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Anthony Romano Poem
Unequivocal
Divinity, eyes-shut Spring
Weathers winters’ all!
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2010
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Anthony Romano Poem
What do you see
When you open your ears and hear
The smell of death
Descending upon the valley
Quickly and methodically
Choosing words to fit
The description
While the sketch artist
Chokes them down with a
Lime juice chaser.
Upon completion,
You see a mirror on the desk
And marvel at your own eyes
Gazing intently at your own
Eyes.
Confusion.
How does one project themselves?
Only I recognize me.
I giggle at the self-loathing,
And the pathetic detective work.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2008
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Anthony Romano Poem
I was delusional
Enough to think
twenty-five rose
Petals could create countless
Memories of exhilarating
Romance, the kind that
Leaves your stomach falling
And then fading away like a child
Echoing himself inside
A deep and devastating
Well.
I was delusional
Enough to think
Wit could match
Familiarity,
All the while using the
Most charming
Yet rational banter
Possible.
I was also delusional
Enough to believe in
Time-machine love,
And what would have been
Had our hearts not been
Otherwise engaged.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2010
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Anthony Romano Poem
When your best friends
Wear lab coats
And carry instruments
The steal smiles
And steam the meaningful
stains
Out of your soul,
(The little imperfections
In all of us that
Help sculpt and mold
Our images)
Remaining self-aware for
Self-awareness’ sake
Becomes potentially problematic.
Floating above reason with
A touch of lethargy
Maximizes self-control
But detracts from
Fundamental choice.
Insomnia limited to
Social norms
Slashes and burns
A one-way path to
Narcoleptic days
And where have the
Weeks gone?
Seasons move like
Speed-demon racecars,
Their tornado tailwinds
Blowing up skirts as they pass.
The looks I draw would
Tarnish steel,
Heavy and demeaning;
With an arrogant smile,
I brush off my shoulder
And look through
The wormhole.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2009
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Anthony Romano Poem
Would an inter-dimensional
Time sphere capture all the
Details needed to transform
A mere thought-provoking
Image into a mind splitting
Reality? We can see in front
Of our eyes the two plus two
Of it all, but what when the
Solution no longer fits the
Problem and creating water
Out of wine is not just for the
Divine? I can accept what I cannot
See, but not what I cannot feel,
Owing all I have to the skeletons
In my closet.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2010
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Anthony Romano Poem
Can you turn
Around and tell
Lies with your eyes
And fibs with your face
Because it hurts
To see your smile
Develop, superimposed
And not visible to the
naked eye. It hurts to
see your childish
“He hit me first!”
mentality suddenly slip
between the planes of
maturity and loyalty.
And it hurts too much
to take this lying down,
‘cause the knife in my back
really hurts when I try and
roll over. Thanks for the
lesson, I soaked up your
soul with a sponge, to
be wrung out the next time
trust tells me a new story.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2010
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Anthony Romano Poem
The creaking door announces
Workboots demeaning the “Welcome Mat”
Pillow touched voices grow closer
Harder
Closer
Apple grass licks my bare feet
As I launch from
The room soon corrupted
By sugar filled noses
And failed breathalyzers
And thrown utensils
And threatened throats
Coated with failed divorce
And corrupt psychology
And unanswered questions
And dollar bill love,
But my love costs more
Than cherry bicycles
And lightning scooters.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2007
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Anthony Romano Poem
Restless shaking
is all that divides
the two equal realms
that exist between
heaven and hell,
between sleep and
slumber;
the utmost plane
sought to by the
Shroud himself,
creeping inside
the Gates of Peter,
influencing free will
and leg-locked choice.
Time passes like a
youngsters basketball
through traffic, with
brooding afterthoughts;
yet praying the wet
road dries,
the car grows ABS,
or the driver had one less
beer than he thought.
Loose ends entangle
themselves in the "Patient Spider's"
web,
because eventually
the soul-searching moth will fly
towards the light,
creating ****** out of
ignorance.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2009
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Anthony Romano Poem
White lines mesmerize
tired eyes
weeping for lost memories and
thoughts forgotten with age
east
west
the green signs grow
brown and cry with
every strapped in infant
that cross their paths
another soul forgotten
another memory lost.
Tick tock
Tick tock
The time crawls slower
Than grandma in her Buick riding the left lane
Amid the honking horns
And staggering blows
To her frail psyche
She still maintains the
Speed limit
Audi blue
Type-r yellow
And candy-apple red
Transition thought
To thought
And remind me
How good I had it
Three hours ago.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2008
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Anthony Romano Poem
I swear I was an innocent bystander
when the mirrored metallic hotdog crossed the planes
of surreal and subconcious.
I witnessed the takeoff faster than a time touched
woman in a suburban grocery store
when the last carton of milk with that later date is taken
from the mirrored door, reflecting her greed;
carried away to the late night Bingo games
and trips to the Cadillac dealership
and soon to that comfortable wooden box,
methodically placed in the swiss cheese soil.
We cry out,
the little girls with clay knees and puzzle-touched dresses
we cry out,
the little boys with bloated bellies and sunken eyes.
We cry out,
Red Cross, refugee camps, blood diamonds and Darfur.
Limbs become scattered by
a government tattered with Public Service announcements and our safety is now measured
by a color.
We call out to injustice with our broken generation.
struggling identites with wasted souls and plagued memories
of fallen twins and combustible buses.
We call out to injustice.
Copyright © Anthony Romano | Year Posted 2007
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