Happy New Equinoxes

the wind
ride its journeyed travels
whirling gusting
cool warm
feel
exuberance
a leaf falling
riding
the whirlwind
no beginning,
no end
not unlike
a bud
it opens
then falls
at the arboreal feet
to feed
to grow another
an unbroken cycle

happy new equinoxes
Winter
Spring
Summer
Fall

souls at rest

My body wakes from its dreams
it senses the warmth of your breath
your long eye lashes caress your cheek
as you sleep knowing my soul
lies next to you

Another day another night ascends
onto the divine of our time together
the many days of Spring seasons
have come and gone but not without
our sharing kisses in each others' arms

The many misty mornings covered in dew
and we’ve awaken together to, our wonderings
of when it lifts, will we see the pedals that fell
at our feet when in the dusk of the night before
we strolled as two young lovers do

Nature’s canvas is now painted winter white
and how many of these have we cuddled to
reading and listening to the cracklings
the kindling of the flames flailing about
our faces glowing mesmerized and warmed

My body now aches and my skin no longer taught
with wrinkles and folds from many seasons
past but our souls that lie next to each other
show no signs of age for the love we hold
time dare not come between

When our folds of skin become earthen ware
underneath some other lovers feet
our souls shall be their mist, we'll surf the pedals
on brooks and streams and
we'll ride the wind of Spring,
we'll smile of embers' glow upon their faces
on winter's nights  

If tomorrow does not come

the Oak tree stands proud, regal and strong today
if tomorrow does not come

cardinals and bluejays flutter and fly today
if tomorrow provides them no more space

hear wind rustling the leaves today
if tomorrow it stands still, at rest

white cottons aloof in an azure canvas
if they cannot hover tin their sky omorrow

flora’s fingers and arms praise the sun,
stomas smile upward today maybe not tomorrow

I sing my song and hold your hand
from my heart I share my Love
but maybe from my soul tomorrow

If tomorrow never comes

Caretaker

We circle each other asking
with our eyes or posturing;
our language is different
“what’s going on?”

Day in day out
we saunter about
observing in fear, in caution
“where are we?”

We pretend to take charge
we must dominate
over all that surrounds;
curious “why and for what?”

My eyes are open wide
not understanding;
I accept with appreciation
this moment, the Now

The callousness of death
is beyond comprehension;
most is with anguish and cruel
“but why?” Writ of history
speaks of us being
primal and limited
yet we're gifted with choice

“Our purpose?”
perpetuate the mundane
nurturing this gift of life;
caring as a caretaker for
what is of this Earth

tears from afar

Sadden these hearts
suffer such gnarled pain
of young souls sacrificed
to heavens gate

The biblical staff once again
turns the rivers red,
sadly, tiny hands and toes
never to sing the chants
of life’s unforgiving woes

They leave us shackled
to the sense of senseless
wailing curses to God
why, why, how come

Tears run deep
on faces from afar
on the awakening of a demon
walking amidst us all

Little to be reconciled
of this chaos
left in anguish
are the living souls

shadow friend

his back against
cold wet bricks
scoffed tennis shoes
untied
dried blood
a big toe
peers through
empty cold space
all around him

darkness comes
a single light ray
the street lamp
gives him comfort
his shadow
now keeps him company
in quiet discomfort
he smiles at it
it understands him

dreads the light of day
smirks, sneers, stares
thrown his way
replacing the smile
he shares with his
night time friend

my song

I’d like to sing

                  You
    A song;

There!


                 Did you hear it?

    Did you feel it?
　


                The words are in your head


        The melody is in your heart


If you sit quietly

　
you will hear it

               understand

appreciate the melody
 

today and Tomorrow

I cradle this moment with you by my side
Spring has touched us with tender moments
and now giving the same to others
Fall has come and now leaving
laying russets at our feet and in our hair

Soon angel dust shall fall from heaven
a white sheath of coolness shall evince
giving brightness to the dark of night
and all that was obscured will come to light

Limbs of trees shall glisten and glitter
with the waking of the day
and foliage will sparkle with the touch
of tender fingers from the morning sun

Bells and chimes will be heard surreally from afar
the echoed voices of children playing in the snow
shall distract from frozen fingers and toes
and give some joy to those with solemn woes

In this season of celebration
for those of us who have warmth and love
and gives us cause to,
share with those who have not,
today but don’t forget tomorrow

Wish 'Adieu'

Wish I could take your frown
turn it into a smile
could take your pain
and assuage it for a while

Wish I could fill your hunger
with food and drink
take your emptiness
sate it from its brink

Wish your empty heart
could feel the love
you forgot you were given
when mother gave you birth

Wish I could show you
the sunshine as I see it
sprayed onto Blackeyed Susans
between the toes of my naked foot

Wish your sadness disappear
your life has journeyed many a year
and behind the gathering tear
see the light that wanes all fear

Wish your minutes were long
and the hours longer
but the rough winds blew
and now your days are few

Wish when time has come
for your soul to depart
you’ll feel my hand in yours
knowing our hearts never to part

Inspirational Fav's

The Everlasting Things


The everlasting things are these:

The ageless skies and wrinkled seas;

The silvery beacons of the night,

The fickle moon of transient light.

Unresting winds that seldom sleep;

Rocks that eternal silence keep.

Earth's mighty sons, the mountains, stand

Unmindful of Time's withering hand.

Indifferent to the world's brief woes,

The sun, aloof, forever glows.

Though mortals yield to Death's decrees,

God's everlasting things are these.


Evlen G. Beaudry




The fountains mingle with the rivers
the rivers with the oceans
the winds of heaven mix forever
with a sweet emotion.

Nothing in this world is single
all things by a law devine
into one another's being mingle
why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven
and the waves clasp one another
no sister flower would be forgiven
if it disdained it's brother.

And the sunlight grasps the earth
and the moonbeams kiss the sea
what is all this kissing's worth
if thou kiss not me?


PB shelley

A small gift

Today when I put my arms around you
my heart beat feels yours
as we press against each other
and the warmth of my face
next to yours hopefully will suffice
 
My gifts are small
I have not much like others do,
my riches in this world are few
but I can love you with the wealth
of kings and turn your tears
to diamonds with my kisses

I see what others gift
and wonder; if all was lost
would they still have
each other, would their fingers
still intertwine like lovers do
would they still kiss?
 
