By Bruno Talerico
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Isn’t it strangethat things in your lifecan make you cryjust knowing they existedthen, later, become the exact thingthat brings forth the tearsknowing that they’re gone.Those are the thingsbrought into our livesto help us movefrom one placeto a better one.© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 90/365.
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I never want to visit Dachau…again. I don’t need to be reminded that there is evil in this world. I hope that’s not where America is headed.
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Here I am,cherishing the gift,the book of poetry you gave.A book about love and separationa book about stars and marsand manhattan twilight.So many years, so many miles apartyet, somehow connectedwhere spirit resides.Connected each time I read aloudthe rhymes of ancient times, rhymes of astrology and mythology,rhymes of six pointed snowflakes.Still connected on the astral plane,the…
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curtains flutterpowered by windartfully framingdesert landscapemovementdrawing attentionto what is thereoutside the windowwaiting to be appreciated© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 88/365.
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Sometimeswhen creativity stalls,it helps to take a break .A break in routine,a coffee breakbreak the mold.Break a leg—not literally—however, now that I thought of it,a broken bone is likely to trigger some creative language.Go for a hike,call an old friend,get a pedicure,go skydiving.So, if there’s a daywhen my creative juices run slow or just don’t…
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The pages turn faster every day.Reading more slowly,I savor the words.A leisurely review of my life story.Wandering through misleading halls,rooms without doors, towers without stairs.whispers reflect, evidently answering unspoken questions.Evaluating triumphs and losses.acknowledging mistakesof thought and action,realizing my faith has failed.Reading more slowly,I savor the wordsand wonder who will hear my talewhen there is no…
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mountain peak blows kissesto beloved riverlike whirling dervishesafternoon dustswirls and dances© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 85/365.
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Even though my nose is redit’s not from winter chill or icy windfrom leading Santa’s sleigh.The sniffles betray and,like snows of Kilimanjaro,the growing mountain of used tissuesconfirms, it’s a cold, allergies or both.So even though my nose is red,please don’t call me Rudolph.© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 84/365.
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Pouring out pains and sorrows,loves and lusts,successes and challenges. Verbal expressionsof human frailtyand vulnerability.Friends gatheredin the safety of love.Poetry in motion.© 2025 Bruno Talerico Stafford challenge day 78/365.
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I love to walk in the desert alone.People say I’m insane,but solitary hikes are no riskier than most things in life.I walk very far, until my old legs say “enough”I find shade under a gnarled mesquite and sit quietly still.When given my full attention,Mother Earth reciprocates with wisdom and nourishment.Hiking aloneprovokes existential awareness,wakens intrinsic understandings.Whether…
Desert Dweller 