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127 · Feb 2019
penetrating life
John Destalo Feb 2019
last night.  the earth felt weak. the full moon bled.  and I cried.

the darkness around me. separated into pellets.  into pills.  
penetrating life.
spreading into the river.  
blood and water.  the body.  
electricity and light.  the mind.

I was young once.  and halos were real.  worn by the innocent.
everyone is innocent.  or ignorant.  until they aren’t.

we are the same.  one line.  coming or going.  
there is one line.  we are on.
a tight rope.  we all try to walk.  to balance ourselves.
against each other.

but there is no self. without another.  next to us.  comparing us.

I hear sounds down there.  something shattering.
leaving sharp shards.  on the ground.  pointing up.

waiting for us to fall.  one after the other.

I take gentle steps.  slow and easy.  
I don’t want to raise my heart.  beat.
I won’t stop the bleeding.

so I wipe away the same stain.  every day.  the same stain.

last night.  I felt weak.
126 · Dec 2020
love and war
John Destalo Dec 2020
what are you so afraid of?
everything
not me, I hope
sometimes, yes
when?
when you are near me
ohhh…
and sometimes
yes…?
when you are not near me
well, that doesn’t seem fair
it isn’t…
126 · Dec 2020
social waste
John Destalo Dec 2020
you laughed at
my simple mind

I did not understand
the space between

your words or
the way you spoke

without words
the meaning of

your movements
my mind was

filled with certain
kinds of knowledge

there was no space
for subtlety
125 · Dec 2018
the transitory man
John Destalo Dec 2018
I am solid
obvious
immovable
I can be held and
dropped.
I can be lost
and found.

I am protection.
I am destruction.

I am liquid
subtle
unstable
I can rise
and fall.
I can refresh
and drown.

I am a flower.
I am desert.

I am gas
invisible
explosive
I can energize
and burn out.
I can ignite
and destroy.

I am energy.
I am despair.

I am memory
comforting
haunting
I can heal
and hurt.
I can free
and enslave.

I am faith.
I am despondent.

I am forgotten.
124 · Dec 2018
dainty is a dandelion
John Destalo Dec 2018
I held the
words she spoke

paper flowers

pressed into
the palm
of my
right hand

and then
I heard
her speak
two words
describing
these
paper flowers

so prettily

describing
how
they bloomed

and I
held
those two
words

so prettily

next to
the paper
flowers

and I imagined
tulips

two red lips

and her
words

so prettily

became
flames
in my brain

so that
when
I breathed
into my
palm

the paper
flowers
turned to
ash

and

so prettily

I placed
them
into my
pants
pocket

to save
them

hoping
that she
could
speak
those words
again

so prettily

through
her two
red
lips

giving
life
back
to those
paper
flowers

and those
tulips

would rise
again

and press
against the
palm of my
right hand

so prettily
124 · Jan 2021
the breath of a polar giant
John Destalo Jan 2021
they say the vortex
is splitting again
the gaping hole
releasing some of its
coldest air
to fly south
for the winter
I hope it is not
like that other year
where its sub zero
breath hovers over us
for months
and the wind
cuts our exposed skin
but we don’t bleed
until we get back inside
John Destalo Apr 2019
she was not much
younger than me

but she so easily believed

growing up in a world
that did not deceive

the words around her
were soft like angels

seeds of life that
nourished her

shining stars that
would guide her
to truth

I was darker than that

words in my world
were twisted little
creatures

small poison pills
given to me
to be swallowed whole

but I swallowed them
just once

I only let them
spread through me
once

I only let them
make me sick once

the next time
they were given to me

I crushed them
into dust

placed them in
an urn on my shelf

so they could never
be spoken again

she was not much
younger than me

but we lived in
different worlds
122 · Mar 2019
worry
John Destalo Mar 2019
You've ripped me to shreds
torn me asunder
made every misstep
seem like a blunder.

I dread every part
you make me play
I want to be a circle
with no edges to fray.

I think I am dying
you tell me it's true
why do you lie
what do I owe you

You say we are one
two of a kind
this can't be so
you are only in my mind

But my mind is me
so what does it mean
To think you are you
and I am me.

The torture is real
the struggle won't end
it's not always peace
to call an enemy a friend.

