Two Parts

A dialogue between Man and Society

[mcbernicchi]

Dogs

My mother says the dogs aren’t smiling but sweating and they can’t love only obey only once they smelled cancer and were nicer to the cat and I wonder if my mother knew love

[mcbernicchi]

walking out of prospect park

walking out of prospect park the city lit/ out of breath exposing you pure pellicular placenta wears a coat vest of membrane in may umbilical weeping beech saturated in stillness shelter from a sound timid [after birth] to hide a part of me lined with london planes unscraped by flatbush and free to get lost without a sky and i wear my vest when i leave and reach back for leaves of grass but grab brick instead i’m a scared kid again cabs resolved like steady hands hail darting through crosswalksaswind tethered soul abide walking out of prospect park is like walking out of the womb [on your own] two feet with headphones in

[mcbernicchi]

music, underground

the city is a lung the bard is the boroughsbreath aspirated in the crosstown stop

[kidstuf]

[mcbernicchi]

Cloud Silver Rain Table Lamp

[ffrenchtoast]

[hillarystee-blog]

transit | collage 8 x 10

[mcbernicchi]

Drinking a 97 rated Tripel Ale for breakfast. #carbloading

[adamwestmusicofficial]

[mcbernicchi]

paper hats and cardboard swords

When I was a boy, 

I would 

hide under the table 

whenever my parents’ friends 

would visit. 

My parents would tell them 

I was a table monster, 

but they 

would always peek under 

and see 

that I was just an odd boy.

So much of who 

I am comes 

from fighting off 

older brothers.

I fight like Israel

with words,

and with weapons, 

of paper hats 

and cardboard swords.

I used to dream 

of running away, 

hitchhiking across the country 

and raising myself. I never did,

though; 

and this theme continues 

throughout my life.

I was always jealous 

of kids who had 

imaginary friends. 

Mine were always real, 

and because of that, 

always disappointed me.

I remember 

when our cat Jasmine died; 

the other animals lined up 

in a procession 

to say their goodbyes. 

Animals know each other 

better

than we do.

Thirty years 

have gone by at an 

appropriate pace, though I 

have failed to keep up 

at times. When life 

is passing you by, 

sometimes it’s best 

not to look out the windows.

Sometimes 

I think that I 

am still a boy, hiding 

under my parents’ table,

waiting for the strangers

to leave. And sometimes, 

I think, 

I am the stranger.

[mcbernicchi]

I left you behind...

I left you behind, 

half-starred and lonely,

lonely as night-wars,

and torn at the seams.

If I could raise a bullet

to know what life is worth,

I would first show it a picture,

and let it make the choice.

If shells had pleasant names,

and didn’t fracture time,

I would name mine Cain

and let him grow alone

in the wilds of my heart,

wild where we grow,

to where we’ve never been;

wild and lonely children 

wandering, 

hair grown long

and fingers itching.

I harp east at first light

to let them know

their battles blaze,

bullets tear,

sinew resists, 

and I scar, 

though was never nicked.

[mcbernicchi]

voice from the past

Don’t think twice...

As you go,

but your footsteps 

will linger, 

like your fingertips, 

clinging 

to my chest, 

like a singer to the mic, 

figuring out what’s 

next 

to sing about,

I take it all in,

and 

w r i t e 

it 

all 

down...

it’s alright

[mcbernicchi]

Jellyfish...who's got some bread? (Taken with Instagram)

[mcbernicchi]

From Blackbeard to Blackoutbeard (Taken with Instagram)

[mcbernicchi]

Fourth of July hoopla (Taken with Instagram)

[mcbernicchi]

as the lighthouse witnessed

The sun flashed 

a smile in her last glance 

across the gulf, 

the waves 

curling and crashing 

like frost-tipped lashes 

rolling out 

to meet a past lover. 

We held hands 

on the remnants of 

a concrete dock, 

watching the osprey glide 

across 

and cut through the wind 

as my hand often does 

while cruising down 

the interstate.  

As we 

just sat and absorbed 

the scene, 

we watched, 

and laughed 

as the local fisherman

(shirtless and 

hurling cast nets into the flats)

managed to scare away 

the uneasy snowbirds 

and their high-powered Nikons. 

Apparently the thought of actual fisherman roaming the shores, sans shirt and bandana clad, seems paltry and barbaric to the sock-and-sandal wearing poachers from the north.  Trying to capture the “perfect” picture of the Florida coastline, they fail to see Florida life.

As we 

turned our focus 

back 

into the amber skies abroad, 

I could see 

that the birds 

hadn’t been bothered at all 

by this 

little disturbance on the shore, 

so why would we? 

I’ve lived here 

for 26 years; 

I reserve 

the right to laugh 

at the absurdity of tourists. 

so we did. 

We laughed 

together and kissed,

and we continued 

to sit 

almost motionless

 in the gulf breeze, 

watching the sun 

somehow 

manage to linger 

with her last few breaths 

for just 

a moment longer, 

casting its remaining light

on Florida life.

[hillaru]

#collage #barneys #1964 (Taken with Instagram)