Best Della Poems
Sunflowers turn slowly
to follow the sun.
They bow their heavy heads
when afternoon’s done.
What a golden vision
they share row after row
With deep amber faces,
their tiny seeds all aglow.
The summer breezes blowing
o’er the fields with warm air
Shares pride in a country
with its beauty so fair.
I smile in contentment
as I l leave old Italy
With a sea of them waving
good-bye to me.
************************
Italian translation:
Fiori della Toscana
Solefiori ruotare lentamente
a seguire il sole.
Si inchinano le loro teste pesanti
Quando ha fatto pomeriggio.
Che una visione d'oro
essi condividono la riga dopo riga
Con facce profondo ambrati,
Loro piccoli semi tutto raggiante.
La brezza estiva che soffia
sopra i campi con aria calda
Orgoglio di azioni in un paese
con la sua bellezza così fiera.
Sorrido in contentezza
come ho l lasciare la vecchia Italia
Con un mare di loro sventolando
good-bye a me.
Note: This translation is as close to my original poem as possible.
Click on the link to see a picture of sunflowers:
http://hd.lubpedia.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Sunflowers-Wallpapers-4.jpg
Categories:
della, flower, nature, places, summer,
Form:
Rhyme
Her name is Della, when she meows
she sounds like a squeaky toy and
looks like a pot belly pig.
Her fur is as black as can be eyes of
gold that sparkle like diamonds.
Once she had been lost but now she
lives with me bringing me more joy and
happiness than I could ask for.
Her name is Della, when she meows
she sounds like a squeaky toy but I
am glad she is my Kitty Della Mae.
Categories:
della, animalsme,
Form:
Bright Lotus of the lily pad
Let it be known who fears the fall
You who all would uphold in slumber
Blind to a gaze refrained or stalled.
Amongst this lonely block of figures and sand
And thick, heated lines
You glide across water in whispers;
The divine scope of earthly kind.
You I had watched from this embankment
For days on end without question or hope
Enskied before me as light azure
Cool dream where pond turns to rivers slow.
Bright Lotus of the lily pad
Let it be known who fears the fall,
For at once you grip to the shadow’s hand
And draw through paths by the tone of his call.
He who is half in love with easeful death
Holds you like an ancient coin,
And raises glass above your breath
When markets make themselves purloin.
Bright Lotus of the lily pad
I cry for you cannot see the same,
Gaily look upon the water still
At once your face would seem to change.
And I cry out bright Lotus
Let it be known that you fear the fall,
For you run from reason and hide away
Clinging to the shadow’s pall.
Categories:
della, angel, care, change, fear,
Form:
Couplet
In a moment, a lapse of anguish
Through the sanded markets that
The mind implored.
Dust coughed up
And crystallised silence;
Each moan and cry
Of every wrapped face
Became a whisper,
As blood might echo an unheard drip
Into a lake of cold concern.
I do not know how the street kings felt
For upon re-opening they continued much the same;
Decrepit focus on none but their own.
It would sadden me to think the whip of this
Aged and ground earth
Was nothing more than an inconvenience…
But I do not know how the street kings felt,
For my only sense was the smell of mud from my hands,
As I pushed my eyelids shut.
I was never one of the stalls;
I had played that game and not liked it.
Instead what was I?
Scarce confess more than a ghost.
I had dropped an eye into the weeping tomb,
I had retraced each bone with affection
And made self-labour of their wandering loss.
I had carved a hole so deep within
That I may plunge.
Rise as I did, in the scope of the curious
I had no form known to this winding world.
I had a difference, for sure, there was much that I could not now.
Only sleep and give; remaining as dead as I ever was.
I lay naked upon the grazing sand,
Skin as cold as the failing tree.
But in this moment
The mournful fled,
My arms less heavy than known.
The wind spluttered,
Shook its anchor from retreat,
Revealing sights of the like
That opens the lungs.
An image serene, that beauty becomes existence.
I had dropped an eye into the weeping tomb
Now, returned with a thousand unseen truths.
This scope, upon which all light was born,
This blessing, upon which my skin was warmed,
This infinitely gentle and delicate sky
That I had long looked for.
Myself had withered and decayed
To reignite a brighter flame.
