Sunday’s Hay Field

  sadness is a raw wound wrapped in bandagesliving in the thought of a picnic without dancing antsa family carrying a basket with lost Sundays and sandwiches listening to the radio, pretending to dancebitter the old man who can no longer stand to eat corntoothless, he remembers the river swallowing a closing glance his son, […]

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My Gladiator

This piece is dedicated to and inspired by the fragrance writer, the poet who can find any scent you or your beloved enjoys.   In the days of the Roman Gladiators, their natural scents were collected and sold as expensive perfume for rich patrons.    in her white stola, she hummed by the lone gladiator gate,sixty […]

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Our Smells

tease me slowly, for now, awake I smell your nighttime sweatmingling with our lovemaking, aromas catching my body wethumidity plays a role in the dampness of our pearly pleasuresleepy eyes open, alive, we are now each other’s sated treasure

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We Dance For Silence

Like a snake sheds his skin so go we, those of us who bravely venture onFilled with heightened senses as vigilantly, we quietly roam till dawn. Exposed our emotions on our shoulders perched like the raven black,Hearing whispers, feeling stares, why we grow eyes high upon our back. Lost amongst the others, those who gather, but wonder […]

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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 […]

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My New Poem, “Memories Buried In a Box,” Now Live at MasticadoresUSA

I am honored to be published in MasticadoresUSA (Editora: Gabriela Marie Milton, Director: j re crivello) I am the seasoning in your food, infused with blood-tinged lovegrave diggers plow a hole into my left eye, now crossedblack memories are buried there, along with my visionlifeless in a woeful, cardboard box, are my wedding ringsmy father’s […]

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His Love is Far Reaching

pounding heartbeats, the torrid sun drying blue blood, which drips as silently as Damascus sighs, my blood rides on the Crimson-winged Finch in the Holy Lands, we sit in the shade of the immense fig tree, meeting me here too long ago, a human turning inside out, each time you touch my lines where a […]

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I am Your Canvas

Green-eyed canvasGerminates from wild sparksLit by tributaries you draw on me Red the lily of the IncasYou flow through me like theAmazon from the Andes mountains Orange clusters of lifeSurrounding me as pleasuresArouse flesh with hot touches You are the center ofMy tree where life is fed byThose tributaries you draw on me

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The Lonely Widower

This poem is dedicated to all the people that are alone that I know, love and pray for on WordPress and the world.  This is a difficult time for everyone but those who don’t have family or friends that visit are lonely – take a chance guys and gals!  I dedicate this poem to John […]

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