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Mother

I laid out on the back lawn looking up
At the night stars thinking about
Her ivory skin and natural grown fingernails
And recalled that caution was as important
To her as a box containing fragile glass

She was always so careful and precise,
I remember her smile and her tears
And her marriage to matrimony
Her eyes had the look of the ocean
And her fingers had calluses only life could give.

I remember her best in Spring
Around the violent tulips and how
She always loved babies breath probably
Because she couldn’t have babies
And how she loved the flowers in the garden.

I can still see her hair blowing freely
Spraying out into the warm summer sky
Her heart pumping blood the color of licorice
I remember every morning when she
Sang soft lullabies that drifted like a memory

I remember her in the fall when she fell
Floating around like the crisp leaves in
An azure wind, I remember the steel tanks
And when the doctors carried her away
and, a gift, her own iron lung

I remember her in winter because
She may have to leave soon so
I clutch her old photograph like an epileptic
Remembering everything, fading away with her
Desperately squeezing my white handkerchief

Like a hand grenade.

Copyright ©2007 Vincent John Ancona





Love's Wings

You’ve pulverized me with your words again.
I have become plain and granular
Each speck a bromide
Squeezed out onto the chilled glass
Left to unravel under your empty steel gaze

I glance at your handwritten note
It is sloppy with the old smiley insignias
I am branded such, by them
Crying out in pain, like an infant

I lie down looking in my mirror
Refusing to believe that this is my body
Sagging Load.
Sinking into my bed sheets like quicksand
I think about yesterday, yesterday

And how quickly the years have flow by
On the hollow wings of some terrible bat
Haphazardly traversing space and time
And, blind, the whole while!

I wish I could take every empty promise
Every plea for mercy, please, please…
And place them into an empty bottle
I would send them off to hell then
A slow, luminous descent.

Copyright ©2007 Vincent John Ancona





Heresy

Time is never time enough-
To cure the cancer in things.
A brief glimpse of sunlight brings about
The reality of sunspots.

The sting of realization in the cornea...
The intangible power of truth-
The hemiplegic’s bone-white sheets-
And these words. . .
Like a swarming mass of bees

Tiny black and threatening. . .

Copyright ©2007 Vincent John Ancona



Ode to Lightning

The lightning explodes out of black clouds
Like an angry tarantula quickly descending

Weaving its electronic webs across the sky
Luminous beams with a thousand terrible eyes…

Never finding any answers
A fiery glowing ball of madness

Striking blindly, Running desperately,
From it’s black chiasmic hell

It is terrified of what is contained in the void
God has chased lightning from the underworld

It reaches down with such elegant fingers
Blue jets of solemnity and loneliness

Picking off people and places
Like lice from deadwood.

Copyright ©2007 Vincent John Ancona



Cemetery

Sometimes, when I am feeling brave
I like to visit cemeteries.

I am always a welcome guest
In those desperate stone houses

The dead are lonely, quiet and accepting…
They are more like God than I am.

In their presence I feel the need to lie down
And if I close my eyes long enough…

I am brought back to Pangaea.

Copyright ©2007 Vincent John Ancona



Brown Rose

On the tope wall of the old room
Lies a musty brown rose

It is nailed to the wall
Probably from some funeral.

The babies breath hang in rejection
They are gasping dumbly for air.

The roses still retain a lavender hue
They long for trembling hands.

Looking up from such an angle...
One might be confused by such display.

They are stale and colorless.
They are not standing in order, like dominoes.

Lazarus help us to understand this paradox.
Flowers should be beautiful and pink.

Not this cobwebbed misery.
This horrible autumnal plummet.

Copyright ©2007 Vincent John Ancona













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ABOUT VJ ANCONA & "INTROSPECTION"



VJ Ancona writes poetry that speaks to the soul. Taking up the confessional style, a most unusual choice, this poet follows in the hallowed footsteps of Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, W.D. Snodgrass and Robert Lowell. The poems are filled with an almost lyrical prosody and speak directly to the readers heart and conscience. Like the title implies, these poems are all about an introspection and examination of the self. They are honest, unapologetic and forgiving at the same time. Welcome to the world of introspection where anything goes and an extreme sense of self discovery is always present.

ABOUT VJ ANCONA

[VJ] Ancona has been writing ever since he could pick up a pencil. When he was 13 he won his first poetry prize for rescuing a dog that had been abused by its former owners and then writing about the experience. Published in Philadelphia's largest newspaper he realized that writing, poetry in particular, was his calling. When VJ was young he took a liking to the 'confessional' style of poetry in the vein of such famous writers as Sylvia Plath and Robert Lowell. For [Vince] the key to good poetry was not a Rhyme Scheme or Iambic Pentameter...it was sincerity, objectivity and an unembarrased sense of nostalgia. The poems all chronicled his life experiences and razor sharp insight into the world around him. Since then his poetry has been hailed by critics nationwide. He has been published in various books, has been featured on various CD's, has done poetry projects for various writers, models, fashion designers, famous photographers and, more recently, celebrities. 2007 brings exciting news for the poet with a promising new book "Introspection" that is pending completion minus a few minor additions. The book will be 50 pages and feature some of his best work. Promotions, Travelling, Negotiating and Networking are top priority as plans for the book continue to unfurl. Stay tuned for more detail and feel free to check out many of the poems found here on this profile!

Literary Award Recipient



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Quotes I Live By:

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved."

-Helen Keller

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.... Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.

-Helen Keller

"College isn't the place to go for ideas."

-Helen Keller

“The impossible - what nobody can do until somebody does”

-Elbert Hubbard

"Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today."

-Mark Twain

"We should take care, in inculcating patriotism into our boys and girls, that is a patriotism above the narrow sentiment which usually stops at one's country, and thus inspires jealousy and enmity in dealing with others... Our patriotism should be of the wider, nobler kind which recognises justice and reasonableness in the claims of others and which lead our country into comradeship with...the other nations of the world. The first step to this end is to develop peace and goodwill within our borders, by training our youth of both sexes to its practice as their habit of life, so that the jealousies of town against town, class against class and sect against sect no longer exist; and then to extend this good feeling beyond our frontiers towards our neighbours."

Lord Baden-Powell

“Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

-Albert Einstein

“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.”

-Anne Frank

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; he world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination re omnipotent. The slogan press on has solved and always will solve he problems of the human race. No person was ever honored for what he eceived. Honor has been the reward for what he gave."

Coolidge



Ralph Waldo Emerson

"I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.

Edward Everett Hale

"Condemnation without investigation is the height of ignorance."

Albert Einstein