Joseph V. Danoski

The June Selected Poet is Joseph V. Danoski

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



There’s nothing in the night that wasn’t there in the day;
Nothing in the shadows, nor in the shades of gray.
Although you tell yourself as you wend your way home;
You know this is the time when the wolves start to roam.

The creatures of the night that populate the dark;
The creepers on the street, the stalkers in the park.

A case of jitters, your heart is racing,
Someone following you.
Imagination, too many movies
Running away with you.

There’s nothing in the night that wasn’t there in the light;
Something still is watching, but staying out of sight.
The fears inside your mind now fill your little world;
At night they’re all set free when evening is unfurled.

On the tide of twilight, they swim the sea of night;
Monsters from your nightmares that flee before the light.


See the once-great planet that we call Mars,
Its canals of sand and seas of scars;
A teaming civilization smothered in dust,
A gleaming technology covered with rust.

What inspired your empire to rise and fall?
What divided your city with an iron wall?
Was it alien infiltration
And contamination of your race?
Or was it a case of invasion
From inner space?

Through the ‘scope I study this bloody sphere,
With its twin satellites of suspicion and fear;
And I can sense the present danger--
The same pattern of events
Developing here.

Hear the cry of a race that is no more,
A warning from space of what’s in store;
A disease and corruption just under the skin,
A secret society working within.

The sirens crying and the rising cost of crimes;
The violence that signifies the end of the times.
The breakdown in communication
And alienation of our race,
In another case of invasion
From inner space.


When the dawn yawns in the same way
Day after day,
And your skin’s turned gray
And as cold as the day;
You know that life has wasted you.

No one ever believed in you,
And nothing you believed was true;
Too many seasons with no reason,
And too much time to make it rhyme.

Wasting time was you’re only crime—
You never could make up your mind;
And they told you not to waste your life,
But it was life that wasted you.

When the moon looms larger than life
Night after night,
And your hair’s grown white
And as long as the night;
You know that life has wasted you.

You’re lost, forgotten, and feeling rotten;
A skeleton in the closet,
A picture in a locket,
Stopped like a watch
In a pocket of time.

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, Shock Waves: Letters from the Edge, back in 1987, under his old 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 was subsequently invited to read at City Hall.

Recent publications include Penny Dreadful, The Nocturnal Lyric, Psychopoetica (U.K.), Hadrosaur Tales, The Quest (India), Black Petals, Yellow Mama, Sanitarium Magazine, and The Horror Zine.

Joseph is a writer of letters and essays on diverse subjects, with strong opinions on many topics; but first and foremost, a poet of horror, science fiction and fantasy. His other activities include playing music, gardening, and stargazing.