In fair Verona where Will set the scene
Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down.
Two households both alike in dignity
Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground.

When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance
Events were set in motion that, perchance,
Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride
but ultimately result in her suicide.

With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead,
And Capulet and Montague estranged.
Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed
not knowing of her loss of maiden-head.

Romeo was banished for his crime,
a sin for which a peasant would have died
Their two households, joined because they wed,
remained divided by their foolish pride.

Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air,
oppressive in the absence of a breeze.
With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead,
as if struck down by some unknown disease


Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet
Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets.
A draught of deadly poison he obtained
So they might sleep together once again.

When Romeo met Paris at her tomb,
Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead.
Would not the world have been a better place
if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead?

Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down-
the only son of Montague now dead.
Perchance just then fair Juliet revives
Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead.

Authorities, arriving at the scene,
could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost.
Capulet and Montague were reconciled
Their amity bought at a fearful cost.

This is the story of my Juliet;

Of her Montague and his Capulet.

Roses smell sweet with no care of their name,

But with “Montague”, this just isn’t the same.



As a cruel joke, fate bonded their hearts,

For fate knew too well that they’d be torn apart;

Torn apart like the brawling in the public square,

Where Montagues and Capulets disagreed there.



I am the one whom Romeo loved,

Before he’d first seen his Capulet dove.

It happened quite fast, and inside the year,

We were something akin to the three musketeers.



We knew if the secretive lovers were caught,

They’d both be destroyed; impaled on the spot.

So I covered for them, and I helped them along,

And I did my best to sing over their song.



I witnessed the wedding, the friar’s compliance

In hopes that the families would form an alliance.

And while I had my doubts, I kept my lips sealed;

I allowed them to hope the tooth fairy was real.



Soon after that, I was with Romeo and his friend,

When Tybalt came along and caused Mercutio’s end.

I ran after Romeo, begging “Please! Use your head!”

But it was to no avail, and soon Tybalt was dead.



So Romeo was banished, and I sat with his wife;

I comforted her as she wept of her strife.

She was almost alright, but fate slipped on its gloves,

And she was betrothed to a man she couldn’t love.



Three times, I convinced her to put down her knife;

“You can do this, Capulet, don’t you take your own life!”

I spoke with the friar, and he had not a clue,

Till I formed a plan and a mysterious brew.



I sent a letter to Romeo, warning him of her sleep,

And so Juliet drank into slumber most deep.

Two days went past, then I felt my heart stop-

My letter had been returned, and Romeo’s address dropped.



I tripped a few times as I sprinted towards her grave,

All the while howling out Romeo’s name.

I leapt across ditches, I dashed around trees,

And I fount Montague, fallen to his knees.



“She is pure beauty, even in her death,”

Said Romeo as he took his last breath.

I lunged, and I screamed until my throat bled,

But bleed as I might, Romeo was now dead.



Juliet yawned, and it turned into a cry,

As the sight of his body burned into her eyes.

I stood up, hands shaking, and reached out to my friend,

But I knew this was a wound my soft words couldn’t mend.



“Juliet, don’t,” I pleaded weakly.

She shook her head sadly, said “I’m sorry, Rosaline.”

I held her small frame, and I felt her depart,

As she drove her own blade into her broken heart.



Montagues and Capulets sat together that day,

And they mourned their children and regretted their hate.

I stood up, though it pained me, and they looked distressed

At Juliet’s blood that soaked through my dress.



“This is your fault!” I yelled hoarsely at the lords.

“You ran your own children through with your swords!

If you are so noble, ordained from above,

How could you destroy their lives and their love!?”



“Don’t you dare let their sacrifices end in vain!

They were my friends, and they died so you’d change!

I hope you make peace, because your bigotry

Took Romeo and Juliet away from me!”



So it was, that the families have since lived in harmony,

But that is something that now hardly matters to me.

