Special Edition: Marjorie Pezzoli

Marjorie-Pezzoli

Tears Falling Up

How does one begin a story that shouldn’t have the need to be told? The journey began the day I gave birth to my daughter.

I have come to learn it began before time made itself known. A glimmer of a cosmic portal opened twelve years ago for me. It took

three times around the sun to comprehend how to begin to share the unexplainable. I call Alyssa my StarChild, we communicate in different ways these days. Her eye acts as a guide into the Universe, using both when needed.  I have had many adventures with her. The creative process of writing and art are part of my healing. It took this image prompt to reveal how my silk painting ties into the beginning of our story. I painted it with full intent to be part of our chronicles, just didn’t know how it fit in until now.

solar flares
the third eye blinks
moon awakens

 

H   O  W   to   E  X  P  A  N  D

the entrance to the cosmos

 

 

I close my eyes

face the light

 

///////::::::::

patterns of

 

what ifs

what was

and what is yet to be 

 

floats behind my pupil

 

///////::::::::///////::::::::////;;;;;;;;;

 

move with the rush of blood cells

iris becomes the center of the hour glass

 

the eye of the beholder releases time

pupil contracts —widens —connects

 

cellar quantum networks converge

nano particles begin to shimmer

 

nothingness becomes something

the edge of the void sparkles

 

the vessel of knowledge

spills forth questions

that wait to be answered

 

⥶⥷⥸⥹⦽⥻⥹⥸⬲⥷⥶

⭄⥶∞⥸∞

 

H   O  W   to   E  X  P  A  N  D

the entrance to the cosmos

 

 

I close my eyes

face the light

 

///////::::::::

patterns of

 

what ifs

what was

and what

is yet to be 

 

floats behind my pupil

 

///////::::::::///////::::::::////;;;;;;;;;

 

move with the rush of blood cells

iris becomes the center of the hour glass

 

the eye of the beholder releases time

pupil contracts —widens —connects

 

cellar quantum networks converge

nano particles begin to shimmer

 

nothingness becomes something

the edge of the void sparkles

 

the vessel of knowledge

spills forth questions

that wait to be answered



Marjorie Pezzoli is a poet, and silk painter. Since 2019 her writings have been curated in printed anthologies and online publications: Palabra: Open Mic, San Diego Poetry Annual, A Year in Ink, Heterodox Haiku, Dadakuku, Setu Journal, Starbeck Orion, and others. Guest Editor for the Pattern section of The Body Politic, Nun Prophet Press. Nature, the cosmos, and the human condition inspire Marjorie’s work. She looks for words worth a 1000 images, and rolls out weekly gumballs of poetry, photography, and ponderings. www.PezzoliArt.com www.thecosmicgumballmachine.substack.com

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