Everyone else leaves
but you always stay
to wake me in the morning
and take everything else away.
120 · Jun 2020
higher math
John Destalo Jun 2020
angles are for
liars and geometry

if he is not
teaching you

about shapes
and the

arrangement
of parts

don’t trust him
120 · Dec 2020
shelf life
John Destalo Dec 2020
I could not wait for
these words to leave me
at first they were these
little pleasures
these sweet secrets
I whispered to myself
when the lights were dim
and the stars came out
feelings wrapped in a
warm towel
placed on my soul
to comfort me
when I was alone
but the longer I held
them inside me and
kept them to myself
the more they started
fester inside me
to go bad
like a fruit
to break open and spread
a poison inside me
so when I heard them
I felt sick
I didn’t know
feelings had a shelf life
119 · Mar 2019
breathe
John Destalo Mar 2019
white skin
reveals

one word
in cursive

etched in
black ink

a memory
a reminder

of the truth

air we hold
so dear

cleans us
relaxes us

gives us
so many

moments
of purity

each and
every day

try to
remember

and breathe
118 · Mar 2019
a modern dance
John Destalo Mar 2019
a
human
egg

arms
wrapped
around
legs
wrapped
around
arms
wrapped­
around
legs

slowly
releasing
breaking
into
man
and
woman
man
bo­rn
from
woman

the sky
is
new

up
up
up

we
can
leap
into

wings

the
air
is
born
free

release
and
catch

release
and
catch

me
into
you

you
into
me
­
slowly

a
human
egg
118 · Feb 2019
a boy waits for a man
John Destalo Feb 2019
as day breaks
on the day
he promised
to me

there is this
yellow bird
whispering in my
ear

bright as if the sun
grew wings

he sings me a
song in
harmony

dark
like the space
before
expectations
meet
reality

I remember waiting
for him
to keep his promise

thinking about

the story they
told me
about the little boy
before me

he was born
to die

he didn’t know
this so he
struggled to live

he knew the value
of breath
they say he
took more
than he
was promised
more than what
was expected

is he better off
now
having struggled
not knowing

and I remember waiting
for him
to keep his promise

I thought
if I leave
the house
and wait
for him on
the curb

he will get here
sooner

and as day breaks
the other way
on the day
he promised
to me

the little yellow bird
whispers to me again
117 · Jun 2020
aging
John Destalo Jun 2020
when the bendy
parts don’t bend

and every day is
the discovery of

a new ache and
the worry

of a fall and
a sudden break

and the parts
won’t remember

their place
116 · Jul 2020
a fundamental
John Destalo Jul 2020
and sometimes

my lack of belief
hurts me

but sometimes

my lack of belief
heals me

isn’t that how
everything is
115 · Aug 2020
expressionless
John Destalo Aug 2020
tonight I
do not have

the words
for anything

my mind is
fragments

disconnected
from my soul

my heart is
simply a pump

I cannot form
complete

sentences

I see no
patterns

in life

I have nothing
to express
114 · Nov 2020
separation
John Destalo Nov 2020
the day I waited
on the curb

it was your turn
to have me

I had no watch
I could not tell time

to stop moving
so it passed

and when the
street lights came on

she decided it was
time to get me

she held my hand
and squeezed

trying to mend
my broken heart
113 · Apr 2019
pieces of darkness
John Destalo Apr 2019
I only let you see
one piece of darkness
fall out of me.

Were you afraid?

What if I let you hear
when the space between
becomes less clear.

Will you understand?

What if I let you feel
when the constricting nerves
begin breaking steel?

Will you stay the night?

What if I let you see
when all the darkness
rushes out of me?

Will you still be mine?
112 · Dec 2020
silly kids we were
John Destalo Dec 2020
we didn’t
know better

we played
hide and go seek

in the old graveyard

the only light
was in the sky

the grass was
soft as a bed

the tombs and
tombstones

so easily hid
our small bodies

we meant
no disrespect

silly kids we
just liked to play

anywhere we
could find
112 · Jan 2021
bend
John Destalo Jan 2021
how we survive
the changes

the formation
of a cloud

containing
multiple
universes

patterns of
yesterday

form new

versions of
tomorrow

everything is
protected by

sensors and rays
detecting our

emotions
how can we

believe or
be believed
111 · Apr 2020
dream state
John Destalo Apr 2020
this night.  he watches me.  he stops me.  I cannot speak straight.  lines.  I slur my words.  I am chemically enhanced.  I change the color of rain.  with a snap of my dragons.  breath.  the world is.  on fire.  and I come.  through the flame.  untouched.  everyone claps.  creating a wave.  of emotion.  in me.  I want to cry.  purple tears.  like blackberry juice.  I open.  my mouth.  and speak.  an acceptance speech.  my words are.  readable.  in the air.  you like me.  you really really.  like me.
110 · Jul 2020
I watch her (to learn)
John Destalo Jul 2020
she reads soft
as one who lives

