William Greco

William Greco Poems

stirred not at all
like a wilderness of dreams
or tremulous glimpses
of awakening
...

drinking champagne
in savage champaign
before I was born
after I died
...

in the dead of (winter) night
in the dead of winter (night)
mime was executed for stealing pancakes
...

they say that
traveling carnival
will visit our town soon
whether the weather
...

where the hell
do they come from?
and where do they go
after the work is finished?
...

mysterious figures
wander in the countryside
aimlessly in mud and dust
...

cold wars
and silvery spoons
make me solemn
in self-closing eyes
...

let's go on the hill
and let the dying sunbeams
drift away our sorrows
let's go to the river
...

gods and monsters
and dogs in front of
graveyard gates
don't think about the future
...

utterly bewildered
I stood by the nightfall
of stilly midsummer
withering away
...

from ruthless deeds
to place where
the devil is absent
rambling soul
...

the leather train
the house without doors
both inside of the brain
one is and one roars
...

dragged from grey waters
dragged from war's hungry mouth
there's a door on top of a birch tree
...

write yourself a raspberry omelette,
whispered wife of a shrilling dentist
but husband stood aghast in haste
...

every night I dream
about angel beings
with celestial sandy hair
and every morning
...

dreary evening falls on the block
where careworn gal lies on her couch
in front of a blinking screen she's bored
when shadow quickly flies outside
...

the end is not so close
but I'm still drowning
in all ponds of Mars
guilty and filthy
...

she always used to set the walls 'round her on fire
and cover them with barbwire
while he's killing ladybugs on the ceiling of his world
...

the girl didn't want to talk about time travel
and said goodbye to me soon and then left
and I stood still, thinking about
space continuum that repeats through history
...

in dogmatic stillness, since uncle died
he's been traversing the phantom dimensions
from endless skyscrapers to artic edges
through the hailstorms of indignation
...

William Greco Biography

I am what I am. Don't ask me why. I am a stork flying over the volcano. I am a gas chamber inside a little kid's heart. I am a smoke on a distant ship. I am a phantom dog on a catwalk. I am a newborn on a death bed. I am many things that doesn't matter. But I guess I'm really just an aspiring writer, bound passionately in the realms of surreal, delusional art of dreams.)

The Best Poem Of William Greco

Folie À Deux

stirred not at all
like a wilderness of dreams
or tremulous glimpses
of awakening
the world is
mighty but solemn

invoking traitors
into the ocean
of lucidity
bitterly trembling
we're motionless
rudderless
but not artless at least

and we sigh
and sigh
and sigh once more

William Greco Comments

William Greco Popularity

William Greco Popularity

Close
Error Success