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	<title>John L. Stanizzi - Prachya Review</title>
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	<title>John L. Stanizzi - Prachya Review</title>
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		<title>Poems by John L. Stanizzi</title>
		<link>https://prachyareview.com/2016/07/31/poems-by-john-l-stanizzi/</link>
					<comments>https://prachyareview.com/2016/07/31/poems-by-john-l-stanizzi/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[admin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 31 Jul 2016 04:59:31 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[John L. Stanizzi]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.prachyareview.com/?p=1614</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>NO MORE TROUBLE                                              Cuban Missile Crisis                                                October 12, 1962                                                October 28, 1962     It must be that it was intuition fueled by overheard conversations that the adults around me were having, their faces shaded by worry in their eyes, because I wouldn’t know until later the things they were [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://prachyareview.com/2016/07/31/poems-by-john-l-stanizzi/">Poems by John L. Stanizzi</a> first appeared on <a href="https://prachyareview.com">Prachya Review</a>.</p>]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<h3><strong><img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" class="alignnone wp-image-1644 size-medium" src="https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/8b361-homecoming-2-1-300x253.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="253" srcset="https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/8b361-homecoming-2-1-300x253.jpg 300w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/8b361-homecoming-2-1.jpg 501w" sizes="(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" /></strong></h3>
<h3><strong>NO MORE TROUBLE</strong></h3>
<p><strong>                                             </strong><em>Cuban Missile Crisis</em></p>
<p><em>                                               October 12, 1962</em></p>
<p><em>                                               October 28, 1962</em></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p>It must be that it was intuition<span id="more-1614"></span></p>
<p>fueled by overheard conversations that</p>
<p>the adults around me were having, their</p>
<p>faces shaded by worry in their eyes,</p>
<p>because I wouldn’t know until later</p>
<p>the things they were trying to hide from me &#8212;</p>
<p>the 43 seconds until the end,</p>
<p>the uranium bullet, the vapors</p>
<p>of people that left shadows, the pressure,</p>
<p>the tsunami of smoke, the wind that raged</p>
<p>a thousand miles per hour, the heat of</p>
<p>7000 degrees, the vanishing</p>
<p>of tens of thousands in that instant wrath &#8212;</p>
<p>vague debris that razed me each night with fear.</p>
<p><em> </em></p>
<h3><strong>RASTAMAN, LIVE UP!</strong></h3>
<p><strong>                                    </strong><em>August 31, 2011,     </em></p>
<p><em>                                        for Jonathan</em></p>
<p>In those first perfectly still moments just</p>
<p>after his death, everything in the room</p>
<p>was the color of the wrinkled, faded</p>
<p>sheets, even the people and their clothing,</p>
<p>the furniture, the curtains, the cell phones</p>
<p>the people would use to bring the sad news &#8212;</p>
<p>everything there was a flat-gray that could</p>
<p>only absorb the departure of the</p>
<p>spirit, though not really comprehend its</p>
<p>going – it was in those first perfectly</p>
<p>still moments after your grandfather’s death</p>
<p>that you sat in the chair next to his bed,</p>
<p>held his hand and chanted softly &#8212; <em>Live up!</em></p>
<p>praying for both of you in the gray air.</p>
<p><em><strong>About the Poet</strong></em></p>
<p><img decoding="async" class="alignnone wp-image-1615 size-medium" src="https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/c9d73-head-shot-prachya-1-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" srcset="https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/c9d73-head-shot-prachya-1-300x225.jpg 300w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/c9d73-head-shot-prachya-1-768x576.jpg 768w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/c9d73-head-shot-prachya-1.jpg 960w" sizes="(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />John L. Stanizzi is author of <em>Ecstasy Among Ghosts, Sleepwalking,</em> <em>Dance Against the Wall</em>, <em>After the Bell</em>, and <em>Hallelujah Time!</em>  His poems have appeared in <em>Prairie Schooner</em>, <em>The New York Quarterly, American Life In Poetry, Chiron Review, Tar River Poetry, Rattle, Passages North, </em>and many others.  John has read at many venues throughout Connecticut, including The Sunken Garden Poetry Festival, RJ Julia Booksellers, and the Arts Café Mystic.  His work has been featured on Garrison Keillor’s <em>The Writer’s Almanac</em>.  He is an adjunct professor of English at Manchester Community College.  He lives with his wife, Carol, in Coventry, Connecticut.   <a href="http://www.johnlstanizzi.com">http://www.johnlstanizzi.com</a></p><p>The post <a href="https://prachyareview.com/2016/07/31/poems-by-john-l-stanizzi/">Poems by John L. Stanizzi</a> first appeared on <a href="https://prachyareview.com">Prachya Review</a>.</p>]]></content:encoded>
					
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