Latest Poetry

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Rosemarie’s Ashes

Copyright 2017, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

She weaved me a braid from the hem of her dress
Made form her hands that heaven has blessed.
A hippy girl, Rosemary’s her name
So beautiful, young and not one to tame.
A Vermont lass and free spirited too
As her name implies, she;’s earthy it’s true.

She was weaving the braid while we spoke near my van
Telling me why and what was her plan
She was on her way to Portland Maine
Hitchhiking with, a fella the same.
Met him just, a few weeks before
But that’s how she is, being free to explore.

She was on a mission with ashes in hand
To a place of conception with a baby not planned
It was out of respect and compassion she had
To put him to rest in a place of his dad.

She lost this baby, in a crib death
Imagine the pain and the suffering of it?
Yet her town blamed her as if one unfit
Not knowing the hurt, how this blaming would sit
Just imagine if this, happened to you
If you’d have the strength for what she’d gone through?

Then she handed me some ash
Asked me to find a place, one special to last
I felt what a privilege she gave to this man
And thought, it was the writing on the side of my van.

Then we walked to the side of a supermarket’s wall
Sat on the grass to wait that’s all
For a ride they had coming and soon to arrive
When a cop pulled up, to question us why
And what we were doing so idly by.

He was answering a call by someones complaint
Just doing his job, so this picture to pant.
“So what’s going on, and what are you smoking?”
“Just tobacco”. we laughed, as if he was joking.

I got up and walked over, and pulled him aside
And told him about, her baby that died
And how she was hitchhiking to Portland Maine
With his ash and her love, with all that remains.

His face changed, and he offered regrets
As well as a ride, his heart was now set
That when he got through, he would take them there
And I knew for sure, he really did care.

They thanked him and said they were waiting for a ride
And I think we all felt, a sense we call pride
To come to a defense of this woman, her side
All with a love, no one could hide.

Then I left with the ash his mother gave
And I knew just where, I would bury; its grave
A place where Indians once had been
A place of peace, and now; this ash within.

And the braid she weaved from the hem of her dress
I keep it so I, never forget, this woman who chose
A man that she blessed, with the ash of her son;
Now lying at rest.


Between the Lines

Copyright 2017, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

Between the lines
The shepherd keeps
The lighthouse on
Those deadly reefs.

Between the lines
Before the speech
Before the tide
Makes its retreat.

Between the lines
Where truth resides
Are all the flaws
That cannot hide.

Between the lines
The heroes wait
Before the edit
Makes lines all straight.

Between the lines
Before the vetting
Before the polish
Before the netting.

Between the lines
The salt that shakes
Between the faults
The earth it shakes.

Between the lines
Where thoughts take place
To our chagrin,
To our disgrace,

In the lines
There’s one inept
An Ego filled
We can’t forget!

So protest those
Whose lines inflame
Of which I know
I need not name
Between these lines
_ _ _ _ _ .

Christmas A.M.

Copyright 2016, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

Christmas A.M 2016 With Arianrod.

She kissed me in the night, in dream.
So real, so loved, so it seemed.
I felt the wet from her lips, that pressed.
Like some revelation she had,
And something she missed.
(She being another I’ve wanted)

And when I woke, I knew she was here.
Like a thought received, even if, it was
Only my wish. i felt it the same;
In this way:

As if someone inside me, allowed her,
While letting me know, “SHE” was behind this.
With a love for me, I just couldn’t see,
With a kiss in the A.M, that spoke,
I am with you, now, just, let it be!

The Tower

Copyright 2016, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

The tower of Babylon
Rises again
Its name written
Its face within.

An edifice of power
Holding its ties
A Never-land
Blinding the eyes.

Blood letting
In profit and loss
Sheep sheered
Bow to the Boss.

Beware of those
That hold the Key
Keepers of
The Golden Bee
That lead the sheep
The Lambs can’t see
The fields they had
They once roamed free.

A laundry list
That suffer the masses
That pay for the Gold
For those in their classes.

It’s hoopla
Part of a show
For towers come
And towers go
A sepulcher
That time does know
That’s with us now
As tears: that flow.



Copyright 2016, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

Butterflies in my belly
Butterflies in my brain
Butterflies all around me
Butterflies just the same.

Liberation is here with them
With a peace I feel inside
Feelings that are a witness
This feeling I know I can’t hide.

I felt this once when just a boy
When whole this feeling I knew
And searched for it ever since
This love I know is true.

With butterflies in my belly
Butterflies in my brain
Butterflies all around me
Butterflies just the same.

Like now another provided this spark
To set my soul on fire
To find that place that is inside
The one I know is higher.

And it doesn’t matter
If one feels the same
For being in love
Has no one to blame.

For the mystery happens
In spite of who reigns
Like a butterfly that dances
When freedom it gains.

With butterflies in my belly
Butterflies in my brain
Butterflies all around me
Butterflies just the same.

Memorial Days With Dandelions

Copyright DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

You were cut down young
But your seeds grew the more
The field I found.
And when the trees laden
With leaves waved
The connection with all there is
Was made
When time stepped up
And all was saved
With the renewel of life
That is beyond this grave.

And so it is with Truth
And then with fields
With shallow graves in them
For life will sprout The More,
The When, connecting with
What has no end,
Like Dandelions our fields
Transend, populating from
What has been exploding with More,
Again and again….

Because She Is

Copyright, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

She’s sassy and brassy
And full of disguise
She’s holden and golden
It’s there in her eyes.

She’s moon and she’s sun
She’s the bullet in gun
She’s fire and water
When all’s said and done.

She’s the cat when she walks
The meow when she talks
And get’s what she wants
She’s stealth when she stalks.

It’s said she is wise
And beyond in her years
And if she should cry
There’s gold in her tears.

She’s more than she is
She has what it takes
While others they follow
She’s more than mistakes.

Her match is in heaven
Right there in her soul
She is such a woman
And one to behold, because; She Is.

Then and Now

Copyright 2016, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

1916 Easter Up Rising

There’s a part of me
That shares a part of you
You who stands up for freedom
Now in this 1916 review.

There is a monument that stands
In Castletownbere
Honoring those who stood up
For self- determination

One Ireland free as the Wind
That shapes the land
And all those within
One Ireland not separate
No doubt, just One Ireland
Within and without.

The world was at war
The royals at play
Their manifest destiny
Having its way
As it did to Ireland
As it does to this day.
Without the will of the people
The Irish, their say.

Remember the lads, who
Were left to die
And the mothers who bore them
Were all left to cry
When a hunger strike, while imprisoned
Did take, and a cold heart with teat
The lads she forsake d?

My mother a Boland
Her father was John
Shed many a tear
For their sacrifice wronged
But freedom is still, a spirit
That must, and cannot be killed
As in God that we trust,
And that Easter UP Rising
That was; just for us!

Alone With You

Copyright, DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

Alone with you, that’s where I am
Like a shadow standing still
Taking it all in
Feeling you completely
Feeling that I can.

Distance plays with my heart strings
Feeling what this heart brings
Opening where music sings
Your name now in everything.

And today tomorrow will sing this song
For knowing where it all belongs
Where it makes my heart strong
Staying with, for what I long.

And when that word comes to pass
Entering thoughts when long at last
THAT LOVE, will have its way
As it does this very day.

When two enter into ONE
When what is said has truly come
That is when the sun will shine
Through these eyes of yours when mine
And THAT LOVE finally true, eyes will be;
Alone with YOU.

I Kiss You

Copyright DC Bianchino, All Rights Reserved.

I kiss you
the night
and again
in the light
And carry you
making my way.

You that I feel
in my heart
that is real
and the mind
that gives it
its say.

As we journey to peaks
that have yet been explored
(that mystical mountain insured)
when the veil will be torn
and the Soul will adorn
when the two become ONE
and reborn.