Verses a small collectio.., p.1
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       Verses: A Small Collection of Poems on Love & Life, p.1

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Verses: A Small Collection of Poems on Love & Life


  Copyright 2017 Anthony Pellegrino

  Table of Contents

  Part 1: To Walk Alone

  Part 2: A Poetic Discourse on Love


  This collection of verses is from years past when youthful na?vete played a role in my life. The writings are the ones that were not lost, thrown away, or among other items stolen within a desk drawer. Although one may classify the lines as poetry, I wrote most of them before I ever read a poem or had a true concept of "poetic structure". Furthermore, the following utterances were originally recorded on notebook paper, cocktail napkins, drink coasters, and other mediums receptive to pens and pencils. I kept the final written copies in Black Notebooks marked "Verses". The notebooks and most of the early poems are lost victims to time. These mere lines of connected words are a product of an introspective and philosophical mind. Although a psyche in a search for truth, the poetic mind is a companion to hope. I do not write poems anymore...

  Part 1: To Walk Alone

  A fool needs not his anonymity

  For one may never hide from solitude.

  Listen, has it ever been this silent?

  The Escape

  A couple solemnly walks

  Then stopping at a stone.

  A winter day's remembrance

  Of the one who is gone.

  The flutter of an eyelash

  To send a tear away

  From the fretful fragile source

  A reddened cheek to stray.

  It crawls along so slowly

  The destination near.

  A flit from the frosty lash

  Sends down another tear.

  The second tear to follow

  But captured by a kiss

  The first escapes off the chin

  To freefall in the mist.

  Living upon older days

  Young faculties to find.

  Existing in a youthful day

  But aged within a mind.

  Astute is the erudite

  Who realizes ignorance.

  Too old to be- too young to see

  Aged cognizance.

  I lean back unto the sky

  So far away my gleaming eye.

  I grasp unto a hand of air

  Indicative of our despair.

  Thus for now I shall exist

  Exist within a tree

  A tree which has given

  To perspicacity.

  But if I didn't breathe

  I'd never lose my breath

  And this tree shall never heed

  To an utterance of death.

  The Insane Poet

  From an institution a scream

  Cries for a revolution.

  A fallen mind's contribution.

  Yes, a breath I have spoke before

  But if then a fallen mind

  What is now rendered?

  I hear the call of withered will

  From the cellar I hear weeping

  Scarcely a frustrated yell.

  The persecuting empathy

  Upon feeble legs the burden

  And what of pain, may we learn?

  But there is not to be reason!

  Merely false axioms.

  Ah, the placating utterance

  The curse of self importance.

  Belief, another condition

  Heed thus a divine volition.

  I incessantly battle truth!

  I shall condemn opposition!

  But I shall condemn no person?

  May I question causality?

  Yes, to realize I am nothing.

  To digress from this a mental death.

  Thus speaks an insane poet...

  A walk in the rain, such peace I attain.

  I jump and wave in oddning guise

  Unto a man who cannot see.

  But many others passing by

  Wave unto, though never she.

  She passes, sweetly

  As the birds who fly discretely.

  I enter thru the edifice

  The edifying slur.

  Sylphonic greetings float along

  Arriving thus as words.

  I imbibe the syllables

  Again they dissipate

  Twisting, undeciphered

  Intoxicating the brain.

  I to sit befuddled

  Behind a wall, a glass.

  Marbles role in kindness

  I flutter she to pass.

  Foolish, quixotic

  A difference embraced.

  Mingling, intervening

  So much differentiates.



  I own no pictures.

  I have a memory and a mirror in case I forget.

  Look within the eyes of ingenuous intent

  A time for a bathing?

  A dirty child condemned to hell!

  I was cleansed before my education

  The living truth the abandoned role defied.

  It has led from purity to this insidious labyrinth

  The ubiquitous Lucifer looming 'round the corner

  He and I face to face, 'yes, follow me to hell!'

  And I have followed.

  Oh breasts of sweetest milk

  She, fashionably audacious

  To gracefully feast as the lion on her prey

  Swallowing my strength today.

  Onward thru perplexity

  Picking plump grapes along the way.

  Their succulence explodes

  Within my lustful mouth.

  She appears lying before me,quivering, screaming

  Hades' queen, the river flows as my soul bursts

  Cursed by anomalies.

  Augustine laughing, human hell.

  Thus we create, thus we falter

  And thus we are alone.


  Barefoot thru the grass

  To run within the trees

  Then lay my weary head- alas

  Upon a hill too steep.

  I look unto the clouds

  They move mystically

  Into forms that arouse

  My mind to wandering.

