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Archive for April, 2015

This Tent Is On Fire

Copyright 2015, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.
For Earth Day

The Moon circles
The circus tent
Circling the animals
In their discontent
Living in cages
Suffering the rent
While the moon
Circles free and
Quite ; content.

Now the beasts of
Burden carry the load
With cages increasing
From show to show
And the moon above
Watches things grow
And, when it is full
Seeing things they don’t

The handlers, the landlords
Leading them on
Teasing them daily
Just to perform
As the audience, passively
Wait in their lines
Thinking that everything
Is really just fine.

And the Moon just circles
(She’s a quiet dove)
Seeing the future
And destiny of
The replete, the deceit
While the captor
Claims love
But the tent is on fire
As seen from above.

Now the fire is burning
And it’s getting hot
Flames getting higher
Under the top
But the crowd is wooed
By the ring masters crop
In this never ending show
And those animals to lock

And the show goes on
And so does the game
All looking for something
And something to gain
Some for the wealth
With, more animals to tame
Others with HOPE of
Just to give it a name.

Yes, the moon will circle
When the fire goes out
And the animals in cages
Become part of the rout
But who will remain
When just ashes beget
And the show is over
And nothing is left?
This Tent Is On Fire!

All For Nothing

Copyright 2015, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

Muses and ruses
Wisps in the wind
All for nothing
As so in the end.

Sex and love
love and sex
Confused reused
Again and again.

Empty follows
Busy roads
Leaning and swaying
With heavy loads.

Truth and doubt
Just abstractions
For souls to shout.

With poetry and prayers
Lust in words
Shaping illusions
In voices when heard.

Songs repeat, hopes and dreams
Fate and facts, hide the screams
Alone traveling alone through time
Alone still, alone to find.

The lost the found
The meanings intent
Blind to the eye
In thoughts that are spent

With moons forgotten
In rivers that flow
All for nothing
For Nothing; to know.


Copyright 2015, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

There’s sheep in fields
And running roads
And dogs the sheep
And fields they know
To take them where
And when to go
With eyes that look
And lend to show.

There’s wind and walls
And yes pink cheeks
Goats who own
A mountain peak
Phantasmagoria at its best
For this is Ireland
Its weather will test
Like Keats who kept it close to chest.

There’s music in its very soul
Lest days forgotten their lyrics hold
A test of time for it is bold
Like crashing waves worth more than Gold
So hear this song its history beats
With fish and farm its mystery keeps
For those of us to surely reap
Where soul and heart the Irish meet.

And now I end with something more
As with this pen these words I pour
With Muse that takes a special seat
As here we both now get to meet
Her name I know I know it well
An Irish Goddess I here can tell
For in this poem right from the start
Twas her that led me with her spark
I always know she leaves her mark
And lets me know, she’s home ; in heart.