“The Crown” by Joni Caggiano ©️2025

The Crown Bougainvillea florets tremble likescarlet ribbons tied in bows on young flesh Archways of stone outstretchreposeful winds on muted statues with listless stares Foreboding leopard keeps vigila silent killer, her sentry will shield if a threat declares Pillars of light bring rays of respite yettears seal her withering heart within flouted ceiling Ferns rest…

MY POEM “Lonely employment” live on edge of humanity

you ride your bike, crying down the hard dirt roadyour morning spent killing fliestheir price, a penny a carcasshanding me my money through the soul of their drunken hollowyou wonder, would they spend a penny for meI buy hot balls in a brown paper bag with my pennies To continue reading please visit EDGE OF…

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…

compulsive

counting, countingdoing daily safety checksexhaustion visiting eyes of seven God ignoring pleas to go to heaven tiptoeing, tiptoeingever aware of sleeping beastglass floors cracking under toeswhile nervous fingers are picking nose

Live on Spillwords “Spotlight on Writers – Joni Caggiano”

I am honored to be interviewed on Spillwords NYC.  If you like my work and are curious about my life please visit the link above.   If you enjoyed learning more about what makes me tick, please show me some love by clicking on the little heart.  To see my author page on Spillwords NYC click…

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…

Three New Poems on I Write Her – The Short of It

Nature Changes  Hearts of love hang by spider silk, painting the rust-colored leaves,shedding old clothes as dying flowers bid goodbye to bees.Impatient is the fall wind, causing green to intermingle with the color brown.We are watching the movement of the last squirrels digging holes in the ground.Kisses fall from the sky from migrating birds as…