  The clouds across the way

  Looming dark and gray

  Billows full of moisture

  Stalking on their prey.

  A volition to consume

  Swallowing the light of day

  But I cherish deep and true

  For I know their moody way.

  These impending clouds

  Are taking back their sky

  And once again the rain to fall

  As tears from my eyes.

  So fresh and very soothing

  The rain falls from my face.

  For this I give gratitude

  To clouds of sullen grace.

  Let us run along the azure

  The faster, we can follow

  Until it comes upon itself

  An imagery to borrow.

  I shall live upon the breeze

  Floating along the scent of blossom

  The dissipating dandelion

  The breath of child.

  Listen to the rumbling

  If gray, then be it gray

  Insignificants of white

  As they say the mind to brain.

  But the crowds amass

  And I, I to fleeing.

  You were never there

  But of you I was dreaming.

  Ah- the piece of driftwood

  Sprawled upon the sand

  Until a voice undulates

  Set a sail again.

  (an innocent bystander)

  And I, confused by
the plight of human emotion, took unto flight, to find where the water meets the ominous sky...

  Kurt's Song

  I see no footprints.

  The breeze today has ceased.

  I left few among the place

  Where we never could believe.

  They could never know

  He knew not of me.

  Among the ones with saddened tongues

  Their physiognomy.

  Upon a tongue the dirges

  Poignantly lament a loss

  And I held her within my arms

  Our tears, our cheeks to touch.

  Somehow I have footprints

  So faintly they impress

  For day to day and night by night

  I wish a star to gleam

  Hoping so agnostically

  With my philanthropy.

  The circle ceased today

  Disintegrate to ash

  For this a love so lasting

  Shall never come to pass.

  The footprints which were four

  Then three then four again

  Forever have me longing

  For a lover and a friend.

  But now the prints of two

  So faint and how they fall

  Disfigured by the rain

  Of a blue cloud so small.

  The cloud has lost its vision

  The arrow fades as breath

  For the cherub archer

  Too ingenuous for death.

  A thought of self today.

  What of a thought without?

  Nothing impeding nature

  What would love exist for?

  Would love still live?

  This a helpless wish

  As footprints lead away

  Unto agnostic bliss.

  They'll return again someday!

  But never seen again.

  An elegy I contend

  For what is now pretend.

  They once stepped so deep

  Then so lightly they did creep

  A print from days of yore

  The sand shall feel no more.

  The three remain so cold

  So cold and solemnly silent.

  They've not a wish for love

  Nor a thought of violence.

  The blue clouds are dry

  The dirges are misplaced

  A tongue no longer mourns

  The arms will not embrace.

  Wishes to the stars

  Are merely memories.

  A past print of two

  Now walks with steps of three.

  The world without change

  Scarce thoughts of thee

  Nearly as the footprints

  never had been seen.

  I've learned an ancient secret

  With you I cannot share

  For this secret's so untrue

  But of this I'm unaware?


  To walk alone, merely as one

  Separate from a greater sum.

  Though if a mind will not conserve

  A precious thought of that observed

  Then it's a passion's sad effect

  To heed a system must affect

  And though, seemingly not to be

  He the system the system he.

  What is essential to survive?

  The medium which makes us strive.

  Thus yearning love and hope and dreams

  And fueling fear and lust and greed.

  But I contend the innocent

  We're lost with our intelligence.

  And missing is the innocence

  So lost within our ignorance.

  For it's this entity of self

  The other myths I shall dispel

  It has a soul feeling as one

  Not of the whole, the greater sum.

  A Blossom Defiled

  A temporary wakening to a permanent sleep

  Fresh drops of innocence

  Glisten tender blossoms of spring.

  But an infectious breeze will ravish the petals

  A tear not yet found, an innocence to stray

  Then a season commits treason

  And takes the rain away.

  oh, I so await the autumn...

  Please dim the scathing light

  With refreshing drops of banter.

  Then may the cold prepare for death

  In the passion of the winter.

  I lifted my head from the bed

  The room was still and silent.

  I heard an unfamiliar sound

  From outside in the distant.

  It crept up like the light of day

  Before making itself known.

  By the time I knew it footsteps

  They'd left- and I was alone.

  When you're walking all alone

  Thru a heavy winter snow

  You see a set of footprints

  Do you feel the less alone?

  For somebody not yet there

  Our footprints walk together

  Then followed to a street lamp

  And witnessed by the weather.

  Then the prints before me ceased

  Halfway across the river

  When I walked upon the bridge

  The thought had made me quiver.

