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Best Poems Written by John Valasco

Below are the all-time best John Valasco poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Optimism

The morning shown as a mono gray
but the forecast called for a clearing sky
which gave me time to read and pray
The morning shown as a mono gray
later on will be time to play
to write a verse or bake a pie
The morning shown as a mono gray
but the forecast called for a clearing sky

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The Edge

Things that cling to life 
in the most unlikely spots, 
life not recognized by many 
yet understood by the few.

Who fight for survival 
against the likelihood of defeat, 
battling nature and man himself 
finding a place to breathe.

Strength brings a beauty
of desire, thought and focus, 
a clear belief in self and mind, 
this fight to overcome.

Uncertainty of nature 
provides a path for success, 
rewarded from the expectation 
that survival is not guaranteed.

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No Bird ever soared in a calm

How can I fly like a bird he dreamed
this man and his brother, with little formal education.
So they dreamed and watched,
they studied and read.
Dickens and Twain, Virgil and Plutarch also.

They worked hard in Dayton and Kitty Hawk too
and they never stopped, the focus the same,
how can I fly like a bird.

So they tried and they failed
and tried again - and failed
and they failed - and they learned
and their focus remained the same,
how can I fly like a bird?

It was never easy, never for sure
because no bird ever soared in a calm.

With little help and little attention
they remained focused.
Supported only by profits from
their small bike shop —
they continued on.

Until one day
on a windy, rough day,
on an isolated stretch of beach at Kitty Hawk,
they flew like a bird.
with an engine they built
and a plane they designed so many times.

To capture the spirit of so many others
to fly in the skies of Paris
and finally in the skies near DC.
These brothers, humble in outlook
but focused in demeanor,
lived their dream to fly like a bird - 
because no bird ever soared in a calm.

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Quantum

I feel you
from miles away
the pain and the smiles
without a word to say

Not just the big things
but the smallest of small
if something happens to you
I feel it all.

We don’t move as one
influenced by the other
a northern light maybe
with no sense of smother

We live in our space
a sphere or rectangle
but certainly we sense
we are entangled.

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A Purpose

As I put the card in the suit pocket,
I found another card with a short biography.
The card I put into the pocket had its own short biography.
Both cards were for the same purpose.

A few years ago, this suit
was worn for visits with the bosses.
Asking for more money or trying to sell an idea.
This suit had a purpose.

A few years later, this suit still has a purpose.
Supporting friends and families, a coming together
To celebrate wonderful lives,
Lives with a purpose.

I think I will leave the short biographies in the suit pocket,
As a reminder of those lives, those families, those friends,
But also as a reminder of having a 
Life with a purpose.

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Until Today

Until today, I knew the way,
the direction never in question.
My northern star was always visible,
it was an amazing relation.

Until today, I knew the way,
but now, the direction isn’t as clear.
My northern star isn’t glowing
and with that came a few tears.

Until today, I knew the way,
direction now will be on my own.
Knowing this day would arrive,
grateful to have time for the seeds sown.

Until today, I knew the way.
Now with directions firmly in mind,
we planned for this as best we could,
our stars remain firmly aligned.

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Matutinal

My typical running day, matutinal.
I awake the birds,
am spooked by an opossum family
and still miles to go.

I run alone today, but see others, barely, with the dark.
One small light provides illumination and visibility.
My mind wanders…

…what is my motivation today,
miles, speed, pain free,
pick one, they are all worthwhile.
How about, enjoy the sunrise?

Stopping to take a moment,
realizing I am blessed, healthy,
with plenty of energy.

Grabbing a coffee when done,
maybe I’ll see a buddy 
and we can compare notes.

Details | John Valasco Poem

WAXING GIBBOUS

Sitting in my writing chair
illuminated by a single candle
and light from a waxing gibbous moon
penetrating my office window.

This would work for an hour or so
until the earths rotation
required my own rotation.
Light enough to pen a few more lines.

I contemplated
how much light
was truly needed to do
the work I wanted to do…

I prefer natural light,
the candle being my only give,
until I grab the nearest flashlight
to make my way to bed.