And as this new form,
My mind was able to understand these sights.
I lay still upon my back,
My eyes awake with the possibility,
My mouth gaped;
Hope wrapped its arms, like a quilt;
I was soothed enough.
And as in a touch, I breathed.
Categories:
della, angel, art, beauty, birth,
Form:
Blank verse
She doesn't deserve this.
Alone, after fifty-odd years
Married to him.
Alone, too attached to her home
To leave it to live with a son
In a place strange to her.
Alone, still talking to the husband
Who has been dead a year now.
In a moment of clarityy, she realizes he is gone
And feels compelled to visit him
At the cemetery.
Down the road she started
Picked up by neighbors three times
And taken back home.
They, knowing she was no longer capable of being alone,
Yet no one thought to stay.
Now she's gone, we don't know where
The woods, the river, the roadsides
Where can she be?
Wherever it is, we can only pray, Della
That you are no longer alone.
Categories:
della, hope, loss,
Form:
Narrative
Eyes are a beauty like no other,
Where your deepest sense shines like lustrous glass;
The perfect crystal structure,
A divine un-shattered over easeful stars.
Today I looked upon the light.
Today I woke from a heavy slumber
With memory much the same as dreams,
Blinds had been lifted,
And I draw my stillness
Towards the feathered window release.
I pour each breath to this outside air;
The calmly gaze of the soulful sky
May catch them, with wings extended backwards,
Embracing the pure and loyal tide.
The gentle hope of a heart.
Oh, draw in these breaths,
A delicate mixture of a transcendent draught,
Imbued with the devoted kiss of the echoing lake:
Cooled and tranquil to delve.
And lunar rush, tender compassion;
Both wild and soothing,
As the forever bond of eternal arms.
This draught I mix, uncork and bubble
Lulled and sweet, foamed over-flowing,
Gently poured, in reflection of sunburnt oak
And drunk in loyal acceptance.
May my hands never depart
From the shores of your warmth
And with sight fixed to a beauty like no other,
And with a flame in heart:
Today I looked upon the light of words
I love you… Hope you don’t read that and feel awkward…
Categories:
della, angel, beautiful, beauty, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
Mr. Visage of the manor, was often regarded in the highest esteem.
He lived in direct centre of the valley
Lauded his walls with fine antiques and trinkets;
Gold plated vases of crushed ice
Refilled by the hour.
Ebony perfumes
Travelling in thick cloud, like a rich fog of delight
Or marvel atleast.
His walls were only thin bamboo,
And he visited the villagers regularly.
Ofcourse, they privately grumbled of his accommodation
And obsessive nature to present, even perform at times.
Yet he was quite the life amongst them
They would none but laugh and smile in his presence.
Only laugh and smile.
Mr. Visage was a tapestry of pride
A great man in many respects.
Maybe he enjoyed his success too much,
But in person still,
He was a good man amongst the valley.
“This Family is a secret dysfunction;
Alone in all but volume.
Pray for the beauty of the elegant bird.
These wonders I have homed
From a tropic desolation,
Here to see and be seen
In the total view of the prominent.
Perfection of Asia, Africa, bizarre and prize
Drawn together by infinite work:
Pray for the beauty of the elegant bird.
Uneclipsed, I dive
Capsuling grace in a midnight charm
With a stare so ready to flicker
And dissolve the empty rooms.
What will happen to my attraction
Once I depart?”
The Mr. Visage wept
For the bird that flew
And Mr. Visage would never depart.
If there's anyone that's actually been reading all these parts, this one is by far the most obscure, probably looks pretty poor without it making sense but it does, particularly when in comparison with part 2 and 3
Categories:
della, abuse, addiction, age, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse
aspirante suono escono abitare come violino,
per aprire la crescente punteggio su par
con quelle che parla delicatamente, si trova
diretto dal piano di un parente prossimo.
essa sollecita più in pace mentre a dissipare,
la prua ha mosso da obiettivi si ritirano e avanzano
un elemento sorprendente ogni superiore
Di fatto morire, la ondulato ha fatto.
mentre interiorità, effigi immenso,
concernenti la verità violini' invadano
La frontside centrale canopy sul palco
si con pastorale principali stan.
finzione, che abilmente tocco slanciata impugnatura
acquisire la falsetto figlio aigu
annunciando Bon voyage, seducente chi?
