Poetry

A click and its likeness can't change, curled the way rain yellows though you hold on almost make out the grin that could be yours --it's been years, minutes and even with your arms apart you have forgotten the smell ...

The Odyssey (By John Biscello) Casting my toy boat into the tub and jumping in, I stare at my love, slathered in gauzy bubbles, she of the champagne beard and foam wig; tension mounting, I take a deep breath, exhale, ...

LETTING GO (By Joseph Cavera) There I was, just standing there, when what I wanted to do was forbidden- by law, no less. The opportunity was there, lying before me, in an instance I would not be graced with again ...

■ Drifting Like a violent storm that rages outside and smashes my walls with its power is how I feel when my world grows dark, and I release my fury to salvage the remains ...

Speakfeel Razor branches, pointed-forked roots stretch centrifugal jabs against middle surface Sources swallowed in the lightless void Cancelled fugitives incubated in pure motion, rejecting sides, all allowed Only restored through leaves and petals avid for translucency Shining to meet the ...

Fluttering with your butterflies The room is vast and empty, with only she facing the tall glass; standing she teases her hair once more; peace seems to surround her. Still then, she wonders as she dives into her own soul, ...

Heave of waves rushing toward shore, vast pulse of the sea, thickening, as mermaids hiss and murmur and seaweeds strangle themselves. Body of water, stupendous oceanic heft suspending me above my desire to drown here among broken shells. Massiveness lifting ...

Small Packages - By Gil Hoy I’d like to drink up the Universe from a can of Diet Coke, bought from my ancestors’ most virtuous moments. With no deposit required--can’t be returned without your consent, a secret label on the ...

Carnival That peacock opulence, Swarming on strutting grime; That massed ecstasy, squeezing itself, Short-breathed, near suffocation; That sound-abandonment, seeming to plunge To deafness’s peace; Yet keeping those maimed faculties alive, Ever denying their last fulfilment. Maybe it’s only I and ...

Shaping the Internal Of course it's about the words… their weight, their meaning. Stringing them, placing them, cutting them. Wielding them with passion, fury, and sometimes… regret. With careful measure given to every syllable, every pause. For words are both weapon and ...