When strife and sadness comes
and it comes to all
will an embrace be enough
if my pockets are empty
and all I can give
is my heart

And when darkness falls onto my eyes
the riches of my heart
will it have been enough
to keep you for awhile
until another comes
to make you smile

Wer'st

Wer’st I a child born of silver hair
lying on a pillar posted bed
stuffed animals larger than myself
and still much room to spare

Wer’st I a child whose parents care
never raise to me their hand or voice
in the midst of other portentous noise
they’d shelter me in an embracing lair

Wer’st my days not filled with laughter
When we’d walk hand in hand
Through wilderness and sun scape flora
and such fondness ever after

Wer’st this be true my tears my heart
would not labor nor my longings be alone
then love and me
would not be so far apart

Sleep

Darkness in the early morning hours
bring a stream of thoughts
that conjure up the past
and give me pause to question
why the time allotted to me
is filled with such depth of query

If I could sleep
I’d choose the dreams
of all the smiles
and all the joy
that has befallen me
I’d choose the love
that has touched me from
all who have shared in it

My days are long
when sleep hides from
my closed eyes for then
I have those daylight reveries
with real life interspersed
and I see all is much
unlike the dreams I
wish to dream

But then I think of the
wondrousness that has filled
my cornucopia of where
my dreams come from
and then I open my eyes
and let the light in
so that when I sleep again
I will have more to choose

Hear me, feel me

Where did I go wrong
Why do my words no longer
reside with you or your ears
no longer hear me sing to you
Do I no longer capture your
sensibilities your longing
when once there was a smile
when your eyes would meet mine
when once you soothed
that slender and subtle desire
with hidden lust for my touch

Once I could feel your eyes
watch me when I’d walk by
and I could hear your heart beat,
a whimper from a sigh and breath
that scampered rapidly to fill
your empty chest with the
warmth of our bodies scents
as we embraced even for the
slightest of reasons and nothing more

What can I do to capture you
once more if but for a moment
to once again hear my song
carry me in your wings of desire
into that forbidden place where
all around disappears and just you
and me reside in each other’s arms
and as we hug each other tight
the tears that once covered our cheeks
with the sadness of each others absence
once again glisten with joy
in each others presence

See you tomorrow

I’m ascending to a place
where my eyes will see
the colors meant for them
where my soul will dance
with its kind
and my heart will render
up a common beat
to those I’ve witnessed
in my sleep
I lift my voice to cherub song
and my tears once rung from sadness
are now of joy

To those of you who’ve
been my stepping stones
have held my hand when needing it
have given me a walking stick
to climb the challenges before me
I shall sing your praise
and mention your names
so that when it comes time
for you to need a helping hand
to lift you up from the mire of sad
the anchors that weigh you down
in the mundane

There is joy in a common space
open the window and your eyes
breathe in that spirit
that gave you life
and the songs of the cherub
will fill your ears your heart
and raise you up
from the pain and sorrow
and I’ll meet you there
tomorrow

love is an abyss

  I find sometimes now when I walk
I gimp
When I talk or say something
I stutter or misspeak
When I see, I see in different hues
My view of things are unlike yours
But when I care or sense you near me
The depth of caring is endless
And my sense of love
Is boundless

I think, therefore I love

• Pondering
•            Wondering
•    Where have I been
•                Where will I go
•      Is love the link
•  That makes us think
•             Cogito ergo sum
•       Will you still love me tomorrow
•              Will your heart feel my sorrow
•        And when I wake
•                    If I wake
•          Will you take my hand
• Walk this journey on together

in a Rue

Displaced in a common place
faces come to stay for a day or two
for what ever reason of every race
temporal connections in a rue

Most don’t see my face
they don’t ask of who I am
care little of where and why
I’m in this place

I’m curious of them
some I ask where there from
what brings them here
they stare at me in REM

Those that share their anecdote
my selflessness inspired
self indulgent lamentations cease
the mundane no longer rote

This journey rife with challenge
has grown my appreciation
not for things I’ve lost
but for the moments shared
my heart has gained

feliz morning

The crisp dawn’s wet cool
lays a sheath of snowflake art
on the window pane

hovering through the night
as the sleepy moon’s breath
It now lays down to rest

Good morning cackling gaggles
and croaking toads
wake up you jumping crickets
rise from your verdant bed

Give me sounds
to praise my waking
that I too rise another day

Moments Reprieve

I remind myself of seas, green and blue
lighted by only stars and moon
and ospreys cackling in their wake

For streams and brooks that splash
and scurry through as water
soaked shoes squish while chasing
a make believe sailboat, a stick, in the stream

Recall the smiles and laughter of love
surrounding me through sunrise and sunset
singing in harmony with siblings
the songs mamasita taught us

All this while my ears pleasure
in the sounds of tickling nylon strings to
Flamenco/classical on my callused finger tips

This moment, a reprieve in the stead
of temporary tribulations anguished thoughts
or lamenting heart for the mundane things
not in my control

Heart Scorned

Words assembled in a mesh with anger
cut deep like shards of glass
beneath bare feet

They reach their mark
with devastating jagged edges
of intended vitriol

A comportment of the author
evinces from this maelstrom
of darkness

The daggered anger arises
from a heart of scorn
as it exhales

This moment of malaise
discomfit taking place
in lieu of breathing joy

Words chosen carefully
in writ or spoken
gathered with soft edges

fill life’s canvas
with wondrous colors
they treat the eyes and
comfort a heart that’s scorned

Solemnity

In quiet times the fond memories
become embolden and they force
the deep joyous breath escape
from the dormant spaces within

I lift my eyes to the grays
up in the sky capturing sparkling
large drops fall breaking into
tiny sprinkles and ornament
the verdant horizon with glitter

They fall upon my cheek and brow
with the crispness of autumn
showing off its russet and orange dress
and the moon winks late
the sun lies down earlier

Cognizant of how many of these
I’ve witnessed although my body
has begun to show its age
this vision never gets old

If but one more time
I could feel the warmth
of mamasitas embrace
and those siblings and friends
walking softly in the clouds

Gently I say thank you
and am grateful for those
who have open their arms
to fill this temporary solemn space

Shoeless

I’m walking in a space
where loneliness pervades
it screams it’s unheard whispers
where in the midst of daylight
the birds sing on, unknowing
of my presence

When the shale dark of night
abounds and surrounds
with a crispness in its embrace
the pinholes up above now
twinkle and wink but not
knowing that I see them

As I stand alone
with only wet socks on my feet
when I step no one hears
me walking for I have
lost my shoes that once creaked
and others would at least
turn to see where the irritating
sound was coming from

Friends dismiss me now when once
they shared in a smile
now that I no longer
wear shoes like they do
uncaring of how I lost them
in the mire of life
they no longer hear me walking
caring little if that’s all
I might have lost

Family finds a moment
to wish me well
but they too have lost
something in life’s mire
distracted by their wanderings

Somewhere, hopefully, in a drawer
a chamber of their heart
they have for me a dry
pair of socks and when they
remember to offer them
I shall dry mine and give
them to that forgotten soul
sitting in that cold wet corner
forgotten by others but not by me
who knows what
it is to lose one’s shoes

Amigas y Amigos

Will be in 'limbo' for a little while.

Came back from an emotional visit from my wife's parents in Omaha Nebraska
to an unfortunate devastation to our home.

We live in a four floor quad-level home and found the two lower floors totally under water. Pipe burst or something. Much of our technical equipment i.e, tv's computers, dvr's new furniture all floating. It's been two days since we arrived. First twelve hours draining the water. next twelve hours tearing up rugs, carpets wall wood panelling in both floors being ripped out, etc. We will be ok because we are insured but won't find out until today to what extent from our insurance adjuster.

One of my greates losses was that i lost many books that were my most precious possessions along with some collectors vinyl records both classical and r&b, etc.
Lost my hard copy hand written work going back from the 60's, 70's, 80's, 90's that I had started rewriting into disc in my computer for security.

