Joseph V. Danoski

The February Featured Poet is Joseph V. Danoski

Please feel free to email Joseph at:Dojonaki@netscape.net



There’s an old man standing on the beach,
But for him the season’s out of reach.
He rolls his sleeves in the summer heat,
While people rock to a different beat.

He is looking south, but facing north,
Trying his best to enjoy “the fourth”;
A hot July and the warm sea breeze,
Perhaps unlocking his memories….

Of another day, another beach,
When the season was within his reach.

He seems out of place and in the way,
No longer part of the summer day;
An island amid a sea of grief—
Age, the enemy, and time, the thief.

He takes his shade from the noonday sun,
Away from the people having fun;
Then he drifts along the driftwood shore,
Nothing making much sense anymore.

There’s a young girl lying in the sand,
On her towel glistening, getting tanned;
Mere feet from him, and yet miles away,
Reminding him of another day…

Another day, on another beach,
When such as she was within his reach.

Every dog has its day, they say,
But this day is growing gravestone gray;
And the chance to be the cat’s meow—
He knows that season is over now.

He went home that day and died asleep,
In his yard with nothing left to keep;
On his garden swing, a drink in hand,
His shoes still caked with summer sand.

He went peacefully, the neighbors say,
Perhaps dreaming of another day…
Another day, on another beach,
When the summer was within his reach.


I’m crossing a bridge
On the ridge of my mind;
Between two worlds
With my life on the line.

Feeling myself fading in a mist,
Unbalanced over a black abyss;
Weighing the pros and cons
In contradiction,
Swaying with opinions
In opposition.

On one hand’s the sun,
On the other’s the moon;
As I walk not knowing
If it’s midnight or noon.

Beneath me the sea
And above me the sky;
With the Fates deciding
If we live or we die.

Suspended in time
Between reason and rhyme,
I’m crossing a bridge
On the ridge of my mind.


My little guest is such a pest,
He never lets me take a rest.
It’s a never-ending mending
Of his mistakes,
And the things he breaks
Every time he comes to play.
I wish my guest would go away.

He’s my pet demon,
Always screaming in my ear;
A persistent thought
Keeping me caught up
In constant fear.

Wish I could get him off my chest,
He really puts me to the test.
How he’s grown into house and home;
On my shoulder,
And growing bolder
Ever since he came to play.
I guess my guest is here to stay.

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.