David Kowalczyk Poems

His prayers
vanish instantly.
...

This word is best pronounced
preceded by an extended gasp.
...

The lies you
whisper so sweetly
into my ears
can never touch
...

On a face meticulously sculpted
from melancholy memories,
her smile remains one
of cool poison, of beauty
...

Cold and callous December morn,
the magpies were mute.
Cynthia resigned herself to
stoically collecting tolls on
...

Beginning thirty years ago,
a desire, never a lust,
to be lovers. Our mask of
friendship more a sedative
...

Kissing you
was like drinking
mango nectar
from the marble breasts
...

Like a hundred jackals rapidly
licking the sun from the sky,
memories of my childhood
riot within my soul.
...

My mother was
a being born of
miracles, of monsters,
magic, mayhem
...

Of a stern and ancient November
afternoon, life retreats from us
slowly yet incessantly.
...