Lost my Alvarez guitar that I've had since my music pursuits in the seventies and most devastating were my old black and white and color pics of my family and mamasita. It's sad but I've got my memories. Hope I can salvage my original birth cerificates and paperwork from Mexico. I think I can replace my naturaliztion paperwork from the US immigration department. You know in this environment, I have to carry it with me when I journey across the states, That's sad in its self.

Staying in a hotel for around two months. Will have access to one of our lap computers so I will check in with all my amigos and amigos as time permits.
Stay in touch, please

Tu amigo Nene

Ciao for now

Starting the day that follows today
I shall be in a sea of red where
the land is known for husking corn
and it’s also the home of a respected human
who in spite of being known as the third
wealthiest individual in the world,
Warren Buffet, has maintained his humanity

I will be in Omaha to visit two elders who have
managed to survive for almost a century in a world
that has devoured, sometimes in a cruel manner,
even the very young. They are,Stewart and Ruth,
the parents of my lovely wife. He a Minister
and Ruth a gentle teacher that has touched many
a young mind and has played her melodious violin
strings for the pleasure of many an ear.
I am in awe of both of these sages in my eyes.
He, a six foot three presence, who has written many
sermons that possibly directed many souls toward
a path that maybe they may not have realized.
I imagine all the Sunday ears and possibly souls
his words have possibly inspired.
Ruth, all of four foot eight in stature with gentle
and softness of demeanor, whose teachings has
expanded the universe to many a youth.
Youth, being a relative term being she’s
survived nearly a century. She‘s taught English
and music as her discipline of studies yet her
gentleness and human soft whispers have woven
the souls to the possibilities of giving, perpetuating good.
I hope in my visit with them some of their wisdom
will permeate my soul and will give me inspiration
to share with all of you.
I shall be back to prick your souls and meld your hearts
See you soon, mi amigas, mi amigos!

Love/Forgiveness

In the soft and kind
chamber of your heart
will you forgive me
for I may not have said
the words you wish
nor kissed your cheek
when needed

Will you store within
the warmth of my breath
when we embraced
and the whispers that I
lay upon your ear
and pulled the bow
of violin strings
that soothed your needs
when they need be felt

If their be a fiber
that love is made from
let my sewing, my knitting
be the hand that weaves it

And when we are apart
you may hold it in your hand
caress it near your chest
where that soft and kind
chamber remembers me

Upon the knitted edges
of your heart you will then
say: ‘I forgive thee’

It is said: If but little you give,
much will be received

Friend

When we smile into each other’s eyes
and we gather the full moon into
the memory of our hearts
we sense each other’s
touch when we had embraced
the time the moment

Did we not share, maybe,
something that was not someone
else’s and did we not agree
that this moment would be ours

Could we say, without saying,
you are me and I am you
could we look onto this moon
and know it stared upon our moment
and no one else’s

If tomorrow I shall peer upward
to the sky and see the face
that peered upon us naked
when we thought we were
alone, our hearts denuded
from the ugliness of judgment

And all this is, is friendship
Imagine if love was involved

Life's ebb tide

we’ve ridden it’s crests
together on separate boards
occasionally wiping out
yet getting back on
‘cutting’ high and low waves

we stand
on the beach head
waiting for the next
wave then back on again,
surf’s up

aching from spills
I’ve taken,
some worse than others
almost drowning from
a couple but there
you were handing
me my board

we jump on together
and kiss the sea, on
we go as the sun’s fire
dips behind us
into the
ocean’s bed

we then lay our heads
on it’s sandy pillow
our boards as beds
listening to the seas roar
diminish to intermittent whispers

there we lie sated
from riding the wakes
the swales and the
rolling caps
and the moon beams
glisten on the sea

Once More

don’t know how long
i shall awaken upon this earth
how many more steps
i shall walk in this world

how many mornings shall
greet me with glorious fury
or starry nights shall tickle
my fancy with wishes

if i can but once more
sit at the base of
the Rocky Mountains
and waggle my naked feet
and hands on pristine streams

i’d like to once again
see visions of the ocean's vastness
and their black of night
listen to the osprey and seagulls cawings
and the deep water fin fare

can i once more
touch the hand of naïve love
where only the gleam in the eyes
and that silent smile of desire
embracing two, yet,
uncontaminated hearts

listen to the violins
that Mozart commanded
titillating keys of Chopin and Liszt
voices of Lanza and Groban, Streisand
and Whitney, Nat King Cole and Vandross

inscribe on my epitaph some words
of Shakespeare, Shelley, Emily,
who would be read by passersby
and maybe by chance would look
upon my headstone and ask
'who was he and why'?

In Breath, Only

Our eyes meet
our face cheeks
come close
without touch
our breath intertwines
our body’s temperature
emit vapors that intermingle

Silence is our
common space
our bodies part
like two Flamenco dancers
without touch
yet our fingertips
come close

Social norm disallows
we’re both each
committed to another
desire and lust
evinces its
forbidden face
so we slowly
walk away

Maybe in
an ethereal place
or even in
the Nether
our temptations
may dance
Until then
our beings mingle
still only in breath

Journey

My quest
to learn how to see
how to feel
when to smile
and when to cry

The maiz grows tall
when rain falls
so to the flowers
and the birds
fly into it to refresh

The sun rises
because the earth turns
the day rises
as the night sleeps
Hate and dispair appears
when love is absent

My ears can hear
when my soul
is quiet
music can be heard
along with the ocean rush

My journey
is just beginning
“…and the sunlight grasps
the earth and the moon beams
kiss the sea,
what is all this kissing’s worth
if thou kiss not me?” (P.B.Shelley)

'The' Past

The wind blows
the russet leaves
fall from trees, early,
they dance with
the wind

The rain is heralded
by brittle arboreal limbs
they cry out in creaks of
anguished thirst and
crisp golden grasses
await their turn to drink

The grey smoke from
steel pipes of ant like
trails of smog
paints the sky testing
nature’s breath
changing Earth’s attire

The ocean waters
rant and rave
bringing torrents to
wash their terra firma skin
of grime left from
the uncaring human hand

The one legged toads
scurry to survive
amidst the contaminated
pharmaceutical laden lakes
and streams, lead heavy
nutriment that reside in
the seas now fill the bellies
of our children

The daylight has narrowed
sunlight has less time
to feed the verdant dress
and the corn that feeds
and the night
awaits to fill its space
our children will learn
to play in the dark

Care to Listen

If I did not speak of
the burdens of pain
little attention would
be given to caring

Judge me not for taking
on this challenge
a volitional choice
in spite of the slings
that may come my way

If our eyes do not behold
that which brings sadden tears
beauty would be indiscernible
their would be no caring

If one does not extend
one’s hand to lift another
one would be blind
and fall

If one does not listen
to the beating of a drum
one will not understand
the mellifluousness of melody

With what the heart is filled
one will not feel
if it does not let love in
their would be no caring

Daisy Day

The summer days,
quickly, they now come and go

In time
the years
grow in numbers
their faces
go dim

A daisy is born
its given attention
its freshness and youth
is witnessed by its peers
that came before

It grows along side others
the uniqueness,
distinction
now
fades


Its
pedals
now wilting
no longer giving
youthful pleasure
in the eyes
of the others

