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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
Dad had the cancer and died in the spring
Mom had a bummer and died early that summer
By time it was fall sister hung from a tree
Now why’s everybody, looking a me?
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
Carried high above the trees the nut slipped from the moral grip of a bird’s beak.
whooish if fell
clunck- pop it hit
and landed between to two ancient bricks
the little nut prayed a little nuts prayer
to the wall that cradled and held him there.
My Savior, my savior
your bells has god’s grace
your walls high and thick
let me stay in this place.
Protect me and keep me
from the fat ground below
from the fallen leaves and the harbinger hoe
I vow to you, please spare me this doom
and content until death
I shall live in this room.
Moved by compassion
he decided OK
where he has fallen
the young nut can stay.
In a short time the nut split in two
his roots snaked the walls
and weakened it glue.
His shoots shot right out of that little hole
and covered the bell who’s praises he tolled.
The nuts twisted roots grew thicker and tore
at each ancient stone from the wall where it bore.
Stricken with grief
the wall bewailed it’s state
and soon fell apart
for it was too late.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
The envious peach tree watched the nut
produce great quantities
so she resolved to do the same
“no one out does me.”
When the harvest came
her children did abound
which caused her roots to snap
and broke her to the ground.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
The duck plunged under water
but unable to endure
the headstrong falcon followed him
beneath the meekly sewer
While falcon’s feathers all were soaked
Duck rose in the air
and mocked the bird of prey
who was drowning there.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
The Chestnut observed man
as he bent the Figs boughs
and pulled off her fruit
as nature allows
He opened his mouth
in order to feast
and tore at the fruit
with his hard stony teeth
“Less protected than I”
The Chestnut exclaimed
“See how my offspring hold close to my frame.
Outside they’re protected with a fortress spines
while inside of their carp they are soft linen lined.
To the hand of the man, we do not fall prey
and end up his banquet, his food or buffet.”
The Fig and her young started to laugh
Man is ingenues, you stupid old sod
He’ll have you fruit and he wont spare the rod
He’ll throw stakes and stones into you crown
and all of your children will come tumbling down,
to be broken and trampled and maimed my man’s feet
and emerge from their armor in total defeat.
You think your nipes better?
Better than mine?
Simply because they carry a spin?
While gently we’re touched by the harvester’s hand
Your saps will know nothing but the violence of man.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
The eagle mocked the owl
who was tethered by a string
and ended up in bird-lime
that caught him by the wing.
Owl said to eagles
escape if you can
for you'll soon be mock
by the swift knife of man.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
Momma made Dorothy a dress from the scraps off the factory floor,
And a quit from worn out garments that were worn before.
And the old buttons that survived became the christmas sock dolls eyes.
She raised a family just on scraps, that kept us warm and had our backs.
So please forgive me when I smile
at pants with patches and re-darned gloves.
To you they look like garbage.
But to me they look like love.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
A Follower of Pythagoras
and the theory of transmigration
wish to prove to his friend
the fact of reincarnation.
Although the man presented
how life to life was sewn
his trusted old companion
wished he’d just go home.
Yet, he persisted
“I can prove
that you have lived before,
You were a miller that I knew
from the town next door.”
Feeling injured
the old friend agreed
with his patience all a scoure
“I was the Miller
and you were the ass
that carried my mill flour.”
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
When I met the Bard back in the day
he was only seventeen.
I introduced him to merriment
and showed him how to dream.
At twenty one I flew him
to where the dun cows roam.
Where we sang the ancient songs
and cried the ancient groans.
The Bard was my companion
He captain, I first mate.
We spent each night together
with or without plate.
Although, forty years have go’n by.
We still sit blood shot, eye to eye.
He the man and I the rye.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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Anthony Crisafulli Poem
In the house of fisherman
an oyster laid among the catch
until a friendly rat came by
who caught the little oysters eye
The oyster cried out from its ledge
take me to the waters edge.
The rat replied, I feel your plight
but I'd rather feed my appetite.
The rodent grabbed the oyster's shell
the oyster opened wide
and clapped down on the rodents head
trapping him inside.
Unable to release himself
the rat was held at bay
until a cat did come along
and made the prey a pray, a prey.
Copyright © Anthony Crisafulli | Year Posted 2015
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