A rose by any name would still smell as sweet,

But if “Montague” was different…





This would not be a tragedy…

we kissed.
"are you happier now." you said.
nobody's ever going
to
          love
                    me.
but at least sadness doesn't devour me as easily.
i got thoughts to banish the
          sadness
and
                    pain.
the only thing i've ever wanted was for someone to love me.
it's a tragedy.
this is a love story that will end like r + j.
but unlike shakespeare, my brain isn't dead.
i will fight for love like the capulets and montagues.
i will die for this love to last.
and i will do anything just to make you happy.
but yet,
                    i'm
still
          not
loved.
it's impossible for someone like him, my romeo whose eyes are darker than the night sky,
to fall for a vulnerable juliet, who on the inside is a weak, emotionless girl who doesn't ever
get
what
she
wants.

A POETIC MONOLOGUE

Romeo, romeo
wherefore art thou Romeo
Why are you Romeo?
Why must I be attracted to Romeo?
Was it God that made me this way?
The Christians will scoff
and they will judge
and they will say
“It's a choice that you yourself make”

Is this what you believe?
That every struggle I go through,
every ignored prayer I've ever prayed,
every tear I cried,
was all happening by my own choice?
You would dare to sit there
and hold me in judgement
and tell me that none of my feelings are real?

And you tell me that I have a choice to make,
that I can choose life or choose death.
Choose who you will follow!
As for you and your house,
you will serve the LORD.
And I came to the conclusion
that's you're absolutely right.
I have a choice to make,
and here is what I have decided:

I choose life.
Life lived how I want to live it!
Not dictated by someone else's morals
handed down to them by some
ancient blood god.
No, this is life as I choose it!

A life of loving someone
until you feel like they are a part of you.
A life of selflessness
in that you would die just to save them,
A life of laughter,
of tears,
of fights,
of make ups
and tender moments.
Is that really all that different
from what you have?

I choose to break out of the mental *******
that you programmed into me
throughout my entire life.
I choose to believe that our Creator
would not give us the ability to love like that
and then punish us eternally for doing it.
I choose to break free of fear
of stigmas and prejudices and ideas
that make no logical sense.

So you asked me my choice,
and now you have it.
Ostracize me!
Label me!
Gossip about how perverted I am
among the other church hens!
Your ******* will no longer hold me back.
Your scare tactics and your unreasonable hatred
will only add fuel to the fire of the rage
that you yourselves have kindled.
Perhaps you could even say
that my anger is fueled by the hell fires
that will one day consume me.

There should be no shame in loving Romeo.
As Juliet said as she stood there,
her love far below,
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name, 
Or if thy wiltnot,be but sworn my love, 
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”
Montegue and Capulet,
their love forbidden.
Their families against them.
And one said to the other
“Forsake those who oppose us to be with me.
Or if you will not forsake anyone,
then I will forsake those who discourage me.
To be with you.

That my Christian family will ostracize me
when they find out
does not bother me.
That many friends who are Christians
will suddenly have no time for me
does not bother me.
What bothers me is that you could be so cold
while claiming to have the love of God
that you would treat people this way.
Where's your compassion?
Where's your mercy?
God commanded you
to have those things too.
I guess picking cherries
doesn't just happen in orchards.

I wish I had a voice.
I wish I was someone that people listened to.
I would tell people to love without question
and NEVER
let anyone
tell you who you can love.
Stand up and be proud,
and proud of the ones who love you so much.
Grab life by the *****,
if you'll pardon the expression,
and stand up for what matters to you.
Show those who oppose you
that you love this person so much
that you would gladly forsake being a Montague
to be with them.
And that they would happily leave behind the Capulets
just for an opportunity to hold hands with you.

That I found someone
I would spend the rest of my life with
should be a happy moment for them.
That they'd turn it into such a moment of sadness
is heartbreaking beyond words to express.
Oh I'm not a member of your family anymore?
Oh I should lose your phone number?
Well played, Christian brothers and sisters.
Well played.
But I will not be discouraged.
I will not be swayed.
Must I forsake the Capulets to be with my love?
Fine.
So be it.

But let it be known now
that I will not be silent.
I will not cry off until
injustice has been broken
and humanity's darker side
falls into a dark grave
dug with it's own ignorance and hatred.
Until every person is free under the law
until every voice raised against us
finally falls silent.

Equal love, equal rights.
Peace, brothers and sisters.