  They went not left, nor ahead

  Thus I looked over the rail

  To fight the freezing river

  For a life- to no avail?

  But I didn't have to try

  For what was to be had been

  So onward I continued

  Thru the crossroad of an end.

  But I heard another thought

  From somebody yet to come

  For they had seen two sets of prints

  And then there was only one.

  I have built myself a kingdom

  It's fit for any queen.

  We pleasure in the finest gin

  We sip the choicest tea.

  I have built myself a castle

  Within a princess lives.

  She never deems to wear a crown

  Her royalty within.

  I have built myself a palace

  A peeress walks the floor

  With elegance and dignity

  Forever I'll adore

  I have built myself a mansion

  A parvenu my bride

  Her caring heart worth more than gold

  Though from the world to hide

  I have built myself a cottage.

  I love my maiden fair.

  I feel so safe in her embrace

  I have no other cares

  I have built myself a shelter

  It protects me from the cold.

  I have built myself a shelter

  And here I stay alone.

  Oh stand alone little blossom

  Bathe in the refreshing rain

  It is an early autumn for you

  And winter moves unyieldingly toward.

  The change of seasons, colors

  Weather, life and death

  And winter has arrived

  All too early & clear in heart and mind.

  I gaze thru the lovely rain

  My garden smiling, near bloom.

  I need one, there for me

  And after a blossom is placed a seed.

  The soothing peaceful rainfall

  The beautiful flowers of spring

  The changing of the seasons

  And a mind's futility.

  Whispers are lightly ushered thru windows ajar

  As a breeze softly speaking to fluttering petals.

  Listen closely, they lightly laugh

  Of a love gone astray, a dream laid to rest.

  And who am I to scoff a fallen dream?

  To realize the mind creates,

  And the mind takes away?

  Life, a cesspool of doubt and insecurity;

  Of fear, bruised hope, and love, & love is illusion

  But I watch her innocence rise and fall

  With the breath that moves her lovely bosom.

  The same breath of innocence

  That laid a kingdom to rest-

  That has tumbled the strong- who never was,

  Who doesn't care to be.

  Now let us end our daydream

  As autumn approaches near

  When leaves are falling from the sky

  As a soul of doubt and fear...

  Part 2: A Poetic Discourse on Love

  April, a kind month- to flowers and friends...


  Unto me as gentle rain

  A whispering soft snow.

  To glide across a moonlit pond

  To tap upon our boat.

  Sailing with the sunset

  Away a feather flees.

  Within her arms, upon the breasts

  A moment meant to be?


  They're a lovely pink, as the carnation

  And lusciously full, a soft temptation.

  Sending a whisper that graces the air

  Gentle the dove, a passion to share.

  A blue as a bird amid the white snow.

  They sweetly to paint a kind hearted soul.

  The flit of a lash, a glance unto me

  A raise of the brow, a heart to feel free.

  Sweet perfection, thin and thus subtle

  A little smile, the cutest wrinkle.

  A tenuous line, touch precious dimples

  Oh the countenance, beautiful, simple.

  A golden nuance, soft, provocative

  Flowing a touch, dangling the skin.

  The ends lie upon the light tender flesh

  Long and sensuous, to feel a warm breath.

  Yes, the foundation a thought rests upon

  As strong as life, but supple the fawn.

  Away the wet eye for extending grace

  Stable, delicate, a loving embrace.

  Firm, breathtaking, molded mounds of flesh

  So soft to the touch, upon my head rests.

  Unworthy my hands- simple perfection

  To soothe and arouse, a heart's affection...

  It is affection that now of I speak. This which renders submissive while gently lifting hearts unto eternal ideals- breathless, faint, willingly oblivious to society, to the world our mind creates. Oh how I strive to revel in the bliss forever. And this, nature's loveliest creation, it's more calming than the whispering brook- only heard within a silent solitude. It's more comforting than an April rain- cleansing the air, easing the sullen mind. It's sweeter than the softest melody- soothing the broken heart as well the beast. It's more lifting than a subtle sunrise- granting the world another day of dreams. But with a vibrant sunset, I digress. And I, when a child's curiosity, to surely seek out that which was not known. And I, who was told these feelings lustful, would I then be inclined to seek the lust? Yes, sex and admiration, the mind and the body, the mental and physical desires, needs, wishes for companionship, these were convoluted interventions. To place love high upon a pedestal and gaze upward in unbelieving awe, but only folly! Alone, though to alienate oneself, the tears fall soft as the April rain. They weave timid as the whispering brook. They soothe the heart as the sweet melody. To gently wipe them away with the dawn. To dream with the sunset, again they fall.

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