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Thomas Scaglione, III  (email, MySpace)

 

About the Poet:

Thomas Scaglione III is a 19 year old student at Saint Leo University, Florida. He is currently double majoring in Psychology and Biology with a minor in Philosophy. He writes for the student newspaper, The Lions' Pride (www.pride-online.net), and also sells his drawings, writings, and photographs through the side business that is co-owned by his sister Brandy Scaglione.

 

 

The Masquerade

 

With false faces of animals and beasts,

  we danced through the night’s ball with smiles and cheers!

 

Our eyes lost forever in each other’s gaze and our hands embraced in passionate love,

  we knew nothing more than that moment.

 

Knew nothing but that mere millisecond of evanescent reality,

  and yet we were oddly drunk with its transitory euphoria.

 

And as we spun ‘round on the checkered dance floor, strangers amidst jesters on parade, we knew that it could never last…for we knew each other not.

 

And the bands melody must come to an inevitable end and we would go back to our dwellings alone,

  only to remember that fleeting moment when we looked into each other’s false faces and saw a part of ourselves in the other’s eyes.

 

 

Lily Petals in a Moonlit Lagoon

 

After the satin sheets run through, and the gold turns green,

And the highlights fade, and you’re fat instead of lean,

After the diamonds crack, and the wine goes sour,

The glitz fades, and the toughness cowers,

The heart you have broken will always be,

The same place you left it, still beating inside of me.

And the tears shall fall, for it is now known,

The pains of the punches that you had thrown.

The hollow cavity in your chest throbbed,

With the echoes of love you once robbed.

And no one shall shed a mourning tear,

While you fade into the mirror you held so dear.

And the reflection you see will die too,

With the all too classic karmic cue.

There will be no one waiting on the other side,

Only your last remaining thought… that you had lied.

 

 

Silhouetted Envy

 

Shadows! Oh, how I envied those clever phantoms of the night!

So evolved they must be, avoiding the burns of heavenly embers burning bright.

Never a stone that breaks their stride, nor a fall to cripple or maim.

Nor skin to scar, when the unruly Earth is set aflame.

A life free of eggshell worry-walking and secular trouble.

Oh, how I wanted to be my darker double!

But now I realize the truth of my greedy affair,

That I was envious of primal urges and despair.

From Prometheus’ stolen fire, gift intended,

To Eden’s peaceful ignorance ended,

Those silent sins, once amorphous, now formed,

The gods have punished us to lives deformed.

Our proper reflection upon the sand,

Marked and greased upon the land,

A personal smudge on the purity of man.

And now I realize when in shadow’s clan,

I should pity the silhouette I foolishly thought so grand,

For it will never know the pleasure of another's comforting hand.