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John Destalo Jan 2020
letters are limited

but words and meaning
are limitless

and truth is timeless
and difficult to reach
John Destalo Aug 2020
you are a
beautiful bird
so colorful
and delicate
living a life of
sudden movements
chasing a breeze

I have no net
I have no cage

so I hold out
my hands

in the gentlest way

and hope
you land

in them
to rest

before you
have to leave
John Destalo Jul 2020
on the first day
we breathe
fresh air

our minds
come to life

we sense the
movement of
small things

inside and out
the connecting

of two neurons
the twitch of

an ant’s leg
before it moves

it is like the
beginning of

love when

we drop our
heavy weights

and hold hands
John Destalo Aug 2020
she prays to
the fresh flowers

in the field
of dreams

asking them
for beauty

she wants to
grow into

something
desired
and admired

she wants to
be inhaled

and held tight
by someone

desperate for her love

feeling luxurious
like the

fresh flowers
in the field

of dreams
John Destalo Sep 2020
I sit on a rock
and speak

not a speech
a conversation

with the wind
speaking through

the trees

she tells a joke
and I laugh

feeling

the warmth of
her touch on

my cheeks
we have been

friends for
as long as I

can remember
John Destalo Dec 2018
I think she is brilliant
I want to be one of her words
just one of her magic words
that casts a spell over all these people

I will start as a mere disturbance in her
a feeling that something important just happened
a desire that she cannot yet name

I will spend so much time in her cavernous mind
wandering through all her crevices
falling off the cliffs into deep water

god she is so deep
how am I able to breathe
there is so much going on in here

all this energy
explosions of thought
everything moves
so quickly
that nothing should
connect

but somehow it
all does

and when she finally
turns me into
form

real enough so
she can grasp me
begin to understand me
and she expels me
from her

as one short word
of one short poem

because I was inside her
people will think
I am brilliant
John Destalo Mar 2020
she is small
to the world

a baby’s breath she

creates words
that twist and turn

and burrow deep
and make me think she

takes my breath
with sudden

sounds and
screams she

makes me jump
and want to dance

in strange ways she
makes me want to be
John Destalo Jun 2020
if you take
all that I feel

tonight

and wrap it into
a ball of blue yarn

you could crochet
your own ocean

and drown in me
John Destalo Jul 2020
I break myself
in half

to find the pit
the *******

that holds the
soft parts

together I want
to remove it

I want to destroy it

I don’t want
to be whole

I want to be
a juicy mess

that drips
off chins

and stains
everything
John Destalo Feb 2020
the smart girl laughs

only when it matters
only when it means

something

then I know I am funny
she gets it

but still I never get her

what does a guy
have to do
John Destalo Sep 2020
I am a bug
caught in

a spider web
of beauty

I know where
it exists

I know why
it exists

I know
my future

if I go there

I land there
anyway

I give in to
my capture

knowing
resistance

is futile
John Destalo Jun 2020
shadows are
happy when

we dance
they are

no longer
foreboding

specters of
what follows us

but dreams of
what we can be

when we let
ourselves dance
John Destalo Apr 2019
on one house
on one street

on that house
on this street

they wait

biding their time
watching me
as I walk by

slowly

everyday I walk
by slowly

I don’t want
to startle them

I don’t want
to alarm them

I don’t want
to be the one

who awakens them

they already
live in my dreams
John Destalo Dec 2019
yesterday was another day.  or maybe the same day.  because it wasn’t really different. than today.  does time stop for some of us?

sharp pens make deep holes.  ink flows.  through some of us.  we see things.  and we need.  to turn vision.  into words.  to share.

or to exorcise.  our souls.  we are selfish.  all of us.  at some level.  survival demands it.

2. shed your skin.  show your sins.  show your naked soul.  to someone.  anyone.

I cried today.  watching a scene.  from an old movie.  I have seen it many times.  it always makes me cry.  I watch it anyway.

she tries to hold in everything.  the little girl in the movie.  she loves her damaged daddy. so much.  then he dies.  

and she doesn’t cry.  until she does.  then I cry.  always.