O come
gentle persons all
and listen to the woeful tale
of an unfortunate lover

1
I pitied Cinderella
and knocked at her door
when everyone was away
and I sang:
Come, run away with me
and I shall look after you -
all the days of my life
all the days of yours

Get lost,* she said.
I’ve a premonition
of glass slippers
and Princes and castles

2
And so I went to fair Verona
to see if Juliet would
give me her hand
but it was her father
who showed me the toughness
of his servant’s hands

3
And ah, I went to Rapunzel
and I said:  Oh, let down your hair
and I’ll come to you;
and I’ll find a way for both of us
to run away to better lands


Get lost,  she said
You don’t look like a man
who can afford to get
me the best shampoo
and golden diamond-studded hairclips -
new ones everyday
for my hairdo

4
And so I waited
for Cleopatra
till Brutus and the conspirators
stuck their daggers into Caesar
and I went to her mansions
but the guards seized me and they said:
You ever heard of Cleopatra’s needles?
Where’d you like us
to stick them in you?


5
and so, desperate,
I went to **** myself
back in Verona
in the family crypt of the Capulets
and woe is me -
I really don’t know why -
but I’m thrown into prison now
*‘for the ****** of two’

You dot the i's
and call yourself  
modern day romeo
coming to sweep me off my feet
coming to zap my heart
with lightening bolts
of awareness
awareness of you

Yet you never once
told me a poem
melted my heart with haiku's
or moved me with impossibilities

Never once has it occurred to you
that capulets and montagues don't click
because you always had your way
you're a modern day romeo
full of narcissistic poison
melting off your logic
revealing every chiseled muscle
that you think
will make your Juliets
melt

Oh romeo, romeo
where for art thou?
Show these modern newbies
the ways of articulation
the ways of seducing without the flesh
the ways of making eyes glow

oh romeo,
where for art thou
for the romance
I seek
is long
forgotten

(Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale)


From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had  in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.*


( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream,

Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform.

Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson.
Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct.
Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet.

Mario William Vitale
1 Winfield Drive
Wolcott, ct 06716

A Beacon Of Light
Written by: Mario Vitale
A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need !

Can't help but to claim..,

Some sense of identity,

Stregnth and encouragement only come from above !



Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull..,

Lieth frightened but still yet adrift !
In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish,
A true source of hope,
Yet a most triumphal beam !

This beacon of light shineth forth,
Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand..,

To the most sparkling of radiance !


(2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale
Home for the holiday from New Orleans,
with Mother and Father at the tiny
drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany
table with the gold, grinning claw feet;
Father, choler- red-in the-face, short-
sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing
as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry.
Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father :
“Do you think Moll Flanders was a *****?”
(I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.)
I am silent before their replies.
Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.”
And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin
as paper and the rose- colored bowl
of blown glass sitting on the silver stand,
half- filled with water.)
“How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is
to have a thankless daughter”


(3)

Song of Spring
Today I heard a robin sing
heralding the coming spring
A song of exultation to the sky
an ode to earth's awakening

I saw a willow on the hill
It's branches greening in the sun
and all the earth seemed hushed & still
sleeping streams began to run

I heard a softly rising breeze
whispering through the grass
singing through the still bare trees
waiting winter's chill to pass

I saw the sun, so bright and warm
warming the earth after the rain
the buds and leaves, no frost to harm
at least, at last, it's spring again.

(4)

The Ancients
It's my last day with the old giants
In mourning I hike the lost trails,
sniffing the aroma of the bark,
that cinnamon of the forest
Under tepees of wood
in a membrane of shadows,
I stalk the earth, its mammal traces,
its elusive tracks,
to sit on a fallen log
where spiders macramé,
moss sloping to my knees
unaware of invisibles within,
grubbing in their tunnels
A lizard taps my foot,
responding, I muse to its touch,
my thoughts like Indian visions,
And when daylight mushrooms into night,
and an owl hoots from cedar,
I still sit with a lizard on my shoe
Huddled with the ancients of the woods


(5)

Epiphany
Written by: Mario Vitale
It clings to the cliffed shore,
to the wintered face of the thistle path,
to the fingers of the old man's glove
as he waves his memory homeward

In that breath between come and go
she moves up from the bay;
gold turns her stride,
the line of her dress,
the soft sea pulling at her feet

When he reaches out
and the frail birds fly
and the sun and the sky
have married deep into the sea, it clings

Even as his shadow threads retreat,
it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist


(6)

A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell
Written by: Mario Vitale
Oh blessed hope !

