is enough to love
to give love
to forever
love.


     Then, I was married and in 1999, I gave birth to my first child and "Love" took on a whole new meaning:

Julia Love
My bright angel baby--
shimmering happiness
exploding into stars
shooting across the sky,
falling upon wide eyes,
transforming into dreams.
Kiss a delicate cheek--
warmth of a thousand suns
penetrate, melt the soul,
lift it to the heavens
delivering to God--
a universe of love.

    Finally, I began writing about universal love- making love to the entire quantum universe- immersing, superimposing, all of me into and onto all of it.  No longer limited by earthly love, I decided to branch out and expand the definition:

Body Electric

Turn on my Body Electric,
come-- brush against my quarks,
a chemistry explosively 
revealed after dark.

I wish to be your lightning rod,
come ZAP! me in delight,
come in, explore, there's so much more,
find vision without sight.

So long, I've searched through galaxies,
and foraged through a maze
of lifeless, empty energy
forced stunted by a haze.

Get warped, consume my juicy space,
take journeys in my mind,
wrap warm lips around every
particle you can find. 

     I continue to write love poems- though, likely, they will continue to reflect my love of Nature.  I haven't changed from the little girl who used to lay in the grass and search for bugs, cloud watch, and smell all the neighbor's tulips and daffodils on the way to school in the springtime- so much that she'd be late for 1st grade almost every day.  
     In fact, all this daydreaming and reminiscing about love has occupied my time all day today...  










     










     


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Immortal













Aching pain drills its way deep to the center of her
solar plexus,
burning and twisting like a dull dagger,
thrust and lingering--
no helping hand to
release
agony;
Grasping, gurgling,
choking asphyxiation--
so much pain,
so much pain
pulsating with every broken
heartbeat,
pleading for departure;
Sinking in deep mire,
the floods overflow,
unable to drink from the fountain of
life.
Isis waits in futility for her to come, sit,
be lavished upon the throne,
instead,
eternity incinerates to ashes
when Fear impregnates,
casting torment,
invoking deaf angels
to carry her to Heaven or
Hell,
writhing, shrinking in abandonment--
Theseus found no joy in Ariadne,
and Dionysus has chosen
another.

Gabrielle Cianfrani
September 14, 2011
10:55 P.M.