Death Toll Rising

  moon slips warily inside a red envelope refusing to come out owls cough up hoots praying over owlets the sun wears blinds anoles unable to warm fire ants stinging eating tough flesh trees halt, drop leaves eggs left, nest cold birds fall, sky red in protest of the dead   We continue to pray…

My new poem “gossip” now live on masticadoresIndia

Gossip sundry whispers flutter like silky snow bending, twisting around rapt ear perching amid folks ripe for evil Please go to MasticadoresIndia ( now called ChewersMasticadores ) to read the rest of this piece.  Follow and subscribe to MasticadoresIndia if you like great stories and poetry. I heard gossip explained this way to me a…

My New Poem “Death of Innocence” live on Spillwords press nyc

his mighty breath shakes the Carpathian conifersangels caress the Black Sea with salty blue tearsyards of peat moss release threads of red energyfire salamanders scream out in their volcanic rageyou will not put Ukrainians in your silencing caves To continue reading please visit Spillwords Press NYC and please consider liking if you enjoy the piece…

My new poem live on The Edge of Humanity “High price”

Arising from the loamy soil and red clay emits the realm of cotton and tobacco.  Their breaths are a land of drudgery where drops of scarlet seep from hands that pick the whites of her thorny eyes.  Growing in fields of lost magnolias and gardenias adrift, where scentless trees play jazz for fairies and whippoorwills. …

My poem haiti-the forgotten dying land now featured on edge of humanity

scant trees hold precious life in soildownpours run without mercyflushing minerals into low landscharcoal created from the sparse bushtiny fingers burn on hot boiling potof small green leaves collectedoverfished waters leave nets lying emptysilent goat bones weave like shadowsstomachs ache like a black tooth decaying blank stares of a slave child with a swollen bellychained…

Disappearing Slowly

Photography by Gabriel Matula – Unsplash – Poem by Joni Caggiano on Saturday, June 5, 2021 Shall I rise today and put on my face?  If so, which face shall I paint.  I suffer like a lamp whose light no longer shines or a piano whose keys are missing, yet still strains to coerce a…

My New Face

faces are skin for viewing, not for judginghiding one side of mine to forget the slaps it tookI ask us why is it so difficult for us to embrace our look if my face was right, my thin body wrongthe sea’s entire palette of blue surrounded mein my teenage years, something not many bothered to…