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Best Poems Written by Frank Guglietta

Below are the all-time best Frank Guglietta poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

A Puzzle

stuck on a 
branch
stuck on a
thought

stuck here,
no key to 
let out

just a whole dug
by an elusive 
voice 

straighten the damn shovel 

the whole 
wont fill 
only an empty face
that can feel

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Humans

Highest on food chain


but we still starve

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Front Row

History always repeats.

This globe produces 
same story,

just different bodies 
acting out the play 
---

I write,
not to plead for the
always invisible change,

but to keep
myself sane.

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Landslide

Caving in
as my mountain
begins to fold

A mountain that was so steep,
tall, wide, and proud
has crumbled.
Caved in

My mountain has gone,
not gone as
other things go
but gone.
                         Leaving no trace

As my mountain
turns flat,
once admired
Is now walked 
all over.

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Steps On a Tuesday

Tuesday. 
Th sun is faint, but our precious breeze 
is alive.
An afternoon of walking.
Walking and feeling and seeing.
An unmarked route around Hermosa Beach.
My only chore of the afternoon was to the bank.
Plenty of pedestrians sharing the sidewalk, cyclists rolling
on the streets. 
People walking dogs, 
dogs walking people.
Fast pacers, slow street crossers. 
Cars in a hurry, always with the windows up,
I don't understand that.
Isolation of the earth around,
headphones in, loud talkers, speedy fingers texting a crucial
message. Blocking the senses, a gift often taken for granite.
I walk uphill and down, hearing the tide brush up on sand.
 Many walk with company, chirping to each other the days trivial problem 

I have been trying to refrain from my cynical judgement.
Hesse rights on not being able to control the world around, and just to 
be apart of it and embrace. 
I agree.

I stop at my favorite bench to read.
Freezing the ongoing time,
love to be frozen with no expectations.

Geoff Nicholson, " The Lost Art of Walking "
I enjoy his words.
Inspiring me to walk more but the notion has always
been there. To write you must absorb,

absorb your mind, surroundings, energy.

laugh at the child telling her parents she has a 
red lollipop, and her brother has a bruee one.
Listen to the homeless stringing their guitars.

I sit and I read by the coast, occasionally popping my eyes out
to catch the stimuli. 

I wonder what others think when they walk.

The strand not so popular today.

I walked and enjoyed my solitude of thoughts and 
convseration in my head. 

I don't know what I wish to achieve on these walks, 
serenity is one,
maybe seeing a shy girl reading is another

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Going West

to see the hills
and tree's with palm
to feel the ocean on 
my nose
to drink the wine 
and rest on a bar 
to write in the streets 
but sleep in a room
to ride the bus absorbing
the pain
to stare at women and
their legs 
to laugh as my buddy,brother,friend
coughs from the joint. 

to drink for the cheers
of being alive

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Alive At Night

the day is trivial 
the night is tranquil.
all critters crawl out
of corners in
 the dark 
	awake is being alive,
solitude is harmonious.
I woke my dog up, he stared up with
the laziest eyes, fighting to keep them
open 
like he might miss something.

all the freaks poke around 
at night 

life is ample,
even when I am

alone,

 in a room
or crowded in a bar

insomnia slithers
through your spine,
 just laying
motionless.
with a circus playing
behind the curtain, 
so deceiving to be a 
puritan

to the religion of money

just give me a couch,
...maybe a few books. 
and paper to portray 
my mind

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Lack of Life

to live 
is to eventually die
but live while
you are alive
dieing for a piece
of paper is not living
	better start
digging your hole

turning your back 
for paper
is as slaughtering 
horses 
filling your ears with 
gold and
 body with fur
is filling only 
vanity

to live
is to die, 
but die with dignity 
knowing you didnt 
live for the green

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

Ten Minute Wait

Strolled in 
to my barbers Friday evening
Typical wait 
(10 minutes)
                   No problem,
except two people 
bothering me.
 A mother 
while she coddles her son
with one wavy arm
                    In tight clothes
A ring bigger than Texas...
not a word spoken between them

both on their fancy I phones
Son, 
strolling through Facebook
                     Mother staying busy with games,
starring into it as if it were a big mac 

I watched
                     cursing in my head

Other waiting people
stuck on their cool new entertainment 

Nobody talks
Nobody thinks
10 spare minutes 
scares the *****out of people

Time to get her son’s haircut
He, atleast 10

She walks over and 
instructs the barber
what her son needs 
probably never making
a decision for himself 
                     He'll grow as she

becoming a winner

Details | Frank Guglietta Poem

To Sense

energy claims through 

veins jolt,
ridges on skin construct 

my canvas gravitates thoughts,
	thoughts are 
always silent,
whispers never leak 

my canvas is an angel
swooping to endure 

ears stay alert 
scanning all vibrations. 
 Hands steady 
mind always
clinging 
	

searching,judging
 	innate reasoning

my canvas is sensitive,
collecting all flying
motion
	
my canvas is never blank
sometimes meshing
sometimes clashing

I bleed energy,
although absorb enough to sustain.