CLICHÉD Beggars can’t be choosers, For there is no choice for losers, And as paupers we must stand with open hand. Seeing is believing, But can also be deceiving When you’re grieving that you’re down and out again. Cruising for a bruising, If you’re thin-skinned, makes excusing Your intrusions not so simple of a chore. Striking while […]
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JUST FOR KICKS (By Joseph Cavera) There once was a fool named Scott, Who enjoyed kicking things a lot To his surprise, He met his demise, When he kicked a meteor that was still hot
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Night of labyrinth VI I never intended to die in my dreams again With a staff of anguished of pain In a broad day hour In a sit of castled crown of devastation Weakly the hours of seeing in discrete manner Hope not to witness or see again in hours of failure Turn our thinking into waste garage In […]
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My Heart In A Cave by, Melissa R. Mendelson A long time ago, I had a dream that I hid my heart deep inside a cave. Why I did this? I don’t know, but now I was stumbling through the darkness, struggling to hear its beat. Its rhythm had thundered across the stone walls once. It thunders no more, […]
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TONIGHT’S EARLY MORNING I open my window in the middle of tonight’s Early morning after the nightly thunderstorms To hear the cry of a lone bird flying through the fog And looking for a place safe and dry, his wings Weighted down with water and sleepiness The way I am weighted down with the memories Of her laughter […]
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The Cross Near the Edge A too small cross in a big wayside shrine amidst the fields on the fertile loess soil, soon to be devoured by the bucket wheel excavator, a monstrous word for an even more monstrous machine. The shrine made of dark red brick, plain, simple, solid, almost for eternity, like the many farmhouses here; […]
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I bring a milkshake every other week to an old man in a nursing home, a refugee from Germany who paid me 50 cents to cut his grass when I was a kid in Chicago after WWII. I couldn’t understand him then and I can’t understand him now but 50 cents was big money in 1950, 10 candy bars, 10 […]
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Bucket List before I expire, i’d defy the laws of gravity, by breastroking through the atmosphere, upwards. i’ll then settle on the fluffiest of the floating beds in the sky; sipping copiously from my bottle of malta in high spirit. then borrow from mr. eagle, his sharp lenses to visualize the world from above in a new dimension. […]
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FRANKFURT PIG (By Joseph Cavera) There once was a pig from Frankfurt, Who found he had grime on his shirt, He believed neither eye As he sullied a silk tie After spending a day, or two, in the dirt Now our dear friend had a quandry “How could such pure muck come upon me?” I can’t go wrong […]
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IN THE BRUSH (By Joseph Cavera) In to out is unearthed and free description, encryption form friction as fiction is subdivided into purest Soliloquy Silver screens form the veil that shrouds as memories and processes slowly deride senses that tried to confide hazy screams and dreamy clouds Sometimes we create our own destruction the fabrications we devise […]
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