A Poem

I have been many places

Seen so many faces

Known many struggles

Tucked through some troubles

I have had such adventures

That I never could have imagined

Would be my own to call

I have walked by shallow rivers and almost drowned in waves

I have been hungry

A Poem

I want to be an old woman,

who lives in her dancing shoes.

I want to be an old woman,

with nothing left to do.

I want to be an old woman,

with an ink well and real feather quills.

I want to be an old woman,


A Stream of Consciousness

Underwater I dream

Underwater I float to other tides, other destinations

Better expectations

Kinder manifestations

Trippy co-creations

Underwater I dream, about ancient seaweed formulations

Karmic saltwater, Kissing Deaths

Prehistoric shell hotels

Lost silver flowers

I drift into weightless seduction

Forgetting the self that lives on Land

Remembering who I really am,

A mermaid, of the divine and

Holy Sea

A Poem

I am my mother’s daughter. In this year of life, twenty eight.

I am a mother, with no children of my own.

I am my mother’s daughter.

The same song with, every bit of light in my eyes.

With every bit of salt water in my blood.


My Dearest Son,

I sit in a field of grass and delicate yellow flowers. The wind blows with a strong gust of warm October air. I am surrounded by rustic colored, noble trees. You have been growing in my belly for 28 weeks now. When you enter this world, your…

In Italy, the wind hits your face at a kind angle.

In Italy, nothing matters but the moment.

Those that are there are bet and better for the taking.

Under skies and canopies, nothing is unspoken in the face

of the great, divine LAND!

This land grits and greats a harvest for the heavens.

But do not be mistaken, I have got the

Golden prize.

Unto all that exists,

I thank the God for the seas, the skies, the earth

For all that they offer.

But nothing,

Oh Italy compares to


A Poem

Bending happiness

Break it in half and give some to


Hard to smile

When I see so many looking so blue

I see you working hard

And trying to be someone

Your dusting off the shadows

Like a maid in the night

Your sadness

Makes me sad too

With just a glance

I feel your excellence

And your sorrow

Want to give some of my happiness

To you

I hear the tenderness in the morning birds song.

I feel the tenderness in the fibers of my heart.

I know the tenderness of the hands, of the man that lives next to me.

I understand the tenderness of the universe.

I have found peace.

I can rest and listen to the morning bird song, with a smile upon my heavy eyelids.

I can rest.

Truly rest.

I can sleep,

Like I haven’t slept since I was a child.

I have found peace in the tenderness,

Of your beautiful love.

A Poem

Sacred Beach

You never fail me

A bed of firm yet soft texture

Levels me

Like a fertile woman spread against

Her loving man

Every wave

A coaxing touch upon the coves of

My fondest memories

Your roar and bounty looks back yet

Pulls forward with every passing


There are no supplements for your


Just an undying force that never

Apologies for its willpower.

Sacred beach

You level me

You teach me the glory of strength

The prescription to wealth

The lust of mankind,

Forces us to never part ways

I return to you in summer half nude

In winter with many covers

You’re always there

Sacred beach

With no remorse

No regrets

No questions

Just a presence of power

That levels me

Your cuts, such dedication.

The depth does not release blood.

It concerns, no artery or vein or muscle group.

Where it lingers is a mystery.

At moments most insignificant,

it appears.

Like bending your ticket, in line at jury duty, on a sunny day.

An un-cute, cloud of clutter and shame appears near my head.

Lingers near my bosom, we’re only my lovers head should rest.

You cloud, destroy my sunshine might.

Unbeknownst to thee,

your disgusting voice appears.

Like in a comic book bubble,

I hear your words.

Time is gone.

It still hurts really bad.

Thanks for being worse than

jury duty.

Krystal Molinari

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