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Entangled poetry is a new space where expression dares and explores playfully. It is a redefined use of language, stretching its scope and abilities to attempt to convey emotions greater than its deliverer and recipient. Poetry dances to musical notes, musical notes emerge from artistic expression, and artistic expression oozes spoken word. A holistic, enmeshed, and transformative experience, a journey that can be insightful, amusing, invigorating, and memorable. This cutting-edge delivery leverages the latest technologies to tell the story that speaks to the Soul rather than the avatar that hosts it. In other words, welcome to poetry on the blockchain, metaphysical speculations in prose forever encoded in the ether, and possibly, your unique, ethereal DNA!

Entanglement of Particles

Entanglement of Particles

Walk With The Giants

Walk With The Giants

Walk with the giants Run, rush, race Do these people know that my legs are much shorter than theirs? While they love me to pieces, why do they hold my hand and speed through places? My loving mother is proudly clasping my hand and trying to make the brisk walk An adventure and a fun race. My little legs would never want to disappoint her Or slow down her pace. I forfeit looking around and trying to take in The details of the people we pass by. Where could we possibly be going? What would happen if we took it down a notch? She’s just so beautiful, my heroine. Sometimes dad grabs my other hand And together, they lift both my feet in an assisted high jump. I learn about the thrill as adrenaline rushes through my tiny, chubby body. I could get addicted to this. I never know when the wallop is going to come back. Makes my run Much more exhilarating. Life today. You never know when the jolt is going to hit. An awful lot of pedaling, a bewildering game of keeping up, and having to Miss out on happenings all around. And connecting with fellow humans. My giant husband holds my hand. He’s confident, but he too, Is trying to keep up. No bigger giant is pulling his hand But he’s on a steady, swift, barely sustainable pace. I keep on going, with my tiny little legs. God, he’s just so gracious through all of this. He makes it look so smooth And easy, essential, and effortless. I love his smile. I would do anything to keep up with that sight. A caring, capable, cheerful smirk, checking down on me. Making it all worth it. Her hair is wavy and bouncy of an impeccable natural blonde. Just above shoulder length. A black velvet overall Snugly wraps my tiny body. Hips and cheeks rule the game of cuteness. My smile is ear to ear. Irresistible windows decorate my frothy, still-teething mouth. I move about like a mighty puny duckling on a ferocious river bank on my way to the sea. I am too small to navigate it on my own, but I am damn well going to keep up With my clan. I would do anything this colossal woman would ask me to do, I’d go anywhere she’d pull me along. Her love oozes all over her aura. Her soul is so right and upright Immaculate and compassionate. I wish I knew where we were going. Ambitions, intentions, commissions, obligations Places to be and things to do. Incessant timetable. So many options. So many possible actions. So much of everything and so little of nothing. Like breathing room. One-way streets and unexpected turns. I dash through. Holding on tight to those strong, substantial hands. We are onto something, always. Like little ants, we keep on going, hectic. That’s what we do. Hold on and go. Grasp and proceed. When do we know we have arrived? And when can one take a lull? When do we know we have built enough? Gathered adequately? Is the world going to end if we stop the motion? Come what may, I go on. If she keeps pulling me, I emulate. Exhaustion sets in. But she’s just so pretty. I stumble. I pull myself back up and Keep on going. Everyone around me keeps bustling. No matter the flounder. It is just harder on my little legs. Everyone seems to wear a smile On their faces when they look up. That must be a good thing. I will not take a rest if he doesn’t. We are one, We are a duo—two sides of the same coin. I have to contend. I trust that a time when we can halt is near. And devour a deep breath. There has to be a time when the motion Harmonizes with inertia, and life continues. Chaos and movement must bear calm and repose. I want to find peace within the off movement of the oscillation. In the present day, the machine is always on. Mightier than ever. Like a pulling, loving, giant mother Like a soulmate, partner, strong leader Life drives you to be one with nature Despite the depth of your Soul’s roots, it keeps you moving. Seasons, days, moments, things, and more things. All life within and without is one with movement. Relentless and neutral. Got to learn to walk with the giants and Smell the flowers, take a deep breath, hug a man Through the unexpected excitement or the offbeat. We are in a dance between slowing down while keeping up And our present is everything in between our strong grip on love and the breathing gap.


