I Wonder

August 12, 2012

With her broken immigrant English I wonder does she think of me, this woman who loved me unconditionally. I wonder, does she dream of me as I of her, can she see me as she waves goodbye through curtains blowing in the wind. Does she know I am sorry for the letter the-misdeed. Did she get the letters I mailed to her, did she ever read them. It was a misunderstanding an attack of paranoia I wonder will I ever see her again. For a moment she was mean and she screamed such obscenities. Retaliation is such a bitch. It’s a constant itch in my prick. Words like poisoned darts went right to the heart, And the damage was done. I wonder, we had so much fun. Nonna Silcana Sperta grazie tanto por tu amore. Photo: Azarel, Color and design Rubin Gilbert

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Lucian A. Sperta

Published Author and Poet over 25 books in paper back and digital books Selected American Library Association 2015 Model Citizen 2013 Writer of the Month Meridan 1989 American Society of Authors Composers and Publishers since 1994 #8 Hot Top 100 Hot New Release in Poetry #1 Best in Photo Essay Amazon.com Some people think I expose myself too much in what I say in my poems, I don't consider myself a poet as much as I feel I am a story teller, how can one write subjected to other peoples point of view on how I write, what I write, and how I express myself. This is my journey and self expression is how I choose to deal with it; words, writing has been the outlet where I control without fear, without shame, the pen and paper will never betray you. A poet is one, I believe, can take a surgical scalpel to the soul and let it bleed what it truly feels.....

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Comments (1)

jwienerAug 12, 2012

"Words like poisoned darts went right to / the heart" is a prime example of your excellent use of imagery and really helps to give the poem an almost bitter edge to it.