Both hardly a believable dream,
Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street...
Send the troops home !
There is no clear reason for them to roam..,

These are desolate times !
For we have chosen ill faded rhymes..,
The casualties are enormous ?
For a stated cause that clearly atrocious..,

A mother's cry as the door chime rings,
A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings !
Let us look above to all the heavenly love..,
Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder..,

Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder,
Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag,
In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil...
As the sun heats up,


Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil...
In the vast game of life,
One's time is so very brief !
The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief..,

Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf..,

Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another,
To never give into the finish line..,
Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out !
Like a famous fighter in his final bout !

Time will tell of the return home,
To the open arms of a loved one !

(7)

A Valiant Knight
Written by: Mario Vitale
A Valiant Knight

Death springs a new day basking in the breeze
In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place
A far off castle in the mountains away from it all
A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling
Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise
A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight
He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity
The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura
A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility

For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy
Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy
A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust
Often they would disagree on who it was to serve
A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand
Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere
For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy
The maiden would often come forth and see

For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before
Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne
A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night
Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet
Having a way of words that he would often share
The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love
A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom
The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules
Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good


(8)
Hampton Beach

The smell of fresh fry doe
Time had elapsed playing at the casino
Fresh lobster with a side order of fries
Those spacious wonderful sky's
Down at the shell the continental were playing
A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting
Flip flops and the sound of laughter
A playground for kids in the middle
The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head
Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer


(9)

God's World
It is raining again.
Summer will be over before it ever gets here
Thunder rolls far away, drops
hit the windshield, the sky turns gray

The Sunflower, the blue
Delpinium, the white
Stinkwood drink the moisture
greedily. The green and silver

leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the
wind turns them round and round
The creek flows on, oblivious to
the change in the weather.

A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a
towering mountain
Three cows slowly wend their way homeward. It is dusk.
The gray clouds lift and the sun bursts through,

before sliding behind the hills for the night
It is God's World. He gives it to us to enjoy and to share with each other


(10)

Jake's House
There was a man whose name was Jake
Who had a house upon the lake
Every morning he would wake
And for breakfast have a piece of cake

He had a private fishing hole;
He always used a long cane pole
He fried his fish on red hot coal
And served it in a great big bowl

For a pet, he had a cat


(11)

In The Zone
Written by: Mario Vitale
In The Zone

whispers...
through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear
filled with angelic fervor on it's textual base
yet we dig much deep then ever before

cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know
still we stand idle as the average novice introduces its spell
along again then the sadness evokes a newer feeling
dwindling through the vain extraction of the never world

we visually see a flash then a new day approaches
on the lawn two lovers having passionate ***
the screams of vile extreme explodes throughout
perhaps this is the place where Nero tread

yet again I sit alone in my house now huddled in the corner
the twilight sun has tainted my inner vision
the howls of Satanic laughter gives a piercing shriek through
a candle was lit by the edge of my bed

One can remain lax in the quietness of the moment
yet again the setting of the sun
a new day has begun as we embark on the moment
Does death hurt you the most or is it fear

You can equate logic through a firm grasp of the hand
whispers again...
then a faint cry,
we construct living pyramids to honor the dead

A stroke of luck an the impulse ensues
onto so much more but for what
are we grasping for straws what are we searching for ?
quietness again this time I'm in the zone

as if zombie creatures with viscous long fangs that bite
dripping blood off side we run away to hide
no one questions anymore no one has a voice
alone one last time yet feelings of grandeur awake

to the message of hope that spills from the sky
a challenge to be free is a question of time
eyes with spots digging holes in a pool of blood
Satan laughing again spreads his wings

Suddenly I awake but to what ?


(12)

An End Of The Age Of Innocence Part III
Written by: Mario Vitale
In our fast paced twentieth century world..,

We oft' have neglected to stop to smell the roses,
Oft' we used to bow our heads silently to pray,
As we reflect back to the sixties is had launched a pad to rebellion !
With a vast amount of liberal bias and thinking,

No wonder why our nation is sinking..,

Sinking amidst a cuss pool of mere morality..,
For now it is a quite different time,
A very unique but different type of day..,
An end of the age of innocence,

One hath been enlightened..,

From seeking truth,
Some fresh out of a garbage can..,
Yet for Gods' sake,
He hath such an amazing plan !

