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Nick Puopolo Poem
Though I'll tell you what you want to hear
I'm not a prophet or a seer
My lies tap dance upon your soul
As your Cinderella dreams unfold
Bullshit woven to the letter
Assuring you there's no one better
Than me, to fulfill your need
Your virgin ears begin to bleed
One more drink we do the dance
Another ruse into your pants
Crafted words depth with skill
Now closing fast in for the kill
It's always just about my pleasure
Silk smooth lines cut to the measure
Crystal clear what was my aim
Reflecting on your walk of shame
Copyright © Nick Puopolo | Year Posted 2014
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Nick Puopolo Poem
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
When demons overtake, anxieties unbound
Black cat's silhouette far long upon the wall
Stairs creak, loud and clear, further down the hall
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
Reactive spirit, all alone, feeling every sound
Winds moan throaty, heavy through fractured eaves
Sinister pumpkins shimmering light, sit among the leaves
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
Unsettled thoughts, on the bend go 'round and 'round
Werewolves, Frankenstein, Dracula how they make us shudder
Hearts skip many beats escalating to a flutter
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
Anticipation, deep and dark, envelops and surrounds
Pinhead, Jason, Freddy - fill our mind with fright
Needless fodder for a nervous mind on Halloween night
Copyright © Nick Puopolo | Year Posted 2014
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Nick Puopolo Poem
Beyond the meadow pumpkins lay
Amidst the birch and bales of hay
Basking in the moonlit glow
Crows perch high on scarecrow
Leaves pirouette in the dark
Bats fly low then embark
Thistle swagger in the breeze
Just below the apple trees
Rabbits flitter 'cross the field
Stalks of corn embrace their yield
Looming shadows high they tower
Ever near the witchin' hour
House to house off they go
Candy baskets overflow
Costumed tots laugh with delight
On this hallow's eve night
Copyright © Nick Puopolo | Year Posted 2014
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Nick Puopolo Poem
My father passed a few years back, and he keeps appearing in my dreams, always on the same street and roughly the same dialogue. The poem/story has no real format. Just my feelings on it. Thanks!
Silent Street
On streets where past and present collide, holograms ride delta waves
You sidle up, gate light and easy, mid conversation
I Parse the rhetoric for glimmers of acceptance
But again benign, drivel muddles the way
The one sided blather on photography labors uncontested
Your catalogue, a thorough exhibition of you
Fitting. Buried emotions etched in celluloid
Reveling in silent shame, feeling a camaraderie
of sorts
Time is short, so silent I stay
Ears hinged for signs of accountability
A modicum of responsibility
And so I wait...
The pipe store beckons, it's almost time
Fading into the night he says We'll meet up later
I know we will. So Maybe, next time.
Till then, in silent space, I standalone. Apologies unrendered.
Copyright © Nick Puopolo | Year Posted 2022
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