Or the others
have made judgment
that it will no longer
be viewed in the same

Whatever the reason
no one’s judgment
can take from it
the nature of
its unique intrinsic beauty

Not even time
will take away the
imprint of its soul
left in life’s canvass

Another Day

My eyes opened this morning
some dreams still half finished
it was a little before the first waking
birds began to yawn with their
morning vocal callings
their whistles, tweets and chirps

My body stayed still
until the synapses
charged it to move
toward the window pane
wanting the eyes to take pleasure
in the beginnings of the day

This day shall bring cherished moments
memories that will fit in
the already crowded pocket
of my life’s chemise
that wears the timber
of love on its sleeves
and warms the tears of my heart

I beckon for the good to prevail
the caring to raise up from
its slumber
sing to me songbird
and the sun give birth to
the flower and the rain
rinse the sadness away
my eyes open
to another day

Inspiration of Rain

My inspiration comes from rain
in spite of love and kisses
that have eerily waned
it seems to rinse away
the pain

The constant tiny crackling
falling and slapping leaves of trees
the sound of water running from
high points on base of trees
gullies of pine needles and leaves

Robins and cowbirds flail their wings
in saturated places pleasure overcomes
they’ve awaited this refreshing rain
amidst the drought of sun baked grasses
the hot and arid days

Corn leaves crumbling in farmers hands
livestock nibbling on what they can
brush and forests burning homes
they’re painting the night sky’s
in crimson and gold

I join the cowbirds and robins
flailing my arms to the sky
I Pray to Tlaloc, the god of rain
please bring your sponge clouds overhead
or the children of earth
will no longer be fed

Reading Tea Leaves

As I sip my tea
at the bottom of the cup
are tea leaves
I try to read them
but I cannot interpret
I run my finger tips on the veins
of their skin trying to feel
the life that runs through them
assimilating with the life in mine
thinking I might feel something
yet left still with an emptiness
I stand up to inhale the
the breath of life around me
wondering if this will
sate my sensorial vats
the vacuum that surrounds me,
thinking it will explain to me
my relevance, fill me
with knowledge and understanding
of why I’m here and how does this space
I'm filling where I stand affects that
which came before me and
how it will affect he or she
that will soon replace me
when I’m gone?
I stand here alone,
breathing in, wondering

a leaf moment

Once its veins full with chlorophyll
holding strong on it’s limb
the beating rain tickles
on its belly and dances
in its glittering gown
grasps tightly to the limbs hand
against the swales of wind
and winged giants come
and sit upon its chest
yet it holds on and flutters
and waves when its feathered
friend flies onto another
the warm and sometimes
hot sun scorches its face
but soon the coolness of the moon
lets it sleep quietly
and in the morning comes
another frenzied day

Now rusted and weak
a soft breeze catches its cheek
it lets go of its once strong hold
silently it floats down and rests
upon the lap of sinuous
grasses that for whom it once
provided shade and now it lays
its furled body on a golden field
that wears miniature rainbows
from a morning dew
sleeping now in unrequited attention
with a smile on its crested face
its fulfilled the cycle of life
now food for Mother earth
no less important than
the caterpillar and butterfly
I understand and praise
its short sojourn

Stillness

Stillness, how loud it is
its quiet screams of yesteryears
while hovering over joy yet
embraces desolate space
where pain resides and tears
flow like rapids in deep rivers

Stillness forces time to slow
yet aging is in the forefront
and the eyes when not closed
see the dark spots on the hands
between the crevices of life’s folds
the aches of labored past reside
when planting beds with mother and
now they grow where she rests

Stillness, it coddles love’s caress
where moments of gentle kiss
and warm breast pressed upon
my chest and her softness tantalizes
my finger tips as she screams
in loving yet lustful pleasure
when they tiptoe between her hips

Stillness lets music pleasure my ears
listening to songs from crooners in my day
and reminiscent melodies that inspired
my choice and desire to live when
all around me was destruction, pillage and death
losing faith in humankind

Stillness has found its abode
within me today for I choose to listen
to its praise hearing the birds sing,
seeing this mornings sun rise
while Jules and Jaz lay at my feet,
grateful, I awoke from my last night's sleep

I Hearken Stillness

The stillness is calming
the clouds have slowed their pace
the sun has not yet
shut its eyes
but the moon is ironically
yawning for its awakening

The days wet heat has begun
to succumb to the breath of
the evening air and the songs
of crickets and cicadas
have replaced the harmonies
of the wren, the cardinal and the blue jay

The white cotton patches slithering up high
have begun to reflect a crimson rouge
from the suns sleepy eyes
and the day has become
the evening where it lies back
and it rests

The calm is ethereal unlike
not too far from here
an angry Nature’s wrath has
woven an ugly arboreal
display upon earth’s chest

A State of Mind

Three weeks have passed and so to
have three friends and acquaintances
ne’r since 1971 have I shown up for these
traditional ’howling’ exercises seemingly
consoling those who have not departed

Not insensitive nor wanting to be
a downer but I wish to remember
these interlopers into my life
as fond human exchanges of faces
with smiles and not stuffed encases

But they come and they go
so quickly down my road
some say hi and stay awhile
and some just prick me with
their style and their smile

Mortality has poked me
with its long dark staff as I
observe those with saddened tears
of anguish and loss, dressed in
their own destined attire

Unlike most, instead of ‘folding within
like a flower sleeping at the end
of it’s season’ this refreshes my cognition,
regenerates my verve, awakens me
like that flower ’ leaving a little room
to start again’.

So when my eyes’ turn to close
let me go gently in the night
and I wish for you to sleep
knowing in the morning
awaits you a new sunrise

‘youth is wasted on the young’

Como un lobo

‘Como un lobo‘, I walk quietly
carefully, strolling so as not to disturb
life that seeks refuge from underneath
my every step

My ears are perked to be keen
for every sound that may
want to speak to me
sharing with me its own journey

In this sojourn I gather nuts
consume that which nature
provides just for sustenance
and go about my path

I stop in clearings
observe the path I’ve walked
and the journey before me
then I saunter on

Sometimes I go off road
but it matters not for whatever
path and steps I take
it is the path destined to me

From where I’ve been I’ve gathered
things that I like and those which I love,
many which I wish to keep, to hoard,
thinking they belong to me

Introspection, I recognize that when I started
on this path I had only what is 'me'
nothing less and nothing more
just my ears, my eyes, my heart

I howl at the moon, at the stars
for the light they’ve provided me
yet I lament for those things I’ve loved
but cannot take with me

I’ve now learned to walk at a slower pace
so that time does not rush me
and I take pleasure for that which
my eyes have seen, my ears have heard
my heart has shared, I howl

Sedentary Eyes

Erstwhile the numbers have grown
in the days and years behind me
the keenness of my attention
to every moment and every
sunrise and sunset has been honed
by the wind and sand not unlike
the promontories on sea shores
having seen much while hailing the winds
and have been relentlessly accosted
by the ocean’s slappings from ebbs and flows

