Five Poems by Joe Bisicchia

2 poems by Ashley Bach
April 20, 2018
LitStyle Book Review: Tenderling by Emily Corwin
April 21, 2018

 

At the Same Red Light

 

The world stops its orbit
sometimes for us to stop and see.
Even after countless yellows,
and months of Mondays,
maybe those in other cars as well
sometimes marvel at the wooden grain
of a particular telephone pole
next to the homeless lady
holding out a toughened, textured hand.
It is there for us to sometimes see
Like countless other unnoticed things.
And then we move on promptly
to somehow pass other countless things
unnoticed somewhere deep in our beings.

 

 

Regarding the Travails of Travel

 

Here I am, a stranger in a foreign land. Yet, like a wound that heals,
my heart of commonplace worry feels the sparrow will fly again,
even now as it is understandably missing, for the heavy rain approaching
shall soon silo this soon to be isolated world.

But this is a world of such undeniable wonder. Hope is like universal thunder.
And I see You, the drifter. You manage a smile. Even here heaven is a place
ever happening. Under same awning, we take cover together,
and admire the store’s window and all the bicycles within.

 

what happens

next

is now.

 

There

 

Every moment into the next,
creation’s wonderment goes step by step,
life anew, life always the same,
beginning to end, to the beginning again.

 

A definition of disposition:
not choosing the shape of your fin,
or the sea you’re in,
but how everyday you decide to swim.

So goes the journey to heaven.
May it never be too far a distance to go there
here.

 

 

Here to Horizon

 

My face to the morning mist,
again I misplace what I could see,
my little sailboat of dreams,
out there so close it had seemed,
but now somewhere adrift.

No matter how distant,

I shall stand here ashore to find it.
I shall face all that I have missed,
all that surely must exist
as sure as me, here.

I shall, as sure as time worth taking
and dreams worth making to set sail
this and everyday awaking,
no matter how much I may fail,
no matter how much forsaking,

I shall forever look out to sea
as if I owe it to myself to dream.

 

 

 

Joe Bisicchia writes of our shared dynamic. An Honorable Mention recipient for the Fernando Rielo XXXII World Prize for Mystical Poetry, his works have appeared in numerous publications. His website is www.widewide.world.

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