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Works by Joe Bisicchia

Sounds Like Home

In the heat of the soon to be night,
in a world of windows,
sun settles with a saxophone.

Published in Aji Magazine, 2017

Found You in a Haiku

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

Published by Rabid Oak, 2019

Maker of the Sun

Let me show my thankfulness for this in my eagerness to persist my walk with You
now and even into the darkness. See it in my stride.

Even though we shall walk through the valley of death, I walk with You by my side,

always in the light.

Published in Fourth & Sycamore, 2017

swan lake
Other People's Flowers
Hiding Below Hide
Anti-Heroin Chic
Brooklyn Flat
Triggerfish Critical Review
Living the Georgia-Florida Line
Triggerfish Critical Review
Subway
Other People's Flowers
Sun's Auld Lang Syne
Nthanda Review

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.

Published by FIVE:2:ONE, 2018

Catch Daddy!

Song of the Mime

Silent clown,
you let us laugh.
And to you, the music
we add.

For far more than words,
our beings know each other.

And every new day,
the sun
without its own sound,
will overpass.
But the birds sing.


Published by Dark Matter, 2015
We see each other.
Ball bounces.

Busy world
hard to hold,
hard to let go.

Me to him,
him to me,
again and again.

Again and again,
him to me,
me to him.

Hard to let go,
hard to hold
busy world.

Ball bounces.
We see each other.


Published in Forever Journal by Poetic Matrix Press, 2016

Monte Carlo

In the mirage,
in sun’s bending of street,
when the racing stripe

warps wrinkled
as clouds pass as do all images,
as all ephemeral messages,

as all invitations do to inspire us to
look through penetrable haze
on the way to the sun and beyond,

we shield our face,
see our way,
and race.
Published in Forever Journal by Poetic Matrix Press, 2016

Simon Says

There is likely hesitation,
but he takes the cross.
A voice can only say so much.
His goes hollow.
He learns to look not at the loss
but at the example
he will follow.
And in the end,
he gives it back
to Him.

Published by Time of Singing, 2018

the incredible shrinking man

Judging by the droplet, a rivulet
down my back in sweat,
not sure what’s more terrifying—
the sight of the mounting spider,

or the sound of its footstep.

Published in Qua Literature Magazine, 2016

History of the World

And so, the hanging fruit has always had a seed.
What did we do with it? What shall we?

Never quite silent, the tree, even in peace,
rustles as the breeze bends us.

We know all the green and allow it to envelop our sky,
and hypnotize.

In the dreams, in the veins of all the leaves,
sits the puzzle piece. Nothing new. Down to the roots.

Love is a word, an ongoing verb.
There is need, always was and always will be.

The hanging fruit has a seed.
Near the heart.

What can now start?


Published by Anatolios Magazine, 2019

Headlines

More than ink.
See
more than a one side sheet.
Who’s written as penned in?
We’re much more
than what we breathe out.
War chatters our teeth.
We’re far from each other.
But souls are in between.
Together, our lives shout.
See.
And read more than ink.
More than fonts
that electronically blink.



Published by Better than Starbucks, 2017

Run

I am speed.

I want
to run

as if all I could do
is make earth move,
and all of its breeze
be what I breathe
down the street
toward home.


Published in Forever Journal by Poetic Matrix Press, 2016

All Shook Up

Same sun
ends, soon begun.

That morning,
1957, Silvio
went without words
at the news—

Elvis Prezzli
non è italiano.

But somehow,
no problemo.

Both sang at sunset,
a turned up radio
somewhere
in Milano.

Published by The Path, A Literary Magazine, Summer, 2016

Technically Speaking

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.

Has me thinking of a chimpanzee on the way to the moon
pushing all kinds of buttons, pulling all kinds of levers,
knowing all kinds of wires and all kinds of connections.

Technically speaking,
that chimpanzee first needed to translate all kinds of jargon
and then turn it into all kinds of brilliant action.

To him, he had to treat it like some kind of poetry.

That could be me. But,
I have no idea what that poor chimpanzee had to go through.
Technically speaking, I’m a baboon.

Published by Rabid Oak, 2019

Of Regret

If only this.
If only that.
If only
no regret.

Our errors,
our mistakes,
dreams,
mount the cold fact.

Game never stays still.
Such is life.
It goes as it will.
And we react.

It goes.
And we make.
We overcome.
And we make.

Published in Forever Journal by Poetic Matrix Press, 2016

Unobstructed

Be with me
at Huffman Prairie
on the ground.
It’s where flying machines
are made.

Fashion in me reality
of all that can be.

And before
and after
let me sit.

And, as the sky runs,
let me savor it.

Published by Kitty Litter Press, 2017

"hope street" - pacificREVIEW

Five Poems - Five:2:One
"50-Foot Woman" - Dark Wood Magazine
"Rocks" - Literary Orphans
"Violin with No Strings Attached" - Paragon Press
"Hope is More than a Placebo" - The Poet's Haven
"ant and elephant" - Claw & Blossom
"See" - Writing Knights Press
"Name in Sidewalk" - The Black Lion Journal, TWD Magazine
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