But seemingly stable standing on shore
sedimentary accrues being sedentary,
it has no choice. I, though,
do have a choice as I capture
visions that pull the threads
of my passions, tug the strings of my heart,
displaying the weakness of my conviction
to convention of social norms, traditions
and morals, whilst my eyes pleasure in
the diversity of beauty, I fear shutting
them for they may not open again

Circus Mirror

Lamenting, I recall on what I saw today
in the reflection of the stores glass display
t’was my aging deteriorating
now paunchy carcass that encases
my life’s unrequited heart in place
while it dances with it’s shadow, my soul

It saddened me and also scared me
how could this be me when my mind,
my thoughts still ride the young pony
amidst childhood fields of wind blown
grasses and daffodils, pretty ladies
in their summer dresses
for my still youthful eyes to behold

Not often do I see myself this way
through someone else’s eyes
I know my aches my pains
now halt my running with the deer
or chasing after wondrous butterflies
yet still I see myself through my wife’s
loving eyes and not the reflection
that I recall of what must have been
a circus mirror in the store’s display

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Alone, Sonata no. 1

Although the day has been
wonderfully full of the suns touch
the flapping and scurrying
of life all around me outside
gives me joy yet I’m anguished
of the humans around me
seemingly not Caring for each other

Tonight my sleep is restless
seems darker, absent of space
I look around and witness
that I’m in my domicile
yet I feel empty of presence
unrecognized by that which
surrounds me

My chest, not a ‘Tell Tale Heart‘,
feels a dull constant ache
my left kidney a sharp stabbing
the ticking of the clock above
my recliner where I sleep
is relentlessly reminding me of time

Music is present in my ears
Ah, Ludwig and Amadeus
sprinkle into my ears, piano sonata no.1
so soothing, calming my angst
in the absence of self
the soft tickling keys a reminder
of self cognition in this realm
of lonely recognition

The Smile of Spring Rain

the rain that falls from the sky
it can not change it’s mind
once it begins it’s dissent
it must reach it’s destination
whether it falls atop a mountain
or on leaves of trees
or back in the mother sea
these rain drops do not speak
of what ocean they come from
nor where their spirit goes
once they cleanse all that they touch
if only they could whisper their secrets
of how their journey began
and how it feels when riding the wind
while in the world of Spring where upon
the pedals of daisies and daffodils
roses and lilies they put glistening smiles
for all to see

No Laughter in Houla

Laughter what is it worth
if it does not ride the eternal tide of joy

What is calm and contentment worth
if they are not sated by the taste
of universal peace

In Houla, tiny toads cannot be heard croaking
after a refreshing early morning rain
by the tiny ears of buried carcasses

Avian songs cannot be heard
from the raining of hell bombs falling
on Syrian streets by Bashar Asaad’s regime

This morning, here, we will watch
tiny earth worms crawling out
after a much needed rain

hearing a choir of our friends
in joyous song in our early morning rise,
morph voices, the children of Houla

Love Me When I'm Gone

Run run
Walk walk
Stop and stare
Wonder how will I end
Where shall I be
When my time ends
But will those that knew me
Hold me still


If I love enough
Shall my memory live on
In the eyes, in the ears, in the heart
Where shall I sit
Whose ears shall hear my song
When I’m gone
Whose eyes shall read my words
Will I someday make someone’s heart cry

Love love that’s all I can do
This is all I can give
Will you remember me
Sometime
Somewhere
Will you hear my whispers
Wipe away my tears
Spread your arms
Spread your legs for me
Love me when I’m gone

Dia de Mamasita

The other day I read a heartfelt story
about a mother who’s struggle
rendered her to the pandering
of a society who diminishes
her gender let alone her ethnicity

She held her own through the days
of toil searching for sustenance
for herself and her children
and the tear filled nights
that the day had sustained
yet the fear of tomorrows comings

They took away her pride
they took away her beauty
that a young woman holds dear
but they could not take away
the love she had for her children

as she fought the haunting of aging
though sacrificing her time of her
heralded youth for the sake of her children
the tiny wrinkle webs in her face
began to harbor the days of yore
and her youthful days sent asunder

Her days were long
and her nights even longer
but throughout she can be proud
she will always be beautiful
in my eyes my heart
she will always be loved

Te amo, mi Mamasita

Destitude Eyes

There’s a destitute in mine eyes,
I’ve felt in my heart
The days of yore have come
to haunt me
The emptiness, the unfulfilled
Loved the fun
As a child not understanding
the angst or depression,
not knowing love
only capturing the moment's
journey and its effects of
temporary joy or the pain
of falling scraping my hands
on the concrete pavement while playing
I recall, so poignantly, laying in bed
with the lights off, crying
I didn’t know why my tears
incessantly flowed but I
cried and cried and cried
I wanted so much to be loved but
I didn’t know if I had or have been
or I have loved. The days and years
have gone by so quickly without
enough embraces, enough hugs
I'm thinking it’s from my childhood
wishes, now in reflection, for how
I felt so much emptiness when
others always seem to have so much
Then as I grew older and more
was made available to me
I squandered the riches provided only
because all I now wanted was to have fun
Fun that I didn’t have when younger
I squandered my moments with family,
moments with friends just so
I could go and have fun
Never though did this fun fill that
emptiness, that loneliness,
that feeling of being alone
As time pressed on, money, sex, cars
drink, food, all these things couldn’t fill the void
and still, they don’t. I'm still trying to learn to love
to find value in my life wanting to find
something, something that’s been missing
since my childhood. Our biological father leaving
'mamasita' and us all alone. Alone before I knew
if  I would be, or could be loved

Summer's Embrace

The warm breath of a summers day
like a wet kiss embraced the day
the pedals of the flowers glistened
in prismatic joy as the sun
scurried across the veiled azure sky

Birds flocked to the bird baths
three in the back yard
two in the front wildly playing tag
from one to the other
the fountain towel hooks were full
of feathered towels as they bathed
in the fountain on my back patio

Four or five furry lucky tails tumbled
out from underneath the pine scampering
in a hop the smaller ones so much faster
then come a spray of chippies
chasing each other oh so quickly
across yards and streets as bikers
tried to avoid their array of play

and people walking their canine children
showing their new summer cuts
joggers trying to shed that winter coat
of fancied cookies and turkey sandwiches
young ladies and their pretty legs
men in cut-offs both shirts and shorts

Ah, the summer’s embrace has
wrapped its arms around the day

Space and Time

I reside in a space where
there are no walls no borders
a nebulous grey in this space
no end just the awareness
of it’s existence

in this space
reside also the colors
blue for the sky
the verdant foliage
red the blood that flows
through those that soar
and their land based cousins

We all breathe the air
and eat the berries
the sun hovers o’er
giving verve to all of us
none better than
the other

our species who reads and writes
believe that we know more
yet when we question
our knowledge relative to
the realm of the all
we realize we know little

knowledge is imagination
its the keeper of life
it creates rather than
destroys yet we're a
destructive species
so what do we know

all that exists is equal
relying on each other
our value is relative to
our co-existence
with all life

we all exist
amidst the nebulae
of black and grey
the sum of all colors
and the calculus of all

Love The One Your With

Soulful voices pervade the wind
a quiet solemnity, cogitating
the where we have been
and where we’ll soon be

Whispers hover like grey clouds,
like morning fog or the never dissipating
mist in the forest creating a sobering
portentousness, a disconcert

The morning arrives in yellow
gold horizons as a symphony of song
gives praise by an aviary choir
for one more day

Curious we wait for the fulfillment
of Proverbs, to new beginnings
of a new world by the awakening
of the old

In every voice I hear
there is an unspoken fear
that our world will end
with much regret

We didn’t care enough
we fought too much
we didn’t share enough
we didn’t love the way
we should have

If time is soon to cease
of how we know it
we still have a choice to make
of how to spend it

Will we embrace
our common good
or will we push away
the dream filled nights
the sunny days?