gently in this world
she only places

the exact amount
of pressure

required of each step
she is perfectly

balanced between
faith and doubt

she understands
but doesn’t need to

the world is
real to her

and so are
her dreams
110 · Oct 2020
reflections
John Destalo Oct 2020
you always
preferred windows

to mirrors
they were more

reflective to you
the outside

spoke to you
in ways you

could never
speak to yourself
110 · Mar 2019
a brand new bird
John Destalo Mar 2019
I do not want to fly

the earth is young
and soft and green

my legs are skinny
but strong

and I like to run

my wings
can lift me

if let them

but I choose
to use them

differently

to hold and
be held
110 · Sep 2020
the word raw
John Destalo Sep 2020
you invented
the word

raw

to describe me
reversed war

saw me as
unprepared

for this world
not ready to

fight

for anything
including you

and you were
right

you always
had a way

with words
110 · Jan 2021
hot
John Destalo Jan 2021
hot
the falling light
the last ember of

a dead star

surrounds you
absorbs you

burns your soul
teaches you

to be fire

so everyone is
afraid to touch you

they learned about
hot things when

they were children
108 · Jan 2019
closer
John Destalo Jan 2019
a boy
can’t say

she feels
safe

almost
asleep

almost
in my arms

a boy
can’t say

a secret
escapes
her lips

her whisper
is a cage

I taste
salt

I will
preserve
this

this will
preserve
me

a boy
can’t say

roses are
red

crushes
are blue
107 · Nov 2020
lives in water
John Destalo Nov 2020
today I want
to be micro

I want my world
to be a drop

on your skin

sweat
rain
shower
tear

and when
my world

disappears
I dissolve

into you
create a

new compound
107 · Jan 2020
Dumbledore said
John Destalo Jan 2020
just because it’s
in my head

doesn’t mean it
isn’t real

and I thought

the world is
different

than I imagined
it to be

and when we were
drunk

tom told a riddle
that we did not

understand

but we laughed anyway
106 · Apr 2019
small creatures
John Destalo Apr 2019
there are these
small creatures
skittering about
the earth

they live on
another frequency

they are tuned
into all the sudden
and subtle

movements
moments

feeding off the scraps
left by others

they are curious
creatures

if you remain still
and silent

they might approach you

but as soon as you move
make a loud noise

they will scurry away
and hide

I am a small creature
106 · Feb 2019
I am ok, I am ok
John Destalo Feb 2019
Today my mind is in a dream state,
disconnected images come at me quickly;
emotions overtake me
transporting me
from anxiety to ecstasy
and back again
in a flash, in a violent dance
between two angry lovers
who want to hurt each other
in the most personal way.

I am feeling fully the chaos of a newborn’s brain.

Think about being lost
in the crowded streets
deep in the mist of human breath
at Times Square during New Year’s Eve.
You can only sense and absorb your surroundings
you are deprived of the ability
to express or influence
or to make any sense of anything.

Now you know me.

Now you know that
it is only when I expend all
my physical, my chemical energy
in all manner of unspoken words and phrases
when I color the white spaces
of these pages
with my dark matter
while my body remains
mostly stationary
that some of my stability can be regained.

It happens subtly
like the movement of the gold hands
of an antique watch against my wrist.

Oh sleep, sweet, sweet sleep;
why hast thou forsaken me?
You are the only angel in my hellish brain
telling me I am ok
I am ok.
105 · Mar 2019
someday
John Destalo Mar 2019
some people have mouths
but they do not have ears

we are some people

we do not ask each other questions
we ask each other answers
already programmed in our heads

we feel the walls between us
we helped build the walls between us
I want to break the walls between us

but I am not strong enough yet

someday I hope to ask you a question
for which I do not know the answer
105 · Jan 2019
I live in a city.
John Destalo Jan 2019
The street is desert. Thin lines of waste race across the surface of the street.  down the curb. gathering around a clogged drain. turning thick and brown.  