Unicycle 7 pm, costume on, start with the make up Feed the cat, shut the door, take the subway Get to work, find the changing room, check the setup Forget the day, put on a face, and get ready to play Spotlight, crowd stands, the show is on, he is in the zone Make people laugh, do the same old tricks, and hear them clap Sweat hard, fill another role, everyone’s impressed, yet this man’s alone The show ends, performers line up, lights on, and bow as he removes his cap Rushes to changing room, finds his clothes, a sock is missing, what’s new? Removes the makeup; everyone is talking, and his head is exploding Who took his sock? One foot is cold; the other has a hole, the man doesn’t sew Pants are getting loose, and shirt needs a bath, some ironing, or better folding The director storms in with the usual critiques and monologue No one listens; the man thinks his cat may be scratching the velvet chair He knows that the show can always be better, from the stunting to the dialogue No one knows how hard he tries. That’s why he lost his hair Leaves the dressing room, hangs his costume, and the curtain he pulls back Limping, with an empty stomach and a new stash of cash Quietly avoids conversation and looks for a snack in the black raggedy backpack He leaves through the back door, darting off in a flash Walks to the subway, one with the multitude, no longer standing out Feeling at ease within the loneliness of chaotic cosmopolitan masses Looking for a way through the crowded door before he makes the conductor shout At last on the way home, hanging on in the train, no seats for the lower classes 11:05 pm keys ready, finding the hole, cat behind the door House is ghostly, dark, cold, and the moldy smell doesn’t forgive Jacket off, fire on, neighbors are fighting on the upper floor Says ‘hi’ to the cat, pours some wine, and wonders why to live 12:09 am time for bed, one more time, another day, too tired to cry The monotony, repetition, and solitude are now embedded in his daily cycle Closes his eyes, and looks inside, through the mazes of the ‘why?’ Sadness led him to forget to honor the man who’s a master at the unicycle Who once upon a time knew how to glide with curiosity and courage through life’s roadblocks Who practiced endless hours and rehearsed over and over his lines and demanding drill Who had hair and knew how to sing, tell a joke, and bothered to buy new socks Who loved to propel the pedals that turned the one wheel that made him shine at life’s hardest skill
The Pianist

The Pianist

The Pianist White, black, white, white, black Key after key, like a carefully handpicked Bouquet of wildflowers is placed in a Handblown Murano glass, the notes Find their way through the skilled fingers Onto the perfectly tuned instrument Hand motion and intuition Interact and intersect in a deceivingly random synergy A communication as hard to decipher as to replicate A language spoken in colors, flashing images Palm sweats and tickled tear ducts Telepathic synchronicity Exalted and poetic, electrifying and powerful Where do the notes come from? Who impels and imparts the sequences That make up the frequencies That fulfill the Soul in a way that puts speech to shame? Who’s beckoning the pianist, The instrument or God, on this magnetic twilight? The pianist tames the overwhelming emotions With the masterful confidence of a veteran tamer On a roadshow’s lion’s cage Directing his hungry beasts to jump Through hoops of fire Butterflies, like fireworks on the rich, young, darkening sky Of a hot summer night Burst out of the melodies, dancing Pirouetting, spiraling in a fast pace that is as scattered as elegant And as intricate as natural Magician, the musician Whose instrument he owns And maneuvers like it is an extension Of his own limbs. Windows open, curtains blowing frenzy in and Outside the sill, inflating and stretching, twirling and slapping Through rhythms so rich the room cannot contain All the deeply rooted chagrins Gather up to be relinquished to the glory And triumph that results from letting go To the ravish. The music, the medicine, and the canvas. All the questions, the yearnings, the untold truths, The misunderstandings and the unaccomplished dreams Alchemically transmute into tunes of surrender and forgiveness Abandonment and restorative healing Like a swing ride that gains speed And continues its momentum despite the intentional push The music takes flight and owns the space. A big bang explosion that breaks down the performer and the spectator Into fractal pieces, intimate and naked, Indecent and introspective The turbulence subsides, and the crowd stands. The collective and no one individual is the same Transformed by the story that no one can tell But everyone knows Deep, profound tale of a boy, his piano, and the journey Between his Soul and his fingers, the wooden hammers and the strings The melody and the clap, the womb and the stage, now and forever


