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I begin each daybefore dawn,receptive and willing to fail.During twilight hours,guidance is availableto those undistracted by other things.I begin withwhat seems important in this moment,then adapt accordingly.Authenticity exists in the dotted linesthat connect now to the future.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 318/365.
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Poets extend the language.They domesticate, examineand describe our terror while teaching itnew tricks that allow it to entertain and amuse.Poets remind us that we are alive in this worldof hardship and pain, friendship and love,this place of occasional joy and celebration.Poets point outthat we live in a universedeserving of honor and gratitude.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford…
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Matter and energynever disappear; they transform.Reorganizing, merging, morphing into new forms.Plants and animals die,decompose into nutrientsfor the oak, the mushroom, the fawn.Stars and planets collapseinto holes so dense light cannot escape.Some say the abyss blossomsinto new universes.Life and awareness are intertwined.What I call “me”is only on loan until death.Awareness is a mortgage, a death pledge,signed…
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In youth, time is still ahead.It seems ample;enough for hundreds of indecisions,multitudes of visions and revisions.The first card drawn requires a decision:keep it and reject the next,or discard the firstand keep the second.Sooner than expected,the deck plays out.Decisions made in a momenthave shaped our lives forever.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 315/365.
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like icy winds of Swedenwinter sweeps the desertclearing the dust© 2025 Bruno TalericStafford challenge 314/365.
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Do my words disturb you?Good!Do my words comfort you?Great!Have my words left you apathetic or neutral?Then I’ll have to try harder.© 2025 Bruno TalericoStafford challenge 313/365.Inspired by Dr. Cesar A. Cruz.
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I wake surroundedby barking, drooling beasts.Much like me, but not me.I’ve been trying to make senseof the disrupted dream I call my life.I wonder where my soul has gone.Has my resolve taken flight?How do I keep the wolves of madness away?I try to engage with them.Snarling, they display yellowed fangs.Run, and you die.Placing palms on…
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Dense whiteness of the snow, opaque and insulating,filling the gap between earth and tarp,blocking frigid air,protecting. Muffling. Panic!Will I be buried alivein my warm cocoon,undiscovered until the spring thaw,rats and ravensdrawn by the stench of my decay?In the thready pulse of night,I wake. Fearing suffocation,I uncover my head and shoulders,frantically stabbing my hickory walking stickthrough…
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How do you feel when your son or daughter lies to you?Angry? Sad? Disappointed?Where do they learn to lie?Is it from their peers, teachers, clergy, the news,or you?Have you told your children not to lie,then repeatedly lied to them?Have you taught your childrenthat the world took six days to create?(And when they questioned)Explain that days…
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These tears are free.Faces in the atmosphere smile and frown,never judgmental, even when I’m troubled.Here I am, cardigan draped over shoulders, woolen arms wrapped around me,warming my heart.There’s pressure to write on this mournful day,words straining,so hard to rhyme.The conversation with the cloudsseems one-sided and yet I hearand somehow understand.Strange—one second ago this thought didn’t…
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Desert Dweller 