3. maybe it is for.  my damaged daddy.  I cry.  or maybe it is for myself.  having to hold it in.  

if a boy cries in the forest.  or in the street.  or in his room.  and no one hears it…

yesterday was another day. or maybe the same day.  for some of us.
John Destalo May 2020
he was always
seated before

the bell rang

he always sat up
straight

he always folded
his hands

he always raised
his hand

before he spoke

he asked his
too many questions

in all the gentle ways

genuinely wanting
to know more

than you could
ever tell him
John Destalo Mar 2019
When you forgot my name
last night,
it reminded me of the impermanence
of existing,
and the perilous ******* of words,
spoken or unspoken.

Words appear and disappear
in an instant
some remain long enough
to create bonds or barriers
but always disappear.

Three of these little words can
create waves that in one
moment caress the toes and then
collapse the lungs of the most
vulnerable places deep, deep inside
making a simple breath
painful.

I saw my name last night
hanging in the air
amongst all the previous words
of the night
and as I reached to bring it back
it was carried away by a gentle
breeze out the open window to the
darkened sky.

This gave me the freedom to
crawl back into the shadows and
observe.

I could see all the words
that night
as they hung in the air
each one
trying to remain,
jockeying for position,
but always being replaced,
some words hanging longer than others.

Then I found myself floating amongst
those words,
trying to find one I could grab onto,
to make mine.

I languished in the air
as each new word appeared,
I was bathed in the warmth of their breath,
massaged by the whirlpool
of interaction,
each word melting into the others
until they were without beginning or end
until I was without beginning or end,
nudged by a gentle breeze
toward the open window
to a darkened sky.
John Destalo May 2020
I feel gentle in the dark
the overhead light fades

my heart race is over

figments swing dance
shape shifting

like a dream

I feel gentle in the dark
everything is quiet

even the predators

don’t make a sound
as they pounce
John Destalo Sep 2020
ghost

she said
to me

I am a
magical

creature

I can
disappear

if I want to

I know
I can

because
I was

invisible
for most

of my
teenage

years
John Destalo Mar 2019
you were
little not small

you knew more
than you
should have

you were
filled with
feelings

like me
you knew
something
was missing

death entered
early

taking from us
too much
too soon

the gaps were
too large
for us to leap

so we fell
into each other

and now
almost a
grown up

when I
think

for more than
a moment

and I feel too much
I think of you

you were the
first soft thing

I ever knew
John Destalo Sep 2020
I vaguely remember
this little girl

when I was a little boy
I think she was my

first friend

I don’t remember
what she looked like

I don’t remember
what I looked like

I remember her name
I remember the sadness
we felt

when she moved away

I remember the whispers
in the next room

when her dad died

in a garage
the gas running

funny the things we
remember and the
things we don’t

funny or sad
John Destalo Oct 2020
she is an
artform

a movement
a new way

of thinking
and acting

one lifetime
is not enough

to discover
her patterns

I will pass
my observations

to the next
generation

and hope they
create a new

science or
religion from

her way of life
so we can all

learn how to live
John Destalo Feb 2020
wake me when
I’m gone

what is gone?
have I disappeared?

or am I lingering
in your heavy breath?

I am living in your
sudden memories?

do I mysteriously
appear in a dream?

am I still your fantasy?

what is gone?
John Destalo May 2020
it is spring
and green

is here
it dominates

the atmosphere

feeling itself
the majestic

color

it does not
conceive of time

it thinks it is

the first
the last
the always

but we know
better so we

enjoy it while
we can
John Destalo Dec 2018
I find myself half past.
Painting images of you with red wine.

I wander through the garden again.
Weeding out memories of you.
Rubbing poison on my lips.

I thought the shape of your face was one more piece
of the unfinished puzzle.

I thought the color of your eyes was the color of my heart, pale
and fading blue.

I thought about you yesterday.
At least it wasn’t all day.

