© Joanne Olivieri 2014 - 2015 All Rights Reserved

Night Visions

Streets, dark, empty
musical noir sax
hits exotic highs
filling the emptiness
of broken sidewalks
illuminated by the moon.

Firecrackers ablaze
while street lamps flicker
burnt fog lurks
through narrow corridors
and the stillness
speaks a jazz riff.


The sun has awakened
Dawn has arrived
A fog dampened morning
Eludes our sky.
Birds hum in rhyme
A melodic chord
Debuting our day
A new song born.
The purest of air
With wind so crisp
Refreshes our face
As rain and mist.
A colorful bouquet
Of pansies so sweet
Enchant with a smile
Our eyes so to see.
A new day is here
Awaiting the chance
To embrace our hearts
Rekindle romance.

nameless faces

Walking foreign steps
to the rhythm of taiko
the pulse of erhu
dancing Buddha.

Cantonese croonings
lotus flower soft
silk smooth
operatic chants.

Lanterns parade
a welcome smile
nameless faces
yet known.

Humid mist
Eastern breeze
incense fog
scents of life.

and the journey begins

Sea Cultures

Indigo gemstones
Coalesce into iridescent
Prisms of reflection
Creating cavernous worlds
Anchored below
Concrete technology.

An ancient kaleidoscope
Unspoiled, untouched
Naturally evolved
The modes of discovery
Beneath the surface.

Iditarod Dreams
for Sabrina

Gentle whispers

she hears

the call of the wild

as distant echoes

A snowflake quilt

warms her

and weaves quiet


Paws rooted

within Mother earth


her playground

Yellowstone geysers

to Malibu white sands

she travels

gently through life


her navigator


her soul



A Knowing

Snow Goddess

For Sabrina

Her eyes reflect
the Sun’s kiss
as she walks
upon water.

Her wisdom traced
on paw print sands
as she softly treads
along the shore.

She dreams
of snow-laden earth
while paws frolic
upon icy sea foam.

Sabrina, goddess of snow
spreads warmth
melts hearts
on Winter’s playground

with love…

Tangled limbs


sitting bare

a desolate wilderness

quietly commingling

Far and Away

Moonlight pales
And I think of you
A distant echo
Another realm
   with me
   nowhere to be found

Tian Tan Buddha

Serene majesty rests atop
lotus flower throne.
His bronze elegance
adorns the Lantau sky.

Facing North
a mountain peak
on earthly ground
the temple of heaven.

Right hand raised
affliction begone!
Left hand rest
a gesture of giving.

Serene in stature
overseer of peace
worshipped by mortals
and immortals bearing fruit.

A  massive stone symbol
human of spirit
energy of life
they offer praise.

Climbing step after step
warmed by his smile
captivated by his eyes
humbled by his presence.

A hypnotic fog
emanates around him
as visitors encircle
and offer prayers.

Hours entranced

In a spiritual kinship
with him, tranquility
occupies my spirit.

Avenue of the Stars
Hong Kong

By night
by day,
a glittering galaxy
of stars
align the promenade
in Hollywood fashion
Asian style.

A tribute,
standing proud
stone carved
is the Hong Kong film award.
A curvaceous monument,
she gallantly welcomes
tourists to the waterfront.

Her native son
in martial arts form,
Bruce Lee
the star of the show.

Handprints outlined
in etched stars.
Colorful kiosks
hawking memorable
tidbits of cinematic

Statuette film directors
provide backdrops
for curious shutterbugs,
as visitors stroll
dazzled and beguiled.

Avenue of the Stars -
an iconic symbol
of celebrity,
a testament
to Eastern pride.

Jubilee Street

Smoky Incense
orange, mango and pear
offered to Buddha
in a wooden alcove.

The street lined
as a red carpet event
with paper lanterns
green, pink, red, gold.

Hand woven baskets
home to fruits,  flowers
bok choy and cabbage
strewn among street stalls.

Neighbors along the street,
raw silk, pots and pans,
souvenirs and toys
compete for attention

and the Hong Kong dollar.

Morning tai chi

Eastern sun
slowly rises
Victoria Harbour

erhu strings
dawn rituals

and we move
in unison
as one

unspoken vibrations
musical meditations

enlightened affirmations!

Sleep travel

My dreams
carry me away
to a land foreign
yet as familiar
as home

flying through
ancient temples
market streets
lush green
and mystical mountains.

I awaken
with tears of joy
and sorrow
for I am not there

until I return
my dreams
will embrace
the far off land
within my heart.

The Aviary
Hong Kong Park

Birds harmonize
Cantonese tales
weaving heirlooms
among lotus flowers.

Nicobar pigeon
rests upon bamboo planks
while orange leaf bird
poses for photos.

White crested hornbill
the virtuoso of dance
pirouettes across
rippling ponds.

And the chorus
through pond spice
and tree cotton
echo against bamboo clumps.

Tai chi garden
sits calm, serene
against a backdrop
of kapok and candlenut trees.

The air warm, humid
the sky grey, misty
as I revel within nature
amongst a bustling metropolis
of tree fern and
feathered chorus line.

K. C. and the Arts Center

We greet
with a reverent bow
and warm handshake.

Reverent – irreverent
artifacts decorate
desolate walls.
Haunting, amusing
eccentric mediums,
creative illusions
brought to life
upon canvas and paper.

Panoramic calligraphy
vertical poetry
spotlights stories
of rivers and ponds
as K.C. explains
in broken English,
my reply
a reverent bow
and broken Cantonese.

We relate, communicate
in poetic harmony
both poets and artists
from different lands
together as fate
would dictate
the creative connection.

dic si

They colonize
all 18,000
weaving in and out
of traffic, side streets,
slopes and corners.
Right sided
hunting their prey
as ants to honey.

Nathan Road

bric a brac hawk

chungking flop
mansion that is.

Burmese Python

A camouflage predator
he melds into branches
sleek as an eel
cunning as a fox.

Fire hose thick
an ominous hug
around gnarled branches
the death grip.

Still as a moment
housed and caged
by a wooden pagoda
alone and feared.

I attempt a picture
interrupted silence
with a sharp turn
he glares at me.

My fear mirrored
in dark, black eyes
and I retreat
never to return.

Been Around The Block

In no particular fashion
my feet splintered
carrying pieces of
bare soul.

I've been above
below and beyond
searching for home
leading nowhere,
while the road less taken
breeds familiarity and
I stumble across
my past.

Broken pebbles
line my soles
and the pain
only memory

Trudging through
the endless maze
of roadblocks
home eludes me.

To bare the drudgery
of past indiscretions
I must walk
above and across
the endless pitfalls
this journey provides.

My path
only lighted
by the wisdom
born of ageless
trial and error and
the path paved
with lessons learned.

Now, I walk
around the block
where my feet
are grounded
to the comforts
of home.

Writer's Block

She awaits
the rise of the moon
when the call of the wild
imbues creative energies
waiting to be set free.

The notebook paper
stares back at her
naked, a desolate wilderness
desperately longing
to be clothed
in artistic garb.

Her pen
a broken instrument
with which she holds on for life
yet falls dead within her fingers
and the paper sits bare, alone
clinging to nothingness
devoid of essence.

With the slow demise
of her cerebral fashionista
the paper seems familiar
as it mirrors the blank corridors
of her mind.
Sanitized by it's emptiness
both mind and paper

And the silence is deafening.
A quiet oasis begging
for the wind to breathe life
into this mindless desert,
yet the wind stifled
and her thoughts stand still
going nowhere.

Though enticing as it seems
this recycled slab of wood pulp
lies undistinguished
a bare bones form
without meaning,
just as her mind
sits unknown
in skeletal remains
without image.

And she writes.

Jazz Climax
A tribute to Sony Holland
at the Empire Plush Room

The room hauntingly still
with mosaic tiles staring down
upon the audience.
Pink and red lights glare
like the eye of a storm
pouncing across the stage.
Lights dim and the music begins.
Ebony and ivory notes
meld with the pounding crescendo of drums.
Hot sax man plays it high and low
while the bass hovers
a musical fog.

And the introduction!
Thunderous applause
echoes while the star
rises to the occasion.
To the nines,
dressed Out Of This World
and the spotlight dull
in comparison to her beauty.
Her voice soft,
smooth velvet whispers
shower the room
in vocal elegance.
Lyrical reverberations
echo beyond the stage
and the room full
with sultry innocence
the sass and class monogamy.
Piano man sets the tone
tickling each key
to perfection.

At Last!
As the song goes…
Sensual bluesy rhythms
fuel the senses
with hot anticipation
while the audience swoons
in wild adulation
as rhythmic beats
rise and heighten
to a point of no return –
the jazz climax.
And she takes her bow.

Dark Summer

My senses numb
as blistering rays
seep through my skin
cold as ice
stinging my heart.
In limbo I reside
where tears
are my comfort
releasing the pain
like brilliant stars
lighting the darkness.

Another In Your Arms

when our eyes met
that playful grin
enveloped me
as always.
Another in your arms
as I knew
it would be
made me
want more of you.
Those few minutes
we shared
the flirtatious
made me realize
how happy I am
this is not love
but lust.

For The Critics

poetic justice is found
on the road to truth
where confidence resides
and the tongue exudes
a wisdom unto itself
expressed freely, openly
without care of the banal criticism
offered by those who say,
yet, do not do!


The room spins
as a slideshow
out of control.

body and mind
encircling visions.

I stand falling
to the left
to the right

Eyes flicker
as pixels on
a computer screen

fear born
without wings.

without alcohol
a sobering

gestures of

I lay softly
as snow on branches
still in the midst
of chaos.

Yet the room spins
a monotonous carousel

Stop the motion
meandering madness
and let me see
a still life.

Shakespeare Garden

And the leaves speak
through silent branches
their voices carried
by winds of change.

Mother Earth colors
Autumnal hues
warmly toasted
reflections of the sun.

November noon
debuts a play
where nature’s performance
unfolds seasons.

And the stage is set.

Bolivian Rhythms

I remember these tunes
so vividly in my mind
Bolivian rhythms
wafting across the square.

Haunting flutes
echo against
once forgotten senses.

The memories linger
sweet incantations
swirling pulses
throughout my veins.

Ethnic vibrations
chanting strings
tell of the stories

hidden in my soul.

Inspiration Path

Walking along
ocean beach
mist bathes me
as salt tears
on feather pillows
mumble affirmations

A distant foghorn
echoes resounding waves
as a dull bass
strums undertones
and awakens daydreams
skimming stones

Saltwater cotton
iridescent sea foam
clash against
high tide
forming footprints
on golden sands

Quietly I walk
softly I tread
joyously in solitude

Ethereal Beach Walk

He walks among saltwater sea tears
skimming forgotten footprints
eroding the shore.

Translucent silver jewels
reflect the sun
forming crystalline memories.

Child's play echoes off turquoise depths
and thunderous wavelengths
cleansing high tide.

He hears, sees and feels
clinging as a barnacle to shore
buried as a sand dollar

beyond footprints.


yourself in buttery
softness, licking
syrupy maple
from my core.

my crunchy
essence, biting
my sweet crevices
yearning for more.

It’s Not About The Almighty Dollar

Her coin purse empty

Her garb 50% off

Her smile worth a million

And a heart full of gold.

Tree Commune
a series of haiku

a diverse species
hugging limbs

sharing the wind's breath
mingling leaves

standing free
a natural commune

Missing You
For Sone

Union square
a frenzied chaos, silent
without you

sky ocean earth

sky, ocean and earth
meet beyond the horizon
daily reunion

Poetry Born

I type
thoughts jumbled
dissected jargon
creating silhouettes.
Kaleidoscope waves
half tones
to breeze
Words synchronized
form lifelines
giving birth.

Alcatraz island

the bay side fortress
houses felonious ghosts
Alcatraz island

Spring Snowflakes

cherry blossoms
blanket barren branches
Spring snowflakes

Email: Contact Me




No comments: