Willow Tree


Can it be True

If I were not me,

I would be you?

And Two combined



A Willow Tree.

Our eyes would meet

Like once before

Tumbling times

Too long ago.

Where I was You

And You were Me

Not two,

But three


A Willow Tree.


© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

All the Difference

Diverged in a wood

Two roads

Implanted in our genes.

A seed paints it’s

Own picture of destination.

The sun brewing

A beam of light

Steaming forth


Dragging dripping trails of mud

Along the way.

Trampling riddles

Shedding fragments of solitude.

Lonesome travelers

Stamping footprints

Of stories they once called companions.

Tales tailing their way into

The slippery tunnels tailored

By fashionistas,

Pinned by layers of dress.

Two roads.

One choice to make

He described

Never invoking a prescription.

Mercury running down a thin

Line of craze.

One slip,

A single cut of wrong direction

Crippling the skip of a mad hatter.

With a cringe,

Each lift of leg

Stinging its way onto the path

The beginning always,

Never the ending.

Finish line

A bird’s eye views the Exit

Far off in the distance.

Tempted to jump the hurdles

Reach the finale,

No longer can pretend.

A hint further,

In the steepest of the woods

There lies the One.

The One


Imagination prescribes itself.

A difference

Crafted in art,

Stagnated in the minds of

Endless dreamers.

An all knowing eye

Seeing the choice as wise.

A prophetic ray,

Slyly hidden in the seemingly gloom.

Torn between a choice of two.

With only the courage in their hearts,

The path decides their way.

Paving sight for those willing

To look with a direct precision.

Condemned to blindfold

Those shadowed by the mind.


Those few

Took on the creative genius

Of a Bard.

To prove

Through stumble and fall,

Shaking off gravel of abrupt turns

Stepping steep stones of uncertainty

Lessening lifting loads of lessons.

That One

Dear Sir,

Though tempted by a curious few.

Does make all the difference.


© Nicoletta


Morning Aroma

9 AM



Not a minute more

Nor a second less

High knee socks


Dressy class


Giddy eyes of

Business suits and ties

Sleeky chic.

A longevity of lashes

Pulled to brims with mascara


Juicy red

An attention grabber


On the words exerted.

The aura of steamy

Coffee beans

Like a sleep walker

Drawn down the road of hazard

A long line of desperatos


A speeding up clock.


Just 5 to go

300 seconds

Excuse me


Yes, you in the grey

Striped tie

Perfect folded napkin

Right pocket

Lady’s first?

Por favor?

Just for today.

Texting his way

To an Americano

High heels

Not distracting

Barista’s calling out

Wake up!

Next, please

Craver number infinite.

Cup of cino


Let’s go for Jessica

But you can call me Jess

Room for cream?

Lactose free


9 AM


In she goes

Not a second more

Nor a minute less.

Burning aroma

Tasting it’s way

To the smiling hand

She firmly shakes.

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…



Like slicing onions

Each dice a piece of advice.


The sting will be worthwhile.

Hold the knife you may

Critics decide the direction of the blade.

Left, right, zig-zag

Up, down, to and fro

On your own?

A person your age?

Not the way to go.

Looks like you need a pointer or two.

Follow me

The cut is this way.

An eligible bachelor

That one will do.

Proposal that’s next.

Bumps are welcome

Why not a few?


Listen up.

Don’t you have a clue?

Minimum wage’s all you need.

Four mouths to feed.


Shaping your home.

Dirt free.

Heard vacuuming is the perfect workout.


Special offers.

The town up the street.

Why not stop by an

All you can eat?


Too late for that.

Peeled off the layers.

Sharpened the tip.

Thrusted the core,

Rays of the smell

Daring pupils to drip.

A chop well done.


Let’s see.

Raw too harsh.

Sautéed sweeter.


Exquisite taste.

Fine cuisine.

© Nicoletta

Glow’s to Blame

Plump cheeks hallow

Like an obese anorexic.

Hallow cheeks plump

Like an anorexic obese.

Who are you?

Money craving blood sucker.

An all you can eat buffet

In exchange for the

Stomach pumping of your soul.

It is paper you hunger.

A scrap of nothing.

At least gold has a shine to it.

Star dust, to heal your cracked hands.

Black gold,

Even better.

The oyster of the sea,

With a perfect gem,

To fix the twist in your head.

Pray the sirens call your name

And draw you close.

Drown the evil inside of you.

What are you?

In the pursuit of material,

I wonder what is your substance?

How can you stand

To live with the glistening eyes of the innocent

As they blink for the last time?

It is behind your mountain heap

That you run and hide,

Abiding your own laws.

Look up ahead.

The shouts of caution

Flashing beams of warning.

Justice will be served.

Were you too blind to see?

It was all written out for you.

They were always willing to give you a helping hand.

Given you would understand,

What road to take.

What a shame,

That glinting glow’s to blame.

Like a moth to a flame,

The light switches

And you awaken

In the ditch of your riches.

© Nicoletta

Yellow Luster

Golden touch

Gold in touch

In touch seek gold

Gold sought in touch



Diggers of gold

Bountiful body

Laden with strain

Dolled up

A disguise to dementia

Dressed to impress

Eyes long repressed

Mascara joining the masquerade

Lashes sealed shut

Shredded sighs

Dreaming diamonds

Shriveled hands feast on youth

Idolizing adolescence

Swiveling sweat seeking sincerity

Tales of truth targeting trophies

Callipygian carvings

Blossoming bosom


Rock turns to yellow luster

Epiphany erected

Till death do us part.

© Nicoletta

If this song had a voice, this is what it would sing…

One Look




A penny.

A sign?



Focus, one look.


A flash of eyes I see.

This time, everyday.

Your grip

Takes hold of my senses.

I do not know


Not one thing about you.

One look,

I feel.

I know.


Every single thing.

Breaking my defenses,

I let you seep into my shelter.

A simple stare,

Breaking the thin line of protection

Which seals my mouth shut.

One look,

My lips tremble into a smile.

A mere glance,

My eyes intoxicated.

My sight poisoned by infatuation.

Awkwardly searching the ground,

For a remedy to shyness.

Some dirt.

To dampen the red in my cheeks.

One look,

My brain fried.


Fumbling for words to speak.

To greet you at least.

In that split moment of the day,

All emblems of brilliance desert me.

A clean slate.

With nothing to say.


To solidify my confidence.

One look,

I gasp for air.

One breath to take.

An inhale to fill my lungs

With courage.

A penny.

A shine of luck.

A leap of hope,

I pick it up.

One look,

Vision full of adrenaline.

Blurred by the back of your head.

Till tomorrow.

Same time.

One look,

Swept by the shadows of the ground.

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

Cavity’s Call

In the darkest corner you may sit

And stare into the pit of nothingness.

Giving it power to deceive you.

Manipulate you into thinking

That this is the source of your completion.

The brutality of the deception destroys you.

For no chemical entering the warmth of your blood

Can bring about a heat wave of happiness.

The fantasy of satisfaction is only momentary.

The reality of addiction strains all blessings of bliss.

It snatches the sparkle in your eyes.

Any twinkle left diminished by the demons of death.

A hallow hell you sniff.

Each burn you breathe,

Sneaking sickness into the depths of your soul.

Each ill you inhale,

Blurring the perfect harmony of the mind

The clarity of consciousness.

Each terror injected in your veins,

Deepening the ditch of your deletion.

Shovels smashing into the earth

Determining your fate.

Removing dirt after dirt

Speeding up the process.

Digging and digging.

A dandy drop for the darers,

A luscious lolly for the lazies.

A cream of coca for the chillers.

A heavenly haze for heroes and heroines.

Digging and digging.

Each candy for the brain,

A cavity’s call to your grave.

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

The Island of Aphrodite


The Goddess of beauty and love,
chose this island as her birthplace.
Oh Aphrodite what loveliness you have spread
The most breathtaking landscapes.
I see your face in the mystical waters,
Your divine touch in the scorching sun.
Your breath is in the air,
The ancient smell of perfection.

How you have blessed this place.
Even in the ruins and obsoleteness I still sense you.
You have managed to charm your fairness into the horrors of history.
Was such fair beauty not enough to seduce Ares?
How could he have not succumbed to your magic?
If only you could have cast a spell to blind his determined eyes of war.
If only he could have entered the depths of your heart and surrendered.

Ghosts of terror haunt each street I walk on.
Desolated buildings ache from remnants of the past.
Blood leaks from each and every wall.
Cracks weak and beaten by age
Sinking deeper into the concrete,
Clinging onto memories.
Memories bitter and yet so sweet.
Thoughts of once was scream from afar.
A place once called home, transformed into something so distant.

The echos of happiness tickle what remains.
The joyous sounds of peace and serenity.
The calls of innocence when opponents once stood side by side as companions.
Yes, even in this unfamiliarity I find you temptress Aphrodite.
Your aura fills the absence.
It penetrates through the silence.
You illuminate the bareness,
Like a divine messenger,
An angel sent from above.
A constant reminder of the vitality
That serves the land of the present.

Although wounded by the bullet of Economy,
Who ruthlessly fired her gun.
Although knocked down by the ferocious Politics ,
Who mischievously hid in the shadows of empty words and promises.
Although neglected by the great Queens and Kings of Europe.
Your presence, Aphrodite is ever the more powerful.
I breathe in your aroma.
The sweet smell beyond the anxiety of the everyday.
You, my Goddess are the glory of this land.
The guardian of it’s marvelous, endless beauty.

© Nicoletta

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