By Bruno Talerico
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The good newsis your daughter’s recital,your son’s hugs,and blooming sunflowers.The good news is there waiting:Mom’s recipes,Dad’s poetry,chocolate ice cream.Disconnect the internet,Roll your eyes at your brother’s jokes,enjoy your sister’s laughter,luxuriate with a foot massage. Turn off the TV,view a friend’s paintings,listen to music,feel the soft purring of a kitten.Trash your cellphone,step outside, feel the sun,taste…
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Driving to nowherethinking about people you love,things you love to do. Driving to nowheremaybe Yosemite or Parisor oblivion. Driving to nowheremindfulof friends, family, lovers. Speeding to nowheretop down, hand out the windowwindsurfing, tunes turned upsinging aloud, shouting, laughing. When traffic’s clear,releasing the steering wheel,closing your eyes just for a moment.feeling the thrill, hair tangled in…
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Do we really want change? People often complain thatthere are no good candidates. Why aren’t there more good candidates? What have we done to earn the right to complain? What responsibilities do we have as citizens? Do we have a duty to vote in elections? Do we have a duty to be informed voters,choosing platforms,…
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Least or most.Best or worst.Expensive or cheap. Often in life,we are facedwith two choices. Right or wrong.Trump or Harris.War or peace. When facedwith two choices,often, we only missby one. © 2026 Bruno Talerico112/365
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Salt water, an excellent conductor of electrical energy.Salt water, the basic component of sweat, seawater, and tears. Wielding the whip,the counselor strikes over and over. Insulated, they struggle.Unable to relinquish that last ounce of control,resisting. holding back,withholding deep emotions,past hurts and future fears. Varying strokes, rhythmic or random,vicious or tender, staccato or piano,knowing they will…
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When there is a war and a scalp is taken,the people dance in celebration.There is a war,a war that hasn’t started yet, or perhaps one that hasn’t been noticed. Things are spinning, the hiss deafening.Events whistle as they cycle and recycle.Today’s news:the same as last month’s—only worse.Cycles of animosity shorten.Incidents of violencebecome more frequent.Things go…
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This could be a storyof triumph and failure,love and loss, orrags to riches.It could be a lessonabout survival, althoughI know that I will notsurvive this life.This could be a storyabout adventures,what I became,or that I was happy.But like most poems,it is simply left brain and rightarguing ad nauseam until I vomitthis nonsense onto the page.©…
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She sits like a man,feet firmly planted on the floor,yellow cotton dress drapedlike a hammock between widespread knees. Head thrown back,auburn tresses strewn over soft white shoulders,framing ivory bosomand canyon of cleavage. She speaks like a man,leaning in,to personal space, gesturing broadly. Turning up the volume to emphasize, attacking, defending, and conceding, with tactical precision.…
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Go all in on the future.Stop evading moments. Love everything,animate or inanimate, pleasant or painful. Refuse to be a statistic. © 2026 Bruno Talerico107/365
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shriveled lips share aches, pains and misgivingseyes pouring pailsof sea water © 2026 Bruno Talerico106/365
Desert Dweller 