The December Selected Poet is
Joseph V. Danoski
Please feel free to email Joseph at: Dojonaki@Netscape.Net
LOVE AMONG THE TOMBS
The moon was red and rising,
Her flesh was fresh and blue;
The mingled scent of death
And the sweetest of perfume.
I tasted each forbidden fruit
And touched what was taboo;
But once you’ve drunken
Of the dregs,
No other drink will do.
She’s my woman of the ruins,
My love among the tombs.
Sometimes, in blackest forest
The brightest flower blooms.
It becomes an acquired taste
Like a favorite brew—
With you fallen into ruin
Amid the midnight gloom.
But once you’ve drunken
Of this drug,
It’s love among the tombs.
THE SECOND COMING OF THE DEAD
We are the unearthly, the unworthy
And otherworldly.
We’re the underground,
The upside-down
And dirty.
We are the inhumans, in our ruins,
Moving in the gloom;
The unborn crying,
The dying rising
From the tomb.
Today’s the day of the night we rise;
The night we materialize
Before your eyes.
Tonight it’s coming to a head;
The second coming of the dead.
CRYPTOZOID
In my oracle of power,
All the wee hours of the night;
A muffled undulating rhythm
Runs like a river through my life.
Living with a cold grave feeling
And a growing sense of dread;
In the hallway, hear them calling—
Demons screaming to be fed!
Once again, I take the staircase
Spiraling down;
Descending to the lower levels.
And I sometimes wonder
If I’ll ever outgrow—
Hanging around in the underground.
Here, the restless spirits
Still endlessly roam,
The crypts and catacombs
That belie this home.
Here, I light the candles
And the corners dark—
Rekindling the covenant
And creative spark.
In this midnight world inverted,
Turned upside-down;
Suspended in my secret revels.
And I sometimes wonder
If I’ll ever be found—
Living it up in the underground!
Drinking with the old brave spirits,
Till their voices fill my head;
All these bottles lie in waiting
Like the bodies of the dead.
Inside my chamber of torture,
In the warm belly of the earth;
Amid the ancient dust and decay,
Awaiting the day of my birth.
Joseph V. Danoski lives happily on the “plains of his imagination” in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. He published his first book of poems titled Shock Waves: Letters from the Edge back in 1987, under his pen name Jonathan Konrad. This book is still being sold in local bookstores, and has been reviewed favorably a number of times.
Through the years, Joseph has had quite a few of his poems published in the city’s newspaper, The Berlin Reporter, where for a time he had a byline in its poetry corner. In 1997 he was asked by the Chamber of commerce to write something appropriate for the Berlin Centennial Celebration. After researching the history of the area and the paper-making industry, he wrote a poem titled “The City Built from Trees” which he read at City Hall.