There was that moment
when a bee stung me.  Then flew away to die.
John Destalo Apr 2020
what happened in

the smoke-filled room
at the edge of town

ravens sit on old wires
and wait

sparks flicker beneath them
but they don’t move

tires squeal and dirt flies
small rocks hit

metal and glass

enough to be heard
and felt

but not enough to break

when the dust settles
it is quiet

the birds eventually leave
and the lights come on

automatically
John Destalo Dec 2018
I countdown time with

the astronauts,

in seconds

not in years.

We’ve visited

eternity

and returned

with stories

of foreign creatures

and unseen colors

and blackest

nights.

I haVen’t given you

much thought lately.

You’ve been more than

a day away from

my veins.

We’re attached to our machines,

the astronauts and I.

They won’t let us

float in space

anymore.
John Destalo Jul 2020
I can relate

escaping to
your hole

we can never
dig deep

enough

we can never
create enough

holes

to feel safe
can we
John Destalo Mar 2020
I was young and jumped
with both feet

into new ideas

into forms
I didn’t understand

someone wanted me
someone promised me

something big

and I don’t know
that I really believed them

but I was young and
while not dumb

I thought
why the hell not

anything is better
than this
John Destalo Nov 2018
it is late at night
on this, the coldest night

I think about the stray cats
abandoned when their
people moved away

in my head
I hear them cry
into the thick dark
molasses sky

their tiny breaths
frozen smoke

sometimes they
talk to me

they extend
their words
perfectly
enunciating
emotional
pain

tiger
tiger
left
behi­nd

tonight I want to
write something happy

I want to feel like
like those happy people

who breathe
as if they
have no bones

they have more room
inside of them to feel

they could live through
this cold dark night
without crying
John Destalo Mar 2020
we had this conversation.  before.  you and I.  well not this exact conversation.  but something similar. when you ask me a question.  and I don’t really answer you.

I am not being rude.  or obstinate.  I really don’t have an answer.  so this time.  I will try.  to answer it.

yes.  sometimes.  I am happy.  

if I don’t think about it.  if I don’t notice it.
John Destalo Jan 2019
I can see in the dark
I can see without light

an old gray shadow
shaped like me
follows me
as I walk
through the night

he dances around me
teasing me like a
cool breeze against my skin

he whispers in my ears
almost singing to me

something about a
black cat and a crossed path

I was a boy once
with a future

but the shadow was
born before me

given to me as
my birthright

so there was always this great
distance in me

a vacancy

I stop walking for a moment
look up into an empty sky

and I think the other side
of the earth moon is vacant

and I think
I could live there

I still have that dream where

one morning I will wake
the shadow will have died
sometime during the night

there will be a sun in the sky
and I will think a happy thought
John Destalo May 2020
love is
an angel

the devil
was an

angel

love can
fall hard

we must
learn to

forgive

it is a gift
we can give

if we choose
expecting

nothing in
return

I know
it is hard

but it is
softer

than the
fall

especially
when we

hold onto
everything
John Destalo Aug 2020
a closed mind
a cell
a place with
stale air
and statues
rigid
frigid
nothing enters
nothing escapes
nothing is alive
nothing can die

that must be so
hard and painful

to never breathe
John Destalo Feb 2020
the possession of time

my time
is dwindling

but I still find
myself giving

more of it to you

you have mastered
the waves in the air

creating a magic spell

putting me in
a trance

I am swallowing
all the
sounds you emit

and they are snaking
through my soul

spreading you
through me

until my time is you
John Destalo Sep 2020
I lifted you from
rough waters

held you
like a swan

in an elegant
embrace

the gentle breeze
comforted

our broken souls
until we could

quiet down
our insides

and begin to mend
John Destalo Apr 2019
time is a vise
and each second
a squeeze

doesn’t everyone
eventually break?

don’t we have to?

she looked for
bright spots so

there must be
some darkness in
what she sees

right?

