Tipton Poetry Journal
Ho' oponopono Joe Bisicchia We sit and try to talk. Paradise is down the hall, far beyond the exit door. Pineapple had traveled all the way, all the way here. I’d rather travel to it. Hawaii. Rather outside sit. See the sea, and feel the mist. But then again, everything’s so close. I can feel it. Close as Kansas City to here. Close as Kansas to Missouri. So much missed being so far from you. And we share it from a dish. And the illness of my heart hurts all of me but we smile somehow over the pineapple. I forget the reasons I tried to stop loving you. Because I’ve never stopped. Maybe forgiveness is my start healing all of me. And divided islands cluster sliver by segment, by carved wedge, piece by peace. Joe Bisicchia writes of our shared spiritual dynamic. An Honorable Mention recipient for the Fernando Rielo XXXII World Prize for Mystical Poetry, his works have appeared in Sheepshead Review, Balloons Lit. Journal, The Inflectionist Review, Black Heart Magazine, Dark Matter Journal, Poets Collectives Anthologies and others. The current public affairs professional in New Jersey is a former award winning television host who also taught high school English. Website: www.widewide.world; Twitter: https://twitter.com/theb_line.