Hence, to shun the broad road,

Yet to seek to venture in the narrow..,
Such as a distant bird in flight !
You might see this creature venture out at night ?
Of the Eagle nor the Sparrow..,

It used to mean something to have a sense of common courteous..,
To hold open the door for your neighbor ?
Yet for the time being we relent and waiver..,
Would you prefer another taste of a certain ice cream flavor ?

To ponder we must be content with who we are in the inside..,

Nor, a mere fancy suit or blazing sport's car,
Life is a roller coaster..,
In what you do while busy making other plans..,
Finding solace among the height of nature.,

Such to think at what is quite simple,
As a young child reflects on his or her poster board,
Playing with their magic crayons..,
For in eternity it is such a very long time !

Take heed in what you do,

Now is the expectant hour !
What will one choose to do ?
There can be no place nor need for any compromise,
Within it's vast perpetual spectrum !

One just can't put a price tag on a genuine but unique heart !

Hence, with honest integrity..,
The time for change is today !

(13)

He Was There
by Mario William Vitale

From the inner silence of the lamb he was there
In welcoming to the world to share
Within the multiple of words the mouth speaks
As a heart beats through the passage of time
To every poem that was ever written
To every burden ever lifted
To rivers crossing where people living
Sometimes loving other moments giving
In storms that were outside brewing
What is the significance of this love
In painted pictures from above
To every soldier in a battle
To every cow amidst the cattle
Not a second glance at any real romance
A field of dreams throughout our head
From both fire and ice will make you think twice
Perhaps another chance at a roll of the dice
When every kingdom comes thy will be done
Shadows in the shining morn if there's a rose it bears a thorn,
He was there in every circumstance
When they tried to throw stones at her
He was there drawing a line with his finger in the sand
It is my hope that some day all will understand
A glance at the past will tell us of our future
Amidst the inner pain & uncertainty
Through shadows in a field of dreams
In moments of solace amidst the pain
A light moved out upon the street outside
A day that wasn't meant to be
Thorn crown was pulled upon his head
Those shouts of intense anger from the mob
There was only one who would help him back on his feet,
A light that brought only a few to greet
Let us not run away & hide
Each one of our sins was placed on that cross
To lose the battle now would end in tragic loss
Father please forgive them for they know not what they do
He said the prayer now the rest is up to you
That cross that broke a sinful world apart
With his blood-soaked crown with spear in side
To show the whole world he had nothing to hide
The summoned cry brought about healing in the sky
Watch the free angelic dove fly!



(14)

Momma Of Pearls
by Mario William Vitale

Since there's nothing I could find
That was worth giving you,
I sat down to think a while
And write a line or two
If I had a magic wand
I'd wave it just for you,
And give you anything you'd like
No matter how many or few
If I could give you back the years
You so willingly gave to me
I'm sure that you spend them over again
The same as they used to be
Remember when those days and nights
Instead of going to the fair
I'd always say tell me again
The story of the three little bears
I tried to get a strawberry pie
But they were out of season
Then I thought of gold

At school, poetry was anything but cool
Reading Shakespeare, Dickinson, Austin and Hughes
Writing essays on the Capulets and Montagues
Every time that subject came up my brain went on snooze
Call it what you want, the ignorance of youth
Like maybe my young mind was too uncouth
It just didn’t feel like they were speaking the truth
***** waggle dagger’s just too long in the tooth
Although one day we done some knowledge on Poe
Some lines that man wrote made my interest grow
It wasn’t what he said it’s how he said it
He didn’t even say anything to me, it’s how I read it
It made me wanna write down my feelings
It felt healing, exorcising all my demons
As I wrote I could feel all the heaviness leaving
Giving my brain a spring cleaning
It’s very therapeutic to take an experience
Wrap it neatly in a metaphor for convenience
That’s one of many reasons I love the bard’s art
A bird tapping a man’s window was the start
Ever since then poetry’s been knocking
At my chamber door but this is no Lenore
Poetry shall lift my soul forever more
Forever more

1) The sky is the color of cracked television screens and in your sleep you're mouthing silent screams that sound like needles on vinyl.