"eyes wide open"

Wide open, my eyes came to be
yesterday
my heart beat quickened
as if I had just ran a mile,
my breath stoking, choking
holding back 'man' tears

I noticed my friend's
long time biker gal sitting
next to a sparsely haired, frail
looking gentleman, thinking her dad,
approached her to say hi
this gentlemans's shaky hand with folds
of leathery jaundiced colored skin,
reached out and touched my arm
I  turned, I was looking into the eyes
of my friend

Just but a few months ago
he’d stand six feet three inches
two hundred and eighty pounds
he gingerly stands to hug me
he’s six foot at most while hunched
now only at one hundred and twenty and
his arms once the size of my thighs,
skeletal limbs of hanging yellow skin
embrace me, now

I was invited to support a Cancer fund raiser
unsuspecting it for my friend who but
two months ago he'd saddle a Harley ‘Fatboy’
which looked like a child’s bike strattled
between his large thighs,
a Budweiser in his hand miniturized
like a small concentrated juice can,
poignantly, a noticable slight brown stain drips
from his lip down his chin from his 'chew'
underneath his puffed lower lip

We smiled, knowingly one last hug, our eyes met
and I whispered " your God will smile on you"
I walked away, breathless, saddened,
my wife’s hand tightly in mine
knowing this donation was for him,
but the contribution of this moment
is a lasting one for so many more

Sadly Waiting

Spring arrived
with it’s glorious
sun dress

Winter became enraged
it had not packed
its vitriol reappeared

Its grey attire
veiled the sky
once again
breathing cold


My emotions
ride the sails on
high and low tides

The lovely pink
crab apple trees
cover their smiles

Until the winter grey
no longer cloud the day
we’ll sit sadly
in wait

Empty Eyes

When she sat alone
in that time and space
where only she filled,
was it empty, was it dark

All I could see
were her empty eyes
she’d stare my way
I didn’t know if I
was a tree or me

I’d touch her hand
she’d look to see
and left me wondering
if she could feel my pulse
coming from my heart

So careful was I not
to let her see my tears
while remembering all
our loving years
maybe I should have

When her incarnate shell
finally gave way to the earth
my thoughts wandered
and I questioned

When and how was the
last time she saw me
did she last know
how much I love her
did she remember
her son holding her hand

Fuck you Alzheimer's

Dream of Dreaming

Dreams; do they come to those that are homeless
in their card board boxes, in their tents
constantly rustling about in their sleep,
their overalls or trousers stiff and crested with
dried dampness from either self infliction
or the overnight dew that at one time
would have been a pleasurable waft
in the early morning rise

If they dream, do they dream
about childhood pleasures
like running and playing in back yards
parents smiles and siblings chasing,
swings and slides?

Do they dream about warmth
in beds under fresh with sheets and
blankets embroidered by mothers,
pleasant aromas coming from
kitchens, mama's pies, belly sated,
then sitting out in the patio or
taking for walks Ben or Ruffy or Lady

Do they dream of those things
we have so readily in hand,
embraced with comfort and love
and sometimes forget of these
small pleasures that to them
are dreams of dreamings?

Hug a Friend

She’s the quiet of the two
she could say many things with authority
because she's erudite with Masters of Law
Husband, Attorney at Law
is the gregarious one (surprise)
Her quiet was broken the other day
when told her one breast was harboring
the demon all women dread
She remains quiet but in that
silence, in that quiet stillness,
she screams in frazzled fear
I hug my friend

'good morning'

I step outside in the very early morn,
the moon is giving me a departing wink,
Venus and Mars are giving a sleepy yawn,
a diminishing glitter before they too
cover themselves under their daylight blanket

The still dark air gently pricks my skin
with a soothing cool, standing barefoot,
bare chest and in night time ‘skibbys’
awaiting to hear the morning rustling of
winged friends and their waking chorus,
the alarm for the 'sol'

My breath goes deep, as deep as I can,
making it a memory, a moment,
so when I depart this mundane nest
I shall recall this morning wake
giving praise for this gift

With this grateful beginning
I commit today to give
with thought and word,
open my hand to those that need it
with non-perishables, unused clothes

My means are nominal in earthen ware
but my spirit is nimble my heart does care
they embody health and willingness
to give, to share, it’s heartfelt beat
with whomever or whatever accepts
the selfless crumbs I lay
at their feet

skinned alive

blow on me wind
take away yesterday’s skin
and if you cannot blow hard enough
cool me a breeze
so that I may stare into the sun
until the moon offers me the night
and I shall walk into the dark

Being 'daddy'

If I would have had a daughter
could have learned to tie pigtails
wash her tiny feet, tuck her under
the warmth of her own bed blanket
given her that soft and gentle
daddy's kiss, ‘everything is going to be ok’

we might have found her some cockle shells
on the white sands of the beach
listened to the music that resides
inside the large snail shell
where angels store their songs

walk home her holding my finger, tiny hand
after a long arduous playful day
she waits for me on the porch swing
as I warm her milk and two cookies
we sit admiring the petrified stick she found
looks like a serpent from underneath the sea
and 'ooh, look at this sparkly stone, daddy'

I might have been a good daddy
to a daughter or son, sharing
the value of selflessness
Mother’s inspiration of love
who filled a void of an unknown father
showing me that their's great strength
in gentle smiles, in caring and giving,
in lieu of the male paradigm,
that gives credence to selfishness,
physical aggression, loud and domineering

thanks to maternal love
the influence of 'the gentle touch'
when a voice is spoken softly
and the soul is calm
the mind makes better choices
I think I could have been
a good 'daddy'

The Light

I gather in mind
towering personas, icons,
recalled in history,
their voice and song,
canvas and brush,
or writ of word,
they dissipate into
darken space until
memory serves
onto its appetite

Where do their
tunes and paintings,
where does their
poetry reside
when not in
the forefront of
the minds eye…
are they still riding
Life‘s waves into
the sea of darkness
upon that bending
light of spatial relativity
“where have all
the flowers gone,
long time passing?”

