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Best Poems Written by Vincent Caruso

Below are the all-time best Vincent Caruso poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Jesus Haiku

Jesus, tell me what
heaven, hell, and God are like.
Like, quiz me on it.

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Tyrant Haiku

The clock's time is off.
Like a capricious tyrant,
my cell is bothered.

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Beggar Haiku

The beggar, once prince,
is now dancing on his head.
He tries be common.

The beggar gives gold.
How he tries to give it worth
in the people's hands!

The beggar, confused,
listens to the great singers,
impressed by found words.

Everyone is
a little bit right and wrong:
all we know of truth.

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Unseen Creek

A thunder somewhere.
by the fire ring, used wood.
unseen creek awash.

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God's Tao

I look towards God's Tao.
I have walked faster than tears.
Red delirium.

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Haiku

Someone decided
to place you where you are, seed
falls from the bird's wing.

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When I Plucked Out My Brain, I Saw

When I plucked out my brain, I saw
it had roundness and grooves.
So it was a wheel and fire.
It was also made to aspire.
There were literature and awe
when it would move
like an unlit seed in winter.
I would come to despise its birth.
It lacks a maid, a lover, and call nurse.

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On the Sidewalk, My Eyes Wander

On the sidewalk, my eyes wander
till arrested by Noel.
So they have passed as tall phantoms.
So the rainbow blinds, burns, and dumbs.
So it will always be surrender.
I who have dwelt
in lone drives praying for God's thumb
must be patient with the devil.
Our ogles meet, at the bevel.

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The Cryptic Man and Woman's Code

Hello, this is beyond the, the voicemail.
This is the brick corner and ribbon road.
Goodbye, bygone, this is no real detail.

This is falsetto time and lost signal,
miles away, minutes long, and God’s load.
Hello, this is beyond the, the voicemail.

This is the neurotransmitter that failed,
forced friction burning holes in the Orr cloud.
Goodbye, bygone, this is no real detail.

This is the hand placing coins on the scale.
This is the ear searching by stereo. 
Hello, this is beyond the, the voicemail.

This is no go, no context in Braille.
This is the cryptic man and woman’s code.
Goodbye, bygone, this is no real detail.

This is me. This is no love song that wails.
This is the only bluff I know in town.
Hello, this is beyond the, the voicemail.
Goodbye, bygone, this is no real detail.

Details | Vincent Caruso Poem

Preludes

I.

Rain beats down on the smoky beach,
all paths the gull flies, and in his
resistance.
A thousand white shells in the mist
are seasoned with stinging pepper.
You reconsider
signs, velocities of strummed winds;
of which sand dunes, waves bound, would have 
you become king,
had you not surrendered to ask?
The speakers know about this thing.
Through the windshield bodes a dark church.
Men have come in suits not to search.

II.

1st is 3rd street; 4th is Main street.
We sit like naked apes
and call upon our fake names
in a nameless world where we meet.
Slightly wave to the guard 
at the gate, lush gardens and palms,
carried in songs,
any road has glass shards.
Shiny ravens squawking hard,
the flat morning. Traffic eye.

III.

Conspiratorial circles
over bland coffee, cigarettes, dull
wits, and a drunkard's revolution.
Sparrows hop, pick crumbs of muffins.
A clock faces a mirror's lull.
Presidential debate
on TV is like something to mull.
They say there is a solution,
sort of a truth-be-told.
And when I notice her, I misread her,
absent of me, what does war matter?
What do I care about human bombs?
Sand camouflage, countries' elephants,
Abraham and Cain and Able?
But I turn my head, shoot more bull.
Top the hill, at the broken tombs,
as kids we had no resistance.

IV.

Insufficient data coming
through, through the speakers a call,
Father is Son, Son is Father.
Turn around to watch free seagulls
in the mist above; they are becoming,
three of us on one sheet cumming.
Turn around, one bombed another.
And the whimsical cat meows.

I no longer read the papers now.
The news crowds like the Japanese
in Tokyo, when they sing Karaoke
and buy the latest game for Wii.

But you, my brother, send messages
about what you have heard, done, and seen.
Then life is as gentle as can be.