2) I'm scared you've done lasting damage. I'm scared I was a monster before I even knew you.

3) The moon is just a paper plate and the stars are all LiteBrites.

4) Pictures of girls that are prettier than you, cigarette burned around the edges.

5) Betraying myself with every line I write. But my old heart beats like your knuckles on my ribs. Like your teeth on my lips.

6) Romeo and Juliet except the Capulets are pill heads and Romeo is an orphan.

7) I'm getting pretty good at not controlling my moods. It's the only thing that makes me feel like the passenger seat of your mustang did.

8) The alcohol burns but only half as bright as you do in my heart where you sculpt horrible ice sculptures with cigarette butts and bics.

9) So now smoke is all I breathe, gasping deeply at the chemicals that help me purge you from my system like a sickness.

I live in the words of other people.
I come alive as they come off the page.
I fall in love with fictional characters and
There are times when I only know how to feel in song lyrics.

I want to name my son
Fred
after a Weasley king.
I hope he inherits a penchant for trouble
and more heroism than he gets credit for.

Sometimes I feel like Sal Paradise,
and I have nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

I put girls on pedestals and
have too much of a tendency to
yearn for that green light of East Egg.

I fall for Capulets,
but I wasn’t built for tragedy.
I still believe in happily ever after.

In fair Verona where Will set the scene
Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down.
Two households both alike in dignity
Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground.

When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance
Events were set in motion that, perchance,
Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride
but ultimately result in her suicide.

With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead,
And Capulet and Montague estranged.
Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed
not knowing of her loss of maiden-head.

Romeo was banished for his crime,
a sin for which a peasant would have died
Their two households, joined because they wed,
remained divided by their foolish pride.

Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air,
oppressive in the absence of a breeze.
With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead,
as if struck down by some unknown disease


Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet
Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets.
A draught of deadly poison he obtained
So they might sleep together once again.

When Romeo met Paris at her tomb,
Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead.
Would not the world have been a better place
if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead?

Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down-
the only son of Montague now dead.
Perchance just then fair Juliet revives
Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead.

Authorities, arriving at the scene,
could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost.
Capulet and Montague were reconciled
Their amity bought at a fearful cost.

he comes to me at three in the morning,
my hair a mess, my feet in slippers,
my attire dingy, but my eyes sparkling.

drunk and tired, hiding behind a tree
so my father won't see; he holds me;
light drizzle and cigarette smoke,
hazy eyes and alcohol breath;
trying to make the best of it.

he's no romeo, and i'm no juliet;
but my parents are Capulets
and he's the dangerous boy
involved with their princess.

sitting beneath a tree
at three in the morning,
no place i'd rather be;

he's no romeo,
but he's all i need.

All Rights Reserved (NJ2015)

Times like this I'm not sure of what to write about
Do I write about happiness that I will one day find
Or do I write about sadness, my current state of mind
Lost in a war between the Ups and the Downs
Romeo and Juliet, Montagues and Capulets
Some one save me from this confusion
Tell me that it will be all right
Tell me that the Ups will end this never ending battle of emotions that constantly rule my day
I don't want to be here, not like this

Death springs a new day basking in the breeze
In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place
A far off castle in the mountains away from it all
A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling
Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise
A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight
He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity
The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura
A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility

For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy
Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy
A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust
Often they would disagree on who it was to serve
A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand
Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere
For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy
The maiden would often come forth and see

For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before
Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne
A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night
Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet
Having a way of words that he would often share
The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love
A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom
The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules
Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good

camaraderie - much too
grand a word, of course
for the heady unity we'd caught
against our parents
against our school
nonchalantly - against them all
raging round our haughty town
dressing up by dressing down
our Capulets and Montagues
were Trendies versus Casuals
but mostly we were tiny shells
trapped in our semirural hell
united we could stand it best
while hatching in an empty nest

Upon the hot beams of sunlight
I bring my heart as the dawn
beckons me to your arms.

I am reminded of your memory
as mornings first breathe
is taken upon my senses it
rises as I awaken.

That like a seed
love grows and roots
itself upon our bed
of hearts building
a plot for the future.

The roots grow stronger
with the struggles and
adventures we experience
together.

Upon loves flight we are its capulets
of two star crossed lovers.

A poetic love like no other.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton