Joe Bisicchia Poems

There is likely hesitation,
but he takes the cross.

A voice can only say so much.
...

Having mastered complexities of math, science, and alphabet,
all that education now comes down to this:
affixing one and one together late on Christmas Eve,
hooking up latest kids' gadgets with no sense of ease.
...

And what awaits to be seen,
faraway as sky,
close by as the backyard,
ever closer to the heart?
...

And my arteries run;
they race with the streets,
my depth chasing the lines underneath,
my arms chasing my dreams.
...

Rocks have personalities
I think
maybe.
Got to get to know them.
...

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,
...

We felt her voice lift joyous from that deathbed.
She wasn't a poet; but was. Her last poem: her final breath.
It left without a word, as if the most peaceful sound ever said.
And we wept.
...

face, face, face, face, face.
face, face, face, face, face, face, You.
face, face, face, face, face.
...

Wings are intricate things,
yet simple.

So without much thought,
...

Overcome the cage,
and open the gate.
Ego is a bird;
it should fly.
...