"vitanza" poems
Is our presence on Earth an illusion created by the mind?
If we lived on a different planet
Would we be the same creatures that we are:
Accumulating material things,
Starting wars to satisfy the need for power, or for greed?
If Universal Mind switched our illusion for yet another one,
What then?
^ ^ ^
2009(c)Vilma Vitanza
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 7:53 PM UTC
Are you listening?
Can't you hear the voices of my heart
That call for your attention
To what they have to say?
Are you listening?
The sun is now setting in the sky,
The sounds along the streets are calming down... .
Why is it that you don't listen to the voices of my heart?
- - - - - -
08/19/2015(c)Vilma Vitanza
Oakland, CA
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
After tossing by my side for a long while
Sleep left me alone tonight.
"I want to walk around the lake," It said,
Swiftly leaving my bed.
I understand why Sleep left me tonight.
It is a quiet time. Quiet. Dark.
When I open the window leading toward the lake
White, puffy clouds cover the stars---
I cannot see a soul.
But on the path going around the lake
I see Sleep in the distance walking away from me.
- - -
08/06/2015(c)Vilma Vitanza
Oakland, CA
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
Here people stroll,
Wars rage in other lands.
---How blind are humans.
---
9/17/2008(c)Vilma Vitanza
HAIKU II
Such a wise woman
---To see the hidden jewel
In the heavy dross.
- - -
9/17/2008(c)Vilma Vitanza
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:11 PM UTC
Searching for monsters in my mind
I walk the path within myself time and again.
Alone
In silence
I find Fear
An ever present Fear.
Relentless Fear.
Fear to live?
To die?
Afraid to build a Paradise all of my own?
The past, a part of me, always will be.
The present and the future are one in my today.
I must get rid of Fear, the monster in my mind.
07/30/04(c)Vilma Vitanza
Palermo, Italy.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 8:02 PM UTC
What have I done with my life?
What am I doing with my life now?
What do I want to do with what remains of it?
What have I done with my life?
I haven't done a thing to change the world.
I haven't brought communities together---I didn't even try.
What have I done with my life? I haven't fought corruption,
I have't stopped the wars. I haven't helped the homeless
And those who have much less than I.
What have I done with my life? I haven't cleaned the oceans
Of the garbage that we dump. I haven't cleaned the air that we breathe.
What have I done with my life? All I can say is that I have loved.
I have loved the earth, the trees, and all the living things.
I have loved my family, my friends, and the lovers that I've had.
What do I want to do with the rest of my life?
Is it hours I have left? Is it days? Is it weeks, or months, or years
That I carry on my back? I do not know.
But I know my heart will help me find the way
As I walk on this tightrope.
I shall try to listen better, and shall try to use fewer words;
I cannot change the world
For I am just a speck of dust in the great landscape of our planet.
In the meantime I'll continue to be me.
I'll continue to love you through the remaining of my life.
09/16/2015(c)Vilma Vitanza
Oakland, CA
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
I watch you sleep:
At times an occasional sigh
Opens your lips,
Then, you continue to breathe
The breath of Life.
- - -
20/18/04(c)Vilma Vitanza
Richmond, CA
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
Your cap.
Your brown night cap.
Your brown night cap no longer has your scent---
Even your cap betrayed me when you left.
Not much remains of you in this my little house.
Your picture's in the kitchen over the window sill;
Your four shirts, one T-shirt, one handkerchief,
One pair of socks, towels, pajamas,
And the brush I bought for you.
Now, let's see... have I forgotten something
That is not mine but yours?
Oh, yes, your books!
The inventory is almost finished, I believe... .
But, no. I'm not quite done.
There's something else you left, something I cannot return.
They are the memories that we built together,
The bruises in my heart,
The broken dreams, the magic,
The remnants of my youth.
Now, everything is packed and we must say goodbye,
Goodbye to you,
The Spring that came in Winter
The Winter of our lives.
