By Bruno Talerico
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Even on the plains of terror, there is magic. Reading about it, seeing pictures of it,hearing stories by survivors about itis not the same as experiencing it.Unfortunately, in order to recognize it,we have to endure it, witness it. We are witnesses to cruelty: the cruelty of hatredthe cruelty of intolerancethe cruelty of indifference not as…
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Grasses swayon the desert breeze.Wherever we stand, there is life.That is what we write. A cat purrs.However narrow the ground,our words and phrasesare an echoof the life where we stand. The dishwasherclicks and swishesto the backbeatof ‘Scarborough Fair’stuck in my head. © 2026 Bruno Talerico32/365.
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Most speak to hear themselves,each retelling of their stories more heroic than the last. The wise learn by silence,content to listenwithout a rush to judgment. When you’re not in a hurryto tell your own story, people relax. © 2026 Bruno Talerico31/365.Inspired by writings of Grant Forsythe.
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We can’t control the past,only what we think or do about it.Do we grieve and let go,take the lessons learned and apply them?,Or do we get stuck,lingering in a time that no longer exists?How we respond to the pastinfluences our path and direction toward the future. It’s probably a good ideato be mindful in the…
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The religiousspend their livesin anticipationof an imagined future;expectation of an afterlifethat might not exist. The spiritualexist in the very real present,appreciatingthe paradise we live inwithout expectation. For them, if heaven exists,it is a bonus. © 2026 Bruno Talerico31/365.
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Yesterday the sky wept,nourishing the land.Today the sunmakes us sing and dance.Tomorrow the windwill invite us to fly.Until the cloudsinduce us to cry.© 2026 Bruno Talerico 30/365.
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What happened to our pride,our respect for ideals and each other?When will Americabecome a country again?The second American revolutionhasn’t begun.I guess we’re waitingfor the next level of tyranny:the next abuse of power,the next big lie,the next door kicked in.We spent billionsand buried astronautsto grab a few souvenirs from the moon.What if instead we had investedin…
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Squatting in strained blue.Who could resist herin that blue dress?Girls clamoring for new clothes, kids complainingabout what Mom made for dinner. Frizzy hippie hair,feet in salt water,wind chimes in the old maple,peaks and troughs of the dunes,the pause between the waves. Peanut vendors chanting,air filled with pot,goat scent and peacock chorus. Skritch of pen on…
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I want to givemy love untilyou can takeno more, butwant no less. © 2026 Bruno Talerico26/365.
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Bombs haven’t fallen on American soil,and tanks aren’t rollingthrough neighborhoods— yet. We are at war:a war ofgreed versus compassion. Tankers have been pirated.Boats have been sunk.Men drown—and are shot. Foreign leaders have been kidnapped.Allies have been threatened. We are at war:a war oftruth versus propaganda. Citizens have been murdered. We have been at war:a war…
Desert Dweller 