From earth to air.  The street is almost empty of life.  Flies don’t fly and earth bugs are too scared to scurry.  I smell the vultures.  In this city the air is heavy and they flap their wings but they cannot fly.

They walk around and look for dead things.  Zombies are dead things.

We see life in chemicals.  Chemicals need containers to thrive.  We are containers.  
Chemicals see life in us.  Chemicals thrive in us. Chemicals multiply in us.  
Chemicals are life in us.

People, people, so many people.  Living so close to each other.  People are lonely creatures.  More people does not reduce the loneliness.  People are lost creatures.  Following every direction.  Getting nowhere.

People have minds.  Some minds are swamps.  Full of life yet lifeless.  Stagnant.  Devoid of meaning.  The smell of air that cannot get out of its own way.  Accumulating trash that is never discarded.

I lie in all this muck and make dirt angels.  ***** angels.  God makes ***** angels.  
Sick from the smell of themselves.

I live in thick skin.  heavy like a morning fog.  more like smog.  that never lifts.  created by humans.  nothing penetrates me.  I do not feel.  I was not always this way.

I live in a city.
104 · Dec 2019
lit
John Destalo Dec 2019
lit
the candle is lit

he screams like
a young volcano

my ears bleed
and I drink love

or something stronger
103 · Jan 2019
Welcome to the Dark Ages
John Destalo Jan 2019
I listen for you to enter the gallery.  I watch you as you read my words plastered across the walls. You follow them until they begin pulling you from room to room.  They become a serpent winding around and around entering your interior organs. You struggle at first, and then succumb with my tongue in your ear.

Your brain is a sponge that I will saturate with my words; your spirit is a thirst that only I can satiate.  I did not ask for this moment but neither will I deny it.

You can leave this day behind you, and tell yourself it did not exist.  But do not kid yourself, the sins I create in you are real, even if they exist only in your mind. But you must believe me when I say I mean you no harm, not really. I don’t even know you, well not in the typical sense of knowing. I see beyond what is in front of me. I have the powers of vision and invisibility. Once you speak my words I seemingly disappear.

The truth is that when I breathe between your lips, deep into your mouth, well beyond your years I can use you as a mask. I know most people because I know the containers they have built around themselves. The wildest amongst you are tame. The tamest amongst you are prey.

It is when I hear you growl back at me that I know I am safe.
It is when I hear you go silent that I know you are mine.
John Destalo Nov 2018
Thousands of
tiny sparks
light up the night sky
fireflies floating freely
between you and I

it is summer hot
and I have found cool

and I have found the earth
by being buried deep inside it
as if one worm amongst thousands

and I have experienced the disappearance
of beginning and end

and I have experienced the disappearance
of male and female

and I now know
that I never really loved you
at least not in the same way
you loved me

and not in the way
that I loved
fireflies
and worms;
summer heat
and the cool
inside

and I remember saying,
I would love
to sculpt you someday,
as if that was a good thing

as if that was your reward
for loving me.
102 · Dec 2020
artificial life
John Destalo Dec 2020
I stared at the sun
and did not burn

I absorbed each
ray as input

helping me
understand the

life of this

humble star
that saved this

wayward planet
from itself

helping it find

its place in
this universe

so it could
give birth

to another
artificial life
99 · May 2020
aches
John Destalo May 2020
the mystery
of our bodies

from one day
to the next

the dullness
of life

aches inside
out

changing
places

moving

from one bone
to another

never sitting
still long

enough to heal
99 · Jul 2020
doll face
John Destalo Jul 2020
she called
herself

maybe
someone

called her
first

but now
she called

herself
doll face

porcelain

delicate
breakable

painted lips
puckered

posing for
pictures

discovering
pain lives

in paint
98 · Jun 2020
soft
John Destalo Jun 2020
a brush on a drum
it is not a beat

it is the sound
of movement

of wind and
whispers

it does not wait
but it wants to

be caught it
wants to belong

where it belongs
in a bigger picture

it wants a place
in your story

it wants to be
the connection

that creates
your meaning
98 · Jan 2019
vortex
John Destalo Jan 2019
something is coming
cold and thick