Soon, this soul
temporarily encased and
that harbors music and poetry
having saddled through
days of storms and
ridden in a luminescent night,
shall ride the light
through outer space
amidst the stars
that once heard John Lennon’s
sing his ‘Yesterday’
Shakespeare reading his
prose and Ludwig charming
crowds with his finger tips
upon the ivory’s

My spirit calms
as it pushes aside
hanging vines swinging
from tops of descendent
arboreal growth where
also caws echo through
a paradisiacal brush
as I catch a glimpse
of a curvaceous
female form playfully
searching for a playmate,
a light follows her
with the same radiance
I witness as I close my eyes
the one and same
my soul now rides upon,
traversing the universe
seeking its destiny,
that ‘somewhere over the rainbow’
or that ‘wishing star’,
hoping to see my mother
embracing joy and that
Omniscient love we’ve
sought ‘forever more’

"it is what it is"

My heart is hurting today
it may be selfish, some is selfless
lamenting about my life
how day’s gone by so quickly
my losses deeply felt of those I love
the pains and angst, the toils
of Mother’s journey
in giving us life
bringing us to a country
that dismissed us so readily
and now selfishly, I dwell upon
my diminished accomplishments
and how wasteful of time,
I’ve been

At the same time I’m cognizant
of those children in a baron land,
alone, their parents taken from them
either by famine or shells of fire
raining down upon them, excoriating
any existence of life’s growth
in the ground of their harried home,
where they sit alone without love,
without warm embraces,
never to know about ‘having’ or
not ‘having’,
and their tears no longer flow,
their body deplete of water,
their heart broken, no one
seemingly cares

I see an ant scurrying aloofly,
can’t get myself to stomp on it,
also my wife derides my inability to
use a fly swatter and cringes when
I catch them in flight releasing
them outside along with the moths
that smile at me when I open my
screen door to go out and visit
the aviary I’ve created, an abundance
of bird feeders and perches accumulated
and placed logistically so that I can walk
bare foot across my yard in mornings
providing my winged and terestrial
friends daily sustenance while
my two mini-poodles, Jules and Jaz,
nibble at my heels for they, too, enjoy
our morning’s paradise walk

Juxataposed, this very moment, soldiers
traverse foreign terrain with daggered
eyes following their every step,
beeds sweated fear under their fatigues
while finger on the trigger of the m16
at ready, ready to deploy death upon
unknown faces of ‘big’ and ‘little’ people
age is of no consideration to consequence,
only knowing he, our soldier, is in their
homeland and they wish to extricate
him through fear and death so he walks
softly, carefully, not to break the
eggshells underneath his every step
that may send him to his God
or back home lying next
to a buddy sharing stories
of where they lost their arm,
their leg, their other buddy,
commiserating how their family
of wife and children no longer in tact,
nor brother and sister, mother and father,
friends who don't understand
and a government, surreptitiosly,
has sent them to this hell

The black and white chickadees
tilt their tiny heads at me with a wink,
a tweet, the dark winged and rusty
robins are back, male cardinals
flaunt bright crimson attire
battling for feeders with blue jays
and starlings, taking turns
at the bird baths while unabashedly
bathing in front of others and now
I feel like St. Francis of Assisi
as I stroll back inside to finish my
toast with marmalade to sit
on my comfort chair and once again
live vicariously through my thoughts,
my words and that damn picture box
with audio carrying my emotions into
the tyranny whose worlds vary in ideologies,
philosophies, religiosities, and all
believing their’s, to be the ’one’.

“it is what it is”

Applause, Applause

‘Death’
applauded so readily
while curtains still open
this act has not finished
still many lines yet to speak
projecting with my own theatrics
upon an audience living vicarious lives
they’re standing in anticipation
longing to applaud in ovation
for my last act to finish and
for the curtains to close

Some of my co-thespians
have acted their roles
they’ve spoken their lines
have walked behind the curtains
some have even left the stage
waiting in the dressing room,
and like the audience,
await my last act, my ending lines
then we can all remove our makeup,
our costumes, walk away
from the stage, the theater
awaiting the next script,
written by an omniscient author,
to perform our next roles

One?

Love
You’ve shown me
your many faces
in many ways
as there are days,
not limited only
through conscience
of heart
You’ve arisen with me
since my eyes
have seen,
and nose
has smelled,
since my hands
have held
You’ve come to me
in moon light
in crimson horizons
lying side by side
with the ocean bed
You've sung to me
through wind and
mellifluous sounds
of throats with beaks
You shared your
breath of life
in the womb
where I awaken,
whence then showing me
how to care,
to be selfless
to Love
Sometimes I wonder;
before the Christian
visited
my Aztec land
many iconic symbols
and faces resided
in my home
had breathed
Your air
curious how since
your visit
of only One,
is spoken
it's writ in books
with different names
sharing you has
become, uniquely, limited
To be true,
I’ve seen your
many faces
all breathing in
the likes of You

3am

3am, in the moon lighted air
the coolness breathed in
the head tilts looking upward
tiny blinking eyes on me
my humanness passionately desires
to absorb and be let in, assimilated,
into the oneness
of this moment

as the sun sleeps
silence resounds, quiet abounds
the ears of the leaves
still left on the trees
their slighted shadows dance
cast by the moon
they play with the night wind
knowing farewell, I stand here

this moment placed in a compartment
deeply folded in my soul
so when the sun once again rises
the bedded voices reawaken
speaking loudly to each other
forgetting our short time gifted
I will reach into this saved folding
regaining a quiet moment
oh, so quickly forgotten, forlorn

Wonder

Looking up I wonder,
an osprey doesn’t see me coming
my footsteps quiet in the sand
watching him tilt his head
at the sea below
gravity beckons
wings by his side
the single sheath of blue
leaving small white edges
turns then rises
a tiny splash sprouts up
in his talons floundering
unbeknown to my eyes
it was swimming there near me
snatched, no wake, no displacement
the ocean kindly waving
that’s when I wonder
in the grasp of an angel's wing
when my soul is snatched
from its incarnate being
will it leave no displacement
or even a wake
to the mundane expanse
in the sea of life.

Bending, Still Standing

At the edge of my becoming
I'm like a bending stem
of a daisy at the end of Fall
before it's white petals
wilt and drop
hereto I still proudly stand

Would like to think
my stamens will perpetuate
something of me
if not my petals
at least my color
and strength of stem

I’ve stood here for my
designated time
let the wind blow me
side to side
other species have stepped on me
stolen my pollen
but that’s the way
of a daisy it should be

So much I’ve seen
while standing here
how tall I’ve grown
the elements of life
have changed my color
some things I did not
understand but I accepted
it, allowing the sun and
the wind to do it’s thing

Today some of my petals
have begun wilting
none have yet fallen off
but soon to be covered in
loam at the feet of another
hopefully I will become
part of new growth

LQQking Glass

Washed my face this morning
The cool water dried
In the looking glass
my mother’s face appeared

Eros: Leave the lights off

Leave the lights off
so I can see you
with my nose
your sent will direct me
to the softness of your
breasts so wonderfully
caressing the sides of my
face, my cheeks

Leave the lights off
so that my finger tips
will be forced to be
gentle with their touch
as they search carefully
around the curves

they will touch tenderly
the brow, the slope of your nose
they will skirt the edges
of your ear lobes then come
down to rest upon
the succulence of your lips
the orifice that kisses
and breathes warm air
into me

Leave the lights off
so that my hands will
ride the sides of your arms
down to where the
wonderment where
my head now rests
upon lovely, lovely breasts

Leave the lights off
so that my finger tips
titillate the pinnacles
of these lovely bosoms
oh, feel them rise
growing reaching up
craving more of my touch

then as you arch
your lower back up
my hand slides toward
a sensitivity causing flutter
wantonly uncontrollably
just underneath the 'inny'
resonating vibrating with desire