- - - - -
04/31/04(c)Vilma Vitanza
Richmond, CA
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
Such a wise woman----
To see the hidden jewel
In the heavy dross.
-_-
9/17/08(c)Vilma Vitanza
Berkeley, CA
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
Come, chat with me tonight for the last time
In this house that was mine,
But is now in a stranger's hands.
Come. Let us say goodbye tonight,
And drink tea from the blue cup that we both like.
Remember the old cup you gave me once?
It is the only one that still remains unpacked.
Tonight ghosts from the past will step out from the walls,
With whispers of **********
Laughter of children sounding from room to room,
And we shall smell the scent of herbs
Drifting out from the kitchen where we spent so much time.
Come visit me tonight, my friend,
Help me lighten the burden of my leaving
Now breathing down my neck.
- - -
01/09/99(c)Vilma Vitanza
Albany, CA
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
He sits across the table in a quiet mood
Holding the paper with both hands,
Concentrated on the daily news.
"Anything good?" I ask.
His lips and eyes smile looking at me.
"There's the sad news,
And then there's the depressing news,"
He says, smiling again.
This time his eyelids, two tired butterflies,
Cover his eyes---I cannot see their smile.
* * *
09/19/2008(c)Vilma Vitanza
Berkeley, CA
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
SEARCHING FOR MONSTERS
Searching for monsters in my mind
I walk the path within myself time and again.
Alone
In silence
I find Fear,
The ever present Fear
Relentless Fear
Fear to live?
To die?
Fear to build a Paradise all of my own?
The past, a part of me, always will be.
The present and the future are in my today.
I must get rid of Fear to build my Paradise.
7/30/04.(c)Vilma Vitanza
Palermo. Italy
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
Tucked on a shelf I found a book
Bound in red leather.
Its pages soft as worn-out silk
With the damp odor of mold.
Between its pages was a note,
Blurred by the hands of time:
"I'll wait for you tonight by the church door.
I'll be there at seven. Don't be late."
* * *
1980(c)Vilma Vitanza
Albany, CA
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
There will be no good-byes
No farewell
No explanations or questions,
Nor the hint of a tear in my eyes.
- - -
1979(c)Vilma Vitanza
Albany, CA
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC
Here people stroll,
Wars rage in other lands.
---How blind are humans.
---
9/17/2008(c)Vilma Vitanza
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC
What have I done with my life?
What am I doing with my life now?
What do I want to do with what remains of it?
What have I done with my life?
I haven't done a thing to change the world.
I haven't brought communities together---I didn't even try.
What have I done with my life? I haven't fought corruption,
I have't stopped the wars. I haven't helped the homeless
And those who have much less than I.
What have I done with my life? I haven't cleaned the oceans
Of the garbage that we dump. I haven't cleaned the air that we breathe.
What have I done with my life? All I can say is that I have loved.
I have loved the earth, the trees, and all the living things.
I have loved my family, my friends, and the lovers that I've had.
What do I want to do with the rest of my life?
Is it hours I have left? Is it days? Is it weeks, or months, or years
That I carry on my back? I do not know.
But I know my heart will help me find the way
As I walk on this tightrope.
I shall try to listen better, and shall try to use fewer words;
I cannot change the world
For I am just a speck of dust in the great landscape of our planet.
In the meantime I'll continue to be me.
I'll continue to love you through the remaining of my life.
09/16/2015(c)Vilma Vitanza
Oakland, CA
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
Is our presence on Earth an illusion created by the mind?
If we lived on a different planet
Would we be the same creatures that we are:
Accumulating material things,
Starting wars to satisfy the need for power, or for greed?
If Universal Mind switched our illusion for yet another one,
What then?
^ ^ ^
2009(c)Vilma Vitanza
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
When I die my soul shall then
Become the air that you breathe,
The water that will make the grasses green,
The music that on earth I never wrote.
- - -
1979.(c)Vilma Vitanza
Albany, CA
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC