Joanne Olivieri
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Title: Red Lanterns
Author: Joanne Olivieri
Genre: Poetry
ISBN:
Publisher: Shadows Ink Publications.
Released in: August 2005
Pages: 32
Book Size: 5.5in x 8.5in
Book format: Paperback
Price: $5
Shipping Cost: $1.50 (within California)
2$ (Within US)
$2.50 (Canada)
Where to buy:
http: //www.shadowpoetry.com/bookstore/redlanterns.html
Chapbook: Red Lanterns
San Francisco October 15, 2005
The Mantra
Let us give birth to your carvings
and redesign your gothic symmetry,
let us resurface sacrificial grounds
with tender strokes and brushed etchings.
Silent as a tear
statuesque deities
blessed by
monastic chants
and ancient rituals
pervade dark halls
the triumphant centurions.
Abstract meanderings
the Poe de'artique
peacefully coexist
with aboriginal mediums.
Our ancestry we salute,
on the river Nile, through
ancient Mayan ruins to the
glory that was Rome.
A celebration of culture
that is us, ours, we together
as one family - our city
embracing the diversity.
by Joanne Olivieri
Source: Red Lanterns, 2005, p.13
A twilight canvas
barren of life
prelude to the masterpiece
hovers unseen
upon desolate skies
waiting to be fashioned.
Out of darkness
they emerge
white winged choreographers
painting circles and
breeding life.
Seagulls At Night soar,
faithfully,
indiscriminately
a free form phenomenon.
by Joanne Olivieri
Source: Red Lanterns, 2005, p.1
Oh, how they kiss the winds
With a cultural embrace.
A harmonious balance
Alights the promenade,
Feng Shui.
An escape to tradition
A journey of peace
And silent affirmation.
The cleansing of spirit and home,
Red Lanterns
Await the dawn
Of the Lunar New Year.
Gong Xi Fa Cai!
The air was dense, humid - a pungent aroma of diesel fuel, baked yams, and other harbor delicacies. I'd been sightseeing for hours, roaming the busy streets of Kowloon immersed in cultural flavor. It was time to navigate my way back to the hotel for some R and R before heading out to the waterfront InterContinental Hotel for a little sass-and-class jazz fever.
In an effort to replenish my dehydrated, overwhelmed body, I walked along the Star Ferry promenade - my favorite spot in Tsimshatsui - towards Canton Road, searching for something to quench my hot-flash-induced thirst. I spotted the Golden Arches along Salisbury Road and found my way to the dining area.
It was crowded and noisy, the familiar back-home scenario. I ordered my Diet Coke and sat down at a table with a family of four. Mom, dad, and a little brother and sister, aged about five and six. I greeted them with a hello, quickly realizing they did not speak English when they returned my salutation with nods and smiles.
Having forgotten a straw, I sipped my Coke from the cup. The children were adorable; I was mesmerized by the laughter and wonderment emanating from their sweet Asian eyes.
I watched as the boy bit off the tips of a french fry, inserted it into his ice cream cone, and began sipping. I wondered whether his attempt at using the fry as a straw was indeed working. I'm sure the puzzled look on my face was apparent when out of nowhere he grabbed another fry from the pile and handed it to me. I instinctively knew his intention, bit off the tips and into my Coke I inserted the fry. Wow! It did work. With a wink and a smile I nodded to the child. I will never forget the smile he returned.
This simple gesture by a young boy made me realize that communication comes from within and language barriers really do not exist as long as we listen with our hearts.
4:00 a.m. madness
Startled, I awaken in an anxiety born stupor. It's 4:00 a.m. Sunday morning. In the distance a siren announces a 911 while a car alarm bellows out of control. Cars race an uncontrollable rage through empty streets. Light flickers through my window yet I know there is no light outside other than the moon displaying its devilish grin. Is it a warning? I scare myself into blind paralysis. Staring into oblivion my body is frozen with fear. The incessant ticking of the clock - a breathing crescendo drowning my pulse. Paper rustling outside my door though the wind silent. Is it the house settling? A raccoon rummaging? Or, is it my mind damning my sensibilities?
Haunting memories invade speaking to me in tongues, unexplained. Nocturnal entities without form parade the darkness. I shrink under the covers yet the unheard and unseen more frightening than the perception of reality I cannot escape. A sudden scream wails from a neighboring house and my senses freeze. It becomes difficult to breathe and my body shivers. Fear surrounds me. I sit up in my bed afraid of what torture lies ahead within my mind, outside my door. The wooden gate within the yard slams shut. Still, there is no wind. My heart races. Each nerve a pulsating tendril. Embraced by fear all I can do is wait for the arrival of day.
The first commuter train barrels down the street and I know dawn is near. The distinct sound of a plane overhead reminds me of a friend half a world away and I smile. The restlessness of the night fades and I fall into an apprehensive slumber knowing there was something out there, but what?
Tired, I awaken from a dream of which I cannot recall. For some reason my ex weighs heavily on my mind though I don't know why. Maybe it's because I miss the perfect yellow rose I'd receive every Sunday morning. I walk across the room and open my door to the courtyard breathing in the crisp fragrant floral foliage. The sun shines with a positive arrogance leaving me optimistic of the day's journey. Stepping outside I find perched upon my doorstep, a withered yellow rose