Zélindor, ha descritto questo a sedurre.
gioire concepisce benessere, di fermento,
mentre Lafayette predice una piacevole modifica
di Melody circostante ogni scambio
una finalità momenti il lamento.
dipendente dal repertorio area,
il violino "con l'aria
Serenata per un momento di disperazione
a pieno carico imbarazzo a Alba.
Categories:
della, love,
Form:
Verse
The little boat of my intellect now sets sail,
To course through gentler waves,
Leaving behind her a sea so cruel.
There is no smoke beyond our wooden surface
And moonlight eases a dark
Void of wind, rain and storm
Leaving behind a most carnivorous tide.
The little flower of my dreams
The littered hope from dank descent
The light fury allure of the bleeding of vessels
The water is calm of October.
To end what do we breathe so clearly?
What ends us to breathe so clearly?
Like the shape I carve to an unfound desk
Sweetest and purest; the stillness of air.
And of what nature:
Who flickers in sight,
Walks beside open steps,
Addendum movements while here I,
Gripping a rock, for the water is calm of October.
Memories falter when replaced
Swimming so deep in own delight.
Returning again to face
When water turns to ice?
Categories:
della, adventure, beautiful, beauty, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
(Acrostic Haiku)
David's day's dine, drum
Atmosphere's admiration-
Visual's vastly view.
Indoor influence ink...
Doubling diet, desserts do date;
Duty draws design
Expanding earthly
Long life lasting lord's luxuries-
Let lungs love living.
Ace age apportioned,
Actualizing accolades
And act attributes.
Categories:
della, africa, age, art, birthday,
Form:
Haiku
Blessing the houses
on easter eve day
through out the parish
he sprinkled away
The priest stumbled upon
a studio door
where an artist was
painting moments before.
He splattered the water
all over the room
when artist returned
and stated to fume.
“What the hell are you doing?
“You uncultured jerk.”
“who gave you the right
to alter my work?”
“You should be grateful,”
the old priest complained
“I did you some good
Now go do the same.”
“No,” with a pause
“I expect better
the Lord was quite clear
right down to the letter.”
“Good deeds done on earth
the almighty has told
will be rewarded above
one hundred fold. “
The priest turned around,
headed straight for the door.
The artist went up
to where he was before.
And picked up a bucket
filled to the rim
pour it from the window
to soaked priest to the brim.
“Here’s my gratuito
just like you asked
for the paintings you ruined
from the water you blast.”
I think that the priest
blessed the artist that day
who was cursed with bad painting
that were best washed away
Categories:
della, art, blessing, humorous,
Form:
Narrative
My grandmom was a good woman in her time she was born in the depression error the daugter
of sharecroppers in the deep south of Ms of clinton in the country she didn't finish school she
clean schools for living it was a job the biggest job was taken care of other people kids I'm one
of them cause the way she did it was a blessing by being handicapped I was her joy of life by
getting me up to go to school church to my doctors visit every month she clean other peoples
houses she gave good avice to people who need it she was there for every body the things that
she talked me is how to make it in the world on your own when other people is not there for you
I'm teaching my son the things she was telling me then and now
Categories:
della, black african american, childhood,
Form:
Ballad
from a street
in Cartagena
stepping
suddenly
into a
restaurant
so Italian
surely i was
in a time warp
for i
i was still
in Colombia but
fooled by the food
so authentico
and even
the wine was
from Italy so
after paying
my bill
instead
of using
the usual
gracias i just
had to say
grazie
Categories:
della, muse,
Form:
Divine and crunchy the pizzas that you serve,
Sweet the liqueurs I get but don’t deserve!
Your eyes are dark, and moist they are like dew,
Shooting darts with power to pierce me through.
Pardon please an odd and pious hope.
I think your case should come before the Pope,
I’m sure His Holiness would gladly canonize
One blessed with power to make those hot mince pies.
Strange thoughts have I while, waiting on this seat,
I see your smile before I taste the suite.
Categories:
della, crush, romantic, smile, sweet,
Form:
Lyric
Even death cannot escape the clutches,
Of this thing called,
Love.
Categories:
della, love
Form: