PoetryMagazine.com


Joseph Crow Riley
USA

If Darth Vader, Kit Marlowe, Woody Allen, and somebody noble were crammed into that trans-mat thingamajig that turned Jeff Goldblum into a fly, the ungodly creature that would emerge would most likely be something like Joseph Crow Riley. His life is a never ending tug of war between the priest and the poetĖthe priest wants to be austere and puritanical; the poet wants to be raging mass of self-indulgence. He has won awards for both his fiction and poetry. He has been published in many periodicals for poetry, essays, fiction, historical, theological, and political analysis. He currently resides in rural South Jersey. He currently resides in Carneys Point, sharing his home with three dogs, a cat, a bird, and the occasional flea.

 

 

 

Juliette's Haiku

when she plunged the knife
she condemned me for bleeding
and i died alone

 

 

hurt

itís the hurt
that hurts
the whys
the wherefores
the whatevers...
they are not the hurt
they only expose it
point to it
whisper it
 
your intentions
are irrelevant
the hurt is all that matters
all there is
what you intend
and what I feel
are so different
yet forever entwined
 
I donít want you to tell me of the love you still feel
when I can only feel the love that is no longer there
like a blanket that is too small in the cold
like a leaky roof dripping over my pillow as I sleep

 

 

 

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