My New Poem, “Leaving Blue Doors,” Now Live at Spillwords Press NYC

voiceless rhythms hide conflict behind earless wallscobblestones assembled centuries ago, bask in white lightforgotten names of flowers already seared into my raw fleshpink and crimson colors hovering with their scentexploding like a trap door in the tiny hairs of my nostrilsbarren is his constant silence, which feels like screaminganxiously red eyes stare, as your tall […]

Read More My New Poem, “Leaving Blue Doors,” Now Live at Spillwords Press NYC

Sorrowful Surrogate

  Ripe the delicate fig I place inside my hungry mouth,its flavor heightened by a residue of sugar left on midnight lipssliding sluggishly down with laudanum and brandy Opening a cross-window, I watch your tall silhouette movesated, down the dark street with your tricorne hatas our smells fused with the oils of our young bodies,I […]

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Fledgling

in the waking hours, I hear your breathcrusted sands of the past are in your eyesreminders of painlies that lick the dustsheets that once knew lusterstolen from an innocentdevouring me like a vulturelost, I linger like the fledglingafraid to leaveafraid to stayliving in the in-betweendying in the shadows Poem and photo by Joni Caggiano – […]

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White Flower

To you who give your love to Him unseen, unknown His love aboundsDrifting from your locks, hues of ruby, golden wheat and reddish brownsAdulation, knees red from our supplication drift up to God, Our LordTo smite the enemies of His devoted with the Authority of His SwordAngels with coronets of Sacred Blue Lily and the […]

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Blue-Green Algae

A patch of dandelions sway with rhythm down by the murky old pondFor the north wind blows breezes of olden days and mysteries bornTheir long thin necks hold round cottony seeds for new life to spawnLike endless weeping willows wailing to the fish telling tales of scorn Those catfish hunters don’t come around anymore in […]

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Climbing Trees

Sweat oozed from my pores as I ran toward the barnSand spurs stung the bottoms of my fleeing feetAs I sprinted wildly toward Margie’s southern farmI prayed my drunk daddy would do me no harm In the woods, I had played with dollies and climbed treesThe big three, one with a treehouse I had visited […]

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Making Eggs

Tied up, beat up, washcloth stuffed into her bruised mouthTwo legs and two arms tied to bedposts in a messy fashionMuffled screams came from their room quite a frightful sightHow was I to tell my mom a normal, love you, and good night Why didn’t he just shut the door and save me from this […]

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