poetry web

A slight ache throbs behind
my eyes,
a little ache
just behind my eyes.
I am studying how I may compare my…
A shaft opens up from my throat to my groin.
Sighs are my food, drink are my tears…
Waking is darker than sleep.
I dreamt of blood while beside me
a madwoman laughed.
And this morning, the TV runs on,
bringing her comfort and me
a feeling so lonesome I could
—–
Alec Solomita has published fiction and poetry in Eclectica, The
Adirondack Review, The Mississippi Review, Southwest Review, and
elsewhere. Most recently, his work has appeared in Turk’s Head
Review, MadHatLit, Truck, 3ElementsReview, and Atomic. Several of his poems will be published in the forthcoming Fulcrum: An International Anthology of Poetry and Aesthetics. He lives in Somerville, Mass.

Inside a wall
under a roof
on a floor
legs folded
body hunched
I read a poem
By poem’s end
I am un-walled
un-roofed
un-floored
un-folded
un-hunched
un-read
un-I’d

More at http://www.larryschugpoet.com.

not convinced that I understand poetry
not convinced that I like it anyway
the way it gets all caught up in words and reflection
the way it mixes imperfect recollections with
a gnawing sense of loss and loss and loss
not sure that there’s an answer to prayers or
if there is anyone who listens to mine or
cares if I am in the midst of a crowd or
sitting alone staring at an empty page pen in hand
wondering where to begin, where to end
a red sun rises in the east red rays color my room
not a sound to be heard this summer morning
not one bird all atwitter in a branch outside
my open window even the air is still
no one hears my passing thoughts fears
I am a quiet morning without a breath of air
a pen scratching aimless inside a notepad.

I wish I could lay on a windmill blade,
and write poems about the way
the sun has taken on the hills
as her lesbian lover
but every time I try,
I fall to the ground,
and miss the way
their lips caress each other.

More at https://chickadeesweetie.wordpress.com.