January 16, 2013 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION











Anthony Desmond





I’ve seen plenty a men


Torn limb from limb


Like a traumatized soldier


At the end of a war


No matter the outcome


I’ll always be the loser


A never ending game of


Russian roulette


Followed by a shot of


Cheap vodka


To loosen the steady


Of my happy trigger finger


Like trying to piss


Without using my hands


And wondering who’s


Gonna clean up


This bloody mess


I’ve left behind


I can only hope


To God that I’m


Stricken with Pica


And enjoy the taste of bullets






Anthony Desmond




Bold Zulu God
In my dreams
I see flesh dripping
Like candle wax
Coating my tongue
Like white chocolate
It sticks to the roof
Of my mouth
So I can’t form words
I use my eyes and within them
You see sign language
Of the heart



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  1. Tasha February 13, at 19:13

    Lovely poetry from a lovely poet. Thanks for this colorful sharing. It does make the mind tingle and twinkle! Warm wishes, Tasha

  2. Bob January 29, at 22:20

    Nice publication and my friend Laura LaVeglia Grillo makes it even better, she is a great writer.

  3. laura laveglia January 29, at 19:31

    thank you for the exciting opportunity featuring two of my poems in your distinguished magazine. I was so happy to see my name and poems! Many of the poems I have read on your site are just fabulous. What a bunch of talented poets!!!! Best Regards, Laura LaVeglia

  4. Shari LeKane-Yentumi January 18, at 14:01

    Dear Simon, thank you for sharing this perspective that has long awaited its say, especially in poetic format as you have done so beautifully. - Shari


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