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We both drink from this sea of Blue.You live downstream, but I am upstream.night after night I dream—of you.I see the stream,but you’re far from view.Will the moon above cease to glow?Will my yearning cease to flow?One day our twin heartswill merge,waiting, not in vain,for tides to surge.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 166/365.Inspired by poetry…
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nestled withinmilky thighsvibrations purr underskilled fingersevokingaural ecstasy©2022 Bruno Talericorevised 2025Stafford challenge 165/365Image created with AI.
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a broad-brimmed hata rucksacka water bottlea pair of sturdy shoesa few days worth of fooda direction what more do you really need?© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 164/365
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This poem is a living thing.it is intemperate, moody,calm and collected in some moments,filled with passion and exuberance at others.This poem brims with vitalitywords pulsating with wondershadowed with ache; lines thick with insights or insultsoften suffused with careless beautyBe careful with this poemor it might wriggle freeescaping your graspslithering off into the grassnever to be…
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soft clouds passing byno rain ‘til monsoon seasonit’s desert humor© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 163/365.
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summer day dawningmonsoon clouds on horizoncooling storms ahead© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 161/365.
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afloat in clear pondunder canopy of starssweet luna rising© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 160/365.
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Words are constant,but what they represent often changes.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 159/365.
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Ejectedfrom warmth of the wombwithout claws or teeth for defense, trustingthat others willprovide, protect,nurture and guide.In most caseswe learn to walk and talk,to avoid danger and defend ourselves.We grow tallerand wider.Learn to make babies, money or both.At some pointwe stop growing taller,but continue growing wider,growing jowls, double chinsand grayer or lesser hair.We may grow wiseras…
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I go out with pocket knife and water bottleto explore the pre-dawn desert.No destination except toward the river. I crawl under the barbed wireand head downstream.The rock-strewn washtransports me into a magical worldof cactus and desert willow,a land of long shadows.Walking on uneven groundhas a way of forcing focuson the here and now,forcing a slower…
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Desert Dweller 