Ferdinando Paparella Poems

Habitual nightmares
birth
somniphobic tendencies.
Unable to wake
...

Waiting
For the next
bag of lies.
He can't afford
...

I walk a seemingly familiar path
Getting closer to the answers
but
farther from the truth.
...

Cold is the man that perspires loneliness
and bleeds
uncertainty.
...

When rays of truth fall on bodies of lies
shadows are born out of chaos.

My shadow is impressive; Impervious to night
...

She is a lethal narcotic:
The sexiest stimulant. The most deceptive depressant.
I am a victim of addiction.
Her absence is the kink in my morphine drip.
...

Take me there.

Where the wind plays a heavenly hymn
with a harp strung from angel hair.
...

What once was the trunk
of a wise weeping willow
is now a withered page of paper
stained with the blood of an illiterate poet.
...

The Space Age Poet
carries a contagious complexity
that contaminates the canvas
he created so carefully
...