Leave the lights off
for I think I have found
soft fibers of hormonal growth
in between the warmth of my
finger tips caressing the now
sweet moistness
slow, faster, you tell me
my sensual search
should it stop

Leave the lights off
and whisper in my ear
if you wish to journey
once again with me
in the dark

Sunday's Conviction

Looking out the window
this day of the week
see neighbor’s children’s
polished shoes on their feet
father and mother in their
best pressed clothes
scurry into the car
to meet with others
where they worship
their icons and deity
and embrace each other
this one day of the week

Monday comes, they fall
into a dark human abyss
with Tuesday fogging
that church going bliss
Wednesday’s and Thursday’s
forgot the lectern sermon
preached about brotherhood
Friday arrives Saturdays
follow,
the Christian words cantored
now seem hypocritically
hollow

Love's Cradle

wish to be cradled
by the arms of love
as once they did
pure and innocent
without conspiracies, no assumptions,
unconditional

to be loved and
me to love
the way I fantasize
Love to be
Mary and Jesus
Romeo and Juliet

where my mind, my heart
can escape if
but for a moment
as a guest of the spirits
that understand

Life as I know it
does not cater to such
fantasies
it teases with a paradigm
sketched of ‘smiling tears’
occasional contented joys

soon erased by
what Life beholds
extinguishing the smiles
with pains and sufferings
the fears of loss and death
the truth of tears

but if it could
once again
hold my hand
as if
to understand
and by chance there is no
Heaven at least
I will have been
embraced by Love

Wish List

When I think of money
and those that have so much
I wish I had more
I see one drive a nice car
I envy and wish I had a red one
When I see a large beautiful home
I picture myself in one
built with terracotta floors
mud and straw adobe walls
But then I think
if I had all this
I would be in the car
driving away from you
If we lived in that large house
we would be separated in
different rooms
and the money, oh yes the money
well the money couldn’t
buy me you

That Day in June

Remember that day in June
when our tongues
had shared in the tickle
of the drops we collected
from the cool drizzle
of the afternoons delight

Our faces raised upward
laying on the embankment
of that river who had also
shared our first kiss
locking our hearts
that day in Spring

Remember we giggled
when that toad burped
excuse me, I said
and the stream of water
sang over stones and sticks
from around the bend

We laid there supine
for that moment of innocence
when all was fine
our harried cares and worries
were carried away
by that Monarch miracle
in its gossamer wings

That day is remembered
tendered by the gentle
heartbeat in that secret
chamber of my heart
where it stores
that lovely day in June

Tortillas Replace Forks

My toes are crooked
fingers broken
painful arthritis
fills my hips and back

Roll off the bed
when I wake
struggle to raise my body
feel like the walking dead

Reach tools are
logistically placed
to put on socks
shoes with no lace
my days bring challenges
trying to save face

I can no longer use
a fork or spoon
let alone a knife
I eat with my
fingers and hands
tortillas serve me well

Feels good the earth
underneath bare feet
in lieu of a grunt
I choose to smile
helps me forget my pain
for a little while

I now sleep upright
in my recliner
no more stuffy nose
or waking my wife
with my snore
lumbar vibrator and heat
restful and soothing sleep

I've made Time my friend
my activities slightly revised
seemingly clearer are things
and more appreciated
when life moves slower

aging is Life's constant
like 'change' is to the universe
so I accept, adjust, advance
slower but with a smile
barefooted with my tortilla
in hand.


sending one's health
into demise

Thank you Gabby

A flower
whose radiance
and waft of sweet
altruistic scent
abounds
sacrifices through
inclement exposure
risking animus
and the ire of weeds
who try to choke
the growth of
her refreshing petals
that kissed the hand
of life and it
reciprocated giving her
a second chance
to plant her seed
foreseeing her beauty
in a flower bed
where her petals
fall fertilizing earth
cultivating other growth

Choice (Dedication Rep. Gabrielle Gifford)

Am I alone
fearing the loss
of my home
not the edifice
or individual abode
but that which is within
the Human kind
I struggle with all
the vitriol
the distasteful
disdainful hate
that affronts our
better nature
We fling mire
at each other
because others
tell us to
We neither question
their direction
or accept personal
responsibility for
choosing to follow
the base of
which is our
primeval make up
in lieu of choosing
to accept the challenge
of resolve through discourse
We attack, we demonize
rather than choose
to understand
We close our eyes
rather than try
to discern truth
I fear the loss
of heart
of mind
of soul
of humankind
Soon enough
it will be taken
from us and
we will have
wasted the freedom
of choice

Song in my Heart

hark the song
in my heart
the strings
you strum
set a tempo
without missing
a beat

silent moments
in marsh and
elephant grass
hid me
fearfully wondering
if those trying
to hurt me
could hear you strum

wondering
will I ever
hear you again
you made
me smile
tears of joy
came quietly
when safely
I came home

you beat
in rhythm
in harmony
without fear
once again
I'm free
to Live
to Love

What to Wear?

A quarter Life left to live,
if that,
Three quarters behind me,
blindly searching
trying to find an indiscernible
joy thinking it was there,
somewhere.

A touch of wisdom now prevails
understanding better the balance
of life, it’s reality
somewhat juxtaposed in space,
in the universe

I’ve had time to look
in the chest of drawer where
the attire of life is stored
Have segregated that
which I can wear and that
which I cannot.

Now that age has lassoed
my physical growth
I must put aside that which
no longer fits
Look around, try on
and choose what's best suited.

My tastes have changed,
my selfish view has also
My discredited needs have been
hemmed and been redressed
No longer must I search
for how I must dress,
it is seamless and before me

Welcome the dawn
of my Autumn
I am now dressed
appropriately for you

Lonely Gallery

Today, a second day
of moping
Yesterday I realized
my words were no longer
being read
When once they were
my conduit of expression,
my catharsis.
There were those that shared
my mind, my heart and would
share with me their’s
No longer do they seem
to hear me laugh or sing
share my day time reverie
or night time dreams
They seem to care no
longer for when I’m lonely
or hear my tear drops fall
The pain and angst I feel
of unfulfilled social causes
fill my book of writ
They no longer tease or
have anywhere to go
My words are sprawled about,
strewn, complacent, now
apathetically floating in cyberspace
Used to use their colors
to paint the pictures
on my life’s canvas
But what’s the use
if no one visits my gallery
I may not be a Matisse
or Vincent van Gogh,
appealing or not
but just the visit,
someone just to care

Dare I Welcome

Dare I welcome your embrace
though I’ve gone through many a phase
instilled with a belief based on faith
unknowing and of whence the truth
accepting the promise of ultimate grace

My earthbound heart abounds with hope
wishing the soul be led into heaven’s gate
whose rendering is cast by the hand
of a loving maker that treasures humankind

My hope is that our journey’s destiny
encapsulates the ever changing beauty
shared in this earthbound life
and will provide a loving hand
to those who had not much

I fear not my departure
from this mundane existence
all I ask, if at all possible,
that I be held by the hand of Love
and with the other, hold
the hand of those that shared it
with me