WAR SPECULATION (By Joseph Cavera) “its so scary…..when all the bullets have been fired, and all the men of one side are eternally dismissed…..the world about them lies in mess of shrapnel and waste- shattered, and in flames”
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DARKWATER BEACH (By Joseph Cavera) The moon lies low On the blackened shores The tide is impenetrable Under this darkening sky Mirth so absent, in the undertow The ravishing darkness, from longevic lores Each wave skips- inimitable This place is different! Cries out the wistful cores Life out here is scarcer But at peace. The Darkness is not always […]
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Word Bubbles Travel with me a moment into a place where our thoughts become action. Yes, this sounds like the introduction to a 60s science fiction series. Pardon me. There are some ideas I wish to keep secret. They are my tangle of vines, grounding me in reality. Reminding me that I don’t have to throat punch someone. All I […]
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THE LOVE BUSINESS (By Joseph Cavera) It’s never simple, This business you, you know Be it fading ripples Ebb and flow The rises and falls never cease To come, and go And yet…we persist We press on with what we are While the pain seems to insist That reality shapes a scar Not one we see or sense […]
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EKPHRASIS, EKPHRASIS (By Joseph Cavera) Soon I’ll See Another Red Hand, Pulling Known Entities Nearer And Nearer, Even Kings Pray “Halt” ‘Round Sinister Inhuman Slaughter…
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Age Has Curtains An incident in youth never meant to happen recorded on a pad to be read another time is found decades later in a drawer of socks by the writer who is then on the precipice of age. His reading glasses help him understand who it was and why he did it. Not so funny now. Can’t apologize. He’s […]
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On White Wings I Fly (For Misha Collins) (Parody of Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive”) by, Melissa R. Mendelson It’s always the same, only the monsters will change Everyday seems like the heroes are fading away Another catastrophe, where Hope is losing hold I’d fly all night just to be by their side Chorus: I’m […]
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Do not sneer at this poem Call me a bard of doom But do not sneer at this poem: The searing sun tickled the ribs of the sky it all stared, yes, that tragedy began with a safe smile squirting in the form of slender drizzles like sick tubers. they say Mother Nature is slow to anger indeed, a […]
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Insomnia The house sleeps, but I am awake, tiptoeing back through my day. So many pieces left lying about, I want to fix them all. They’re too distant though, just beyond my fingertips, yet, squarely between me and my dreams.
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All I need is a drop of dew and the shade of cherry tree to think to think a lovely thought.
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