the future she saw
with him
was everything she
wanted

but not everything she needed

and each night
she fell asleep inside
his empty chest
John Destalo Jul 2020
a chain of days
without change

air becomes
an enemy

of lungs

we cannot
sweat

everything is
already

water and wet
nothing evaporates

everything is
heavy

movement is
slight

by necessity
The heat and humidity have arrived and I don't think they want to leave.
John Destalo Oct 2020
I have this mind

it is too heavy
to float

I sink in thought
and drown in

theories or dreams

weaving equations
or explanations

depending if I
fancy numbers

or words

sometimes my mind
is so heavy

I can’t get out
of bed for days
John Destalo Aug 2020
he swims
in chaos

he breathes
in confusion

his mind is
disorganized

his mouth
is rabid

spreading
his dis-ease

throughout these
dis-united

states
John Destalo Feb 2020
I

using his words
as clubs

trying to beat
down his shadows

that keep popping up

he has so many
ghosts

even the
ghostbusters
can’t save him

II

he wants you
to call him

fearless leader
but he does not know

you cannot
lead from the rear

as an a**

III

who needs
“fixers”

people who
make a lot
of “mistakes”

and don’t
want to admit it

IV

he is mean

and in the end
he will face

his biggest fear

that history
will tell him

he didn’t
mean a thing
John Destalo Jun 2020
past tense

muscle has
memory

it remembers
you

all over

the heat from
the moments

that meant
more

the anticipation
of forever

and I wonder

does rain
feel pain

when it ends
John Destalo Dec 2018
a rebel inside

she has
an independent voice
she expresses with ink
coloring her skin
  her arms
  her chest
with the way
she sees the world

she allows herself
to become
a canvas
a timeline
a map
a model

she starts her day
serving others

a ****** morning
two people
complaining
about everything
meaning nothing

she does her best
to explain
everything and
nothing to them

in the most
polite way
possible

they are not here
anymore

she wishes
she could let
them leave

she tugs on
her shirt
the sleeves
the collar
the silver buttons

hoping to hide her colors
hoping she
cannot be read

by the others
she must serve today
the hardest job
John Destalo Dec 2018
I knew my dreams were
dark
even when I believed

rage
is
a
disappearance
of
reason

I
cannot
stop

until
he
leaves
me

and afterwards
I
only
remember
feeling
cold

like there
was space
exposed

a window
cracked

a door
ajar
John Destalo Jan 2021
I do remember her hands
they were strong
and busy
she had long thin fingers
and pointy nails
she was always filing
her handwriting was
beautiful and
her doodles
were quite good
she made delicious meals
with them and
sewed and crocheted
frequently and quite well
even though she worked
in factories they were
not rough
I guess she took care
of them
I do remember her
nervous habits
smoking and
folding chewing gum wrappers
they were all over the
coffee table
I do that too
folding not smoking
John Destalo Sep 2020
shaving the skin
of a lemon

creating zest
adding just a

hint of flavor
to my dull life

it is that easy
to please me
John Destalo Jul 2020
soft
hard
smooth
rough
touch
feel
shed
shrink
cut
broken
covered
hidden
scarred
scarred
John Destalo Apr 2020
the emperor
gangland prince

standing above
looking down

spreading arms
as if he owned

the world
surrounded by

all those who fear
looking down on

and all you did
and all you said

rest once more
sweet prince

sleep beneath
your canopy of evil

and wake with a soul
feeling

all you deserve
for what you’ve done
For all the demagogues and their sycophants
John Destalo Jun 2020
can I ask you
a favor

if I lie on the
table in front

of you
will you

use a thin blade
make a small

incision in
my chest

remove the part
of me that needs

dissect my soul
until you

reach the seed

so you can
understand why

I live and
explain it

to me
John Destalo Jan 2020
I run and hide
I always have

since I was
very young

maybe it is
depression

I don’t know

I don’t disappear
completely

I’m not a ghost

but I need to
go away

for a while

sometimes
far away

sometimes
to my room

never to return
to the same place

but no place
is ever the same

many people
have met me

but few have
known me

I’m not a mystery
I just need to be

alone
John Destalo Jul 2020
I was hiding

this skin my
perfect cover

who would
look for a

soul so soft
and beautiful

radiant and
forgiving

inside this skin
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