I’ve already learned to arrange
flowers pleasingly in a vase
to store things in a way that
makes finding them again easy
to pluck and string words together
to convey my intended meaning
but I’m still learning to use my own
thoughts to tell myself the truth

Cinse Bonino
2022

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--

No flashing Vacancy sign here.
I am not required to grant entry
to everyone who rings my bell
and attempts to sign in.

I don’t have to entertain
harmful idiocies
of the flower bearing
or forced entry persuasions.

I sit behind my counter
knitting neurons
into ever better clusters
based on my own boldness.

I sometimes drop
a stitch or two
but am usually pleased
with the patterns that emerge.

I’m not above
ripping out a few rows
I thought were precious
when I realize they feel uneven.

Cinse Bonino

--

--

my mom used to
always be obsessed
with her perfectly
formed feet

these days it’s all
she can do to look
down and admire
her shoes

I sent her a new white
pair one shoe with
a red rabbit the other
with flowers

she won’t remember
who sent the shoes
or how longs she has
had them but

she’ll smile and tap
her heels together
and giggle like
a second grader

Cinse Bonino
2023

--

--

why is it that we wait
for a lover’s eyes
to pull our beauty
to the surface
where we can see it?

why isn’t
our own gaze
enough to awaken
joy in our form
and substance?

let us be
self-portrait artists
finger-painting
our carnal selves
with appreciation

let us spit…

--

--

fear is a mind fucking earwig
that cuts deep grooves in your
cranium as it speed skates its
way through your gray matter

resentment is an angry group
of war mongers that stomp
across your chest determined
to kill the peace in your heart

joy is a cleansing shower that
rinses away the dread that turns
your blood to mud clogging
the flow of hope to your soul

Cinse Bonino
2023

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--

(for Walter)

a stark photo of an almost
unrecognizable man lying
and dying in a hospital bed
turned out to be Walter who
once delivered delightfully
irreverent edgy jokes and
local gossip in his gruff voice
as our laughter met in the air
and small pieces of my hair slid
to the floor down the stiff plastic
cape I and all the dark skinned
ladies sitting in chairs nearby wore
his eyes and mine sparkled as they
found each other in the giant mirror
my heart recognized the tenderness
of this throwback man who brought
to mind the image of powerful men
from my childhood who bowed their
heads obediently to their mothers

Cinse Bonino
2023

--

--

t

before you stop riding your bike
before I wear my ugly mittens
that keep my fingers warm

Cinse Bonino
2023

#winter #winterfashion #winterweather #biking #mittens #coldweather #cold #poetrycommunity #poetry

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Cinse Bonino

Cinse, a former professor with a background in the psychology of human learning, writes nonstop, and is addicted to capturing the human experience in words.