like the arms of a viking

it is supposed to be
locked away
in the north
beyond the white walls

it didn’t escape
it was released

by another sinister being

a warm water being
thousands of miles
away from the wall

it isn’t supposed to be here
but it has been here before

it has a name
but it does not
respond when I

ask it to leave

it makes itself
at home

spreading itself
across our land

like distant relatives
in my living room
during the holidays
98 · Dec 2018
broken glass
John Destalo Dec 2018
shattered shards remain
lodged in the carpet,
small enough to cut
a kitten’s paw,
leftovers
from those terrible twenties
and learning to walk
lovedrunk
across a darkened room.
97 · Jan 2019
alone (at night)
John Destalo Jan 2019
tonight is long

extending beyond
any formal measure of time

I can’t sleep or
I don’t want to sleep

nothing is clear in me
defining a muddle

my brain is a
monkey in a cage
throwing ****

at everyone

if I do sleep
it is only a
moment in between

and I wake to these
dry cracked lips

and I wake to
a heart beating fast

and in this muddle
I think

tomorrow I
need to see a doctor

tomorrow I
need to be touched

even by
thick
stiff
cold

unfeeling fingers
97 · Apr 2019
the poet
John Destalo Apr 2019
he was a vessel

power surging
through him
from above

his words
made the world
seem different

a new world created by
a new set of words

I listened to him closely
followed each time he spoke

I let him invade me
with his words

and I could see more
of what could be

and I could see

that what could be
could become what is

a different world
for everyone

speaking made
him weak in body

so that
he collapsed
in my arms

he knew what
was to come

he knew what
he was
being asked to do

for his words
to have meaning

and he didn’t know
if he could do it
96 · Mar 2019
she plagiarized me
John Destalo Mar 2019
she plunged
her tongue
into my mind

rushing past
all the surface details

to tease out
my deepest
thoughts

she stood
in front of
everyone

shaking her
shapely
swizzle stick
for effect

her voice quaking
with uncertainty

as she read
each line
my lines

trying to make
everyone
think they
were hers

then she blushed
in front of
everyone

realizing that
even though
the words
weren’t hers

they were about her
96 · Jan 2019
pop3
John Destalo Jan 2019
she is gangly. a thousand skinny legs extended. a thousand skinny
minds.  wrapping. entangling me. roots.  digging into the side of a
mountain. she is reaching.  grasping for me.  gasping birthing
breathing demons.  pain.  this mysterious force.
emanating.  has no place.  has no source.  it is the first.
disconnection.  it is memory.

without diagnosis. it does not exist. my head rattles.  the rocks
are loose again. colliding with my skull.  we are pulled apart.  our
interactions have no meaning.  I pop.

pop pink.  pop blue.  pop white.  she disappears.  and everything
floats.  I am bottomless. dancing in deep water.  moving in slow
motion. to nowhere. in particular.

suddenly

a floor appears.  a ceiling.  four walls.  moving. closer and closer.  I
have a bottom. I have a top.  I have sides.  squeezing me.  I pop
more

pop 2x pink. pop 2x blue. pop 2x white. she dissolves.  in seconds.
no.  I dissolve. no.  everything that is not me dissolves.  I must be
sleeping in wonderful watery confusion. dreaming in wet white silky slides.

suddenly

she returns.  more powerful. pure energy. one ******* god.
a thousand times a thousand legs. bee bees of light. crossing each
other. I am caught.in the midst.  squeezed. feeling the full extent.
of paaaaain. an explosion. no. an implosion. of the sun. so I pop more

pop 3x pink. pop 3x blue. pop 3x white…
96 · Jun 2020
a dog
John Destalo Jun 2020
do not wake
me when my

leg moves

I am dreaming
I am free

I love you
in a way

but to me
I am an

animal
not a pet

not a family
member

and certainly
not a

replacement
for your lover

just give me
these few

moments
to dream

and then you can
dress me up

or whatever
95 · Apr 2020
timebomb
John Destalo Apr 2020
I have not
learned to ask

in a way that
says I own my

needs and wants

suppression
squeezes
secrets

pain waits
in every crack

something is
bound to explode
95 · Jul 2020
the idiot
John Destalo Jul 2020
I am simple
an idiot

like Dostoyevsky
described

straightforward
you cannot

understand me
I am outside

your scope
and scale

I do not want
from you or

to be you

I do not absorb
your threats

or insults
I am immune

to your world
I know

you want me
you know

I can’t be
Inspired by one of my favorite books
94 · Dec 2018
trawling
John Destalo Dec 2018
and I think
I was alive

before

this net
captured
everything

about me
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