Poetry

ANGEL (By Joseph Cavera) Run through the days Like kids on a beach All the ways, In life, is but a small breach Shines the light seeping out through that mask Which conceals a bravado façade Calling me to ask, ...

FALL TONES (By Joseph Cavera) A young lad awakes to cold on Sunday Stirring slowly, quakes to life his way His covers like lovers unravel above Another of is brothers leaving a shove He sees the light peak through his ...

GO BE HAPPY Go be happy. Smile for the camera. Keep moving. Sing and dance like Cab Calloway. Hold his hand and kiss his neck. Buy art deco furniture together. Make sure your shoes match your outfit. Cry with joy ...

Holocaust Redux   They’ll be coming for us, the old lady told the young man  next to her, the two of them sitting on stones under the bridge  surrounded by trolls   sworn to protect them.   Victors come for those  who fight and oppose ...

Camouflage plunging deeper into my miseries i come out of myself, reading threnodies even the camouflage's lost its colour i will watch from the sidelines until i finally drown; until the last flicker bows to the tossing, to the darkness ...

Behind The Door - By Melissa R. Mendelson I don’t like to open the door, where the darkness lies for the darkness will drown me in forever, and the struggle will begin as my monsters will eat me alive. They’ve ...

Building Walls   Someone there is who loves a wall, Piling stones on top of stones, To keep invading wetbacks out, To keep glass pearls secure. He lets our Southern neighbors know, In blaring braggadocio, That they must pay to ...

SANDHOUSE - By Elaine Nadal   When her house was still standing, it sufficed as a place to bathe, eat, and sleep-- a space for the familiar formed by strangers with the same blood drops sprinkled on the dirt, conspicuously ...

HERO OR ZERO? To die on the battlefield leading a charge, Your body upon a shield, burned in a barge – An image heroic of Viking portrayal Approvingly stoic, quite worthy of hail. The fireman rushing pall-mall into blaze As ...

Early Morning, Tucson Foothills Shadows jag over rock and cactus playing tag with the rising sun, nature’s Rorschach asking me what these immense ink blots mean. This one’s the boogeyman scaring/scarring my daughter, that one’s a tarp smothering moist green ...