Eden Is it the mountains? Is it the sea? It is that exquisite place in the plains A plateau that equals the space between you and me There are brooks and plenty of wildflowers Luscious green grass all year round One might get startled by the occasional showers And plenty of juicy fruits can be found The birds and the bees dwell there, you know ‘Cause the nectar and the pollen are leaked by the gods The horizon gives way to infinitude beyond sparse peaks of snow And the size of landform and vegetation defies all odds Paths unfold as you cross them And clouds drift the sky in an alluring fashion You connect with all living things, from a rock to a stem Nothing is commonplace and doesn’t make an impression Thoughts become real, and no words you need Birds speak your language without moving their beak You see a flower and the journey from its day of a seed You perceive all nuances down to the finest streak Magic abounds, and beauty sings in glory Mountain lions, eagles, reptiles, and minute critters They all know who you are, have been, your whole story Time echos mysteriously through their invisible transmitters A butterfly tries to land on your nose A delightful tickle of anticipation results You feel your body transmute into a succulent rose Your Soul roars while the setting, as one, exults This place I cherish is of divine provenance And no map or coordinates can hold its magnitude It is a space that needs no rules or governance And exceeds the boundaries of latitude and longitude While mountains and seas delight the view and experience This place I revere is best defined by feelings and insight ‘Cause rhymes, chords, or brush strokes may reproduce its appearance But your glance, and that alone, can do it right.
Dear Sweet Little One

Dear Sweet Little One

Little One Dear sweet little one Today is the day all sadness was suddenly gone Today is the day the sky turned on the sun And today is the day the pursuit of happiness had finally begun When I saw your perfect little face for the first time I heard a magical sound, like a distant, rare chime Those shiny eyes I met and committed to you, infinite love The kind that starts under the ocean and pierces the sky above I wished for your every dream to come true and laughter to spare Everything I knew within the first hour, I wanted to share I whispered in your ears that I would always walk the path by your side And your every accomplishment I would celebrate with pride I saw all the things you could be in one delicious glance And I saw you holding the secrets of this universal dance I held you tightly against my chest and kissed the tip of your nose And felt so grateful that it was me, the mommy you chose And when your voice I heard through your first wee tears My Soul knew that from that moment on, I would know no fears I would cross seas, climb mountains, and tame dragons I would learn to blow steam and pull all shapes and sizes of wagons With you in my life, all my superpowers wondrously returned My senses were heightened, and my lessons were learned I was now a new woman with an urgent mission on hand I was fueled to make you the leader of my world and conqueror of my land Today is the day in which you joined me in the physical game Today is the day in which I finally uttered your name My profound bond with you knows no time or space Because you, my sweet little one, represent to me the entire human race.


What are Entangled Poems? Spoken-Word poetry, art, and music NFTs by Francesca.

What are NFT’s? Non-fungible tokens are digital representations of unique items that are not interchangeable. Each token is unique and has separate ownership and associated metadata, including proof of authenticity. Examples of non-fungible tokens include media collectibles, artwork, music, game items, and real estate.

Where do I buy, sell or trade Entangled Poetry? Currently on Rarible and OpenSea

How do I buy on these exchanges? A complete guide on how to set up and use a Metamask Wallet which will enable you to purchase, trade, and sell on various exchanges. Metamask FAQ's.

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Francesca is a mother, wife, and relentless thinker. She was born and raised in Venice, Italy. She studied oriental languages at the University Ca'Foscari until a life-changing trip to the United States changed the course of her life. On her last night in Los Angeles, she attended a rapturing show where she met her soulmate and now husband of 21 years. While her deep love for her husband amplified her passion for writing, she always had a fondness for beautiful words, rhyme, and metaphysics. Philosophical quests and controversial spiritual and occult inquiries spiral and interweave her everyday enterprises, culminating in hours of research, self-analysis, and more writing. In 2014, Francesca self-published a love poetry chapbook, Special Someone. Today, the mother of two amazing young men, she is committed to supporting them in their quest for self-fulfillment and singular expression.  

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