3 Poems by Joe Bisicchia

By Joe Bisicchia


“Wrestling-8590” © David Hunt (https://www.flickr.com/photos/dhunt66/6676635519/)

Crammed school gymnasium,
rowdy partisans.
Two young men,
merely boys,
twist on center mat.

Seemingly not so long ago,
they wore out two families’ carpets.
They outgrew legroom in the laughter.
A broken vase and lamp,
each a mother’s sure disaster.

Now, beady eyed adults
yell out commands,
barely pausing for breath.
Two young men
take it step by step

alone on center mat.
Half nelson.
Wisdom knows what’s next.
Life’s real decisions
await the aftermath.

But they’ll both do well.
At one home there’s a glued vase.
At the other, the lamp is camouflaged.
So much for the damages.
No one would ever tell.

Pair of Tickets

Grounder to second.
Finger points to scoreboard.
Explanation of an E.

Ump with back bent.
Catcher with glove down in dirt.
Popped up and outta play.

Ground ball beaten foul.
What was Grampop like?
Line drive just fair down third base line.

Cracked bat.
Eyes going back, back, back.
Talk of fences and why they’re so high.

Thoughts on shoe size.
What color’s best for a bike?
Low and inside.

Hot dog wrapper rounding third.
Catch at warning track.
Talk of Mom at home and her pretty eyes.

Dribbler toward mound.
Moths in towering lights below black sky.
Best friend is one who understands.

Sharing life,
as life goes by,
pitch by pitch by pitch.

Short swing.
Long drive deep left field …
high-five hands.

Final Timeout

“Ball in Net” © slgckgc (https://www.flickr.com/photos/slgc/5480061187/)

The squared shifting segmented neon lines
slash a clock up on the cinderblock wall
as time dwindles toward zero its last fragments.

Silence, and then the sound of net.

And suddenly and painfully
at the gymnasium roar
the neon lines now stand still.

Coach gathers.

We’ve been prolific in our breathing
and in our timeout we circle huddled
to make best of what’s left,

needing to believing in him and each other

for our miracle that might be next.

Joe Bisicchia writes of our shared dynamic. An Honorable Mention recipient for the Fernando Rielo XXXII World Prize for Mystical Poetry, his works have appeared in various publications. The avid beach pebble collector is a former TV host and high school English teacher, now a public affairs professional, and once just a daydreaming teen who fell into a lake trying to catch a fly ball.

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