letter of gratitude

to all you wonderful artists, writers, etc.

i have not written or shared my words in this

venue for some time because i was beginning to

get the feeling that my heart, my soul, the spirit

of my words were maybe not garnering the eyes of

the diversity of readers in a more common place.  

many of you are so much more talented than myself

in this writing format of communication both coming

from an academic side as well as possibly in the artistic

realm with words in general and sometimes i would get

the impression that my contribution was viewed in such.

my words come directly as i think them and directly from

my heart and soul. they speak of what my eyes see, what

my ears hear, what i sense, all in the realm of that common

theme called ‘Love’. i enjoy expressing my love of this life

through my words, my music and enjoy all of your works

and words for they touch me and fulfill my sense of being

i now, utilize a more general social media conduit for the

purpose of possibly connecting in some small way with

those people not necessarily in the coterie of artist, writers,

authors. i have witnessed that there are consumers of my

words in this venue who are touched without the predis-

position of academic or artistic judgment but just ‘touched’.

i guess this is my way of expanding my wings to experience

the wind that had not flowed underneath them for sometime.

selfishly, i herald this experience in the open environment

that so needs some creative injection with a sense of kind

energy that may, but for a moment, distract from a less

than kind and loving environment.

i wish to let you all know that many if not most of you

have inspired my words, my heart and soul, my being.

gracias for sharing yourselves with us who are in need

of continuous creative stimulation and inspiration. Enjoy

whatever celebrations you all participate at this time

of the year

sadness of hate

sometimes the tears come

and they fall unceasingly unbeknownst

of their cause, of their pain

there are wailing cries and moans

of deep hurtful pangs and shards of

distress piercing a heart in chains

seeing life’s descent with mournful

loneliness in the souls discontent when

in love’s absence a void filled with portent

eyes watching in horror, heart racing in angst

is this life’s ending sorrow with no more

Sunrises to witness, no more of love’s embrace

sleepless

cicadas and crickets charm me in the night

when my eyes can’t seem to close to sleep

as my thoughts race through and about

with no cares of my body’s need for gentle rest

their cadence is not so dissonant

in the dark and cooling breath of night

as the solitary darkness provides the score

for this nocturnal ensemble

i do so wish to sleep and dream of my laying

on a dandelion, daisy and sunflower pasture

while hummingbirds drink of their nectar

and miracle ‘mariposas’ don their dance

with this reverie of a restful playground

i close my eyes to nocturnal aviary sounds

and through my open window, feel the titillation

of the cool night air as it sooths me finally to sleep

sweet dreams

wings on timeless space

the feather-winged ones manifest

of what our souls are and do in a

world of earthbound tethered beings

they fly and soar in the space where

clouds reside and trees and mountains

hover high to touch the sky

the wind knows of their wings and lets

them ride and play in its breath of air

and look upon the setting sun eye to eye

a lunar face smiles watching them cavort

amidst its darken veil and lights the night

to shine upon their fancy beauty in display 

oh Luna, in my heart at night

…oh Luna in my heart at night

i hear your face is sometimes small

and round sometimes large and cloudy

and sometimeswith a smile and bright

sometimes you change your colors

with the makeup on your face

you go sometimes without it

and then you dress up in

orange-yellow in the dusk of night

there have been songs i’ve heard

written for you and about you, some

melancholy though many are of love,

when two walk hand in hand on grassy

knolls and watch you smile at them

i’ve read, in brail, poems written of you

by Shakespeare, Keats and Shelley, of how 

you make ebb and rise the ocean’s tides,

how you touch the mountain tops by day

and light the sky, at night your beams kiss

the sea and silhouette flights of osprey

i wish that maybe just once i could see the

beauty you bestow upon those eyes that can

see, your breathtaking reflection you mirror

upon the beds of Sea

in my next journey, i need no longer imagine

but actually see you kissing the Universe’s sea

and in that light what mundane heart is left in me,

love poems and songs written, will set me free

marellano

wherefore are thee, love

Love is a vagabond

it is transient and a drifter

may be present one moment

then journeys elsewhere

but always present somewhere

the bounds of its presence

can be intense and blinding

but by its absence, so too,

can it be scathingly brutal

in Life, Love must be present

if not, Life will not thrive for in 

the absence of Love, its warmth

and nurturing, it's giving and sharing,   

it is the nutriment of Life

sometimes Love is seen from afar,

can be heard, its scent smelled but may

not be felt because of its distant vicinity,

too far from the reaches of the heart

and not accessible to its embrace

Love need not have words, unlike

hate which must be learned, Love’s

essence is of universal vibrations

that is manifest in the sunflower that

raises its petals to feel the morning Sun,

the river flowing into the arms of the sea,

the rain when it bathes the Earth, the Tree

then wanting to grow like the Mountain

that kisses the sky and the Wolf when it

howls at the Moon, the Eagle’s screech

whilst soaring in the face of the Sun

all this is of Love without words

when love finds you

when love finds you, the

heart flutters, breath quickens,

eyes glisten under stars

tiny beads of sweat fill the

palms of hands

an unexpected smile evinces

walks on river banks

become memories of

purple blossoms and the waft

of lavender filing the air as

tiny ripples underneath the

river’s water sparkles like

diamonds falling from

the Sun’s rays

                        

the verve of youth

resides within again

and the angst of aging dissipates

into the cool night’s breath

as the lightning bugs

dance in the air

the song and the poem that

the spirit of the Universe recites

… be still my heart

let mine eyes capture the

moon beams kissing the sea by night

and let me feel the warm fingers

of the Sun as it lays them upon

Nature’s breast, by day

so when mine eyes shall close

to rest onto that eternal nocturne

sleep, let me dream these life made

memories that sated my soul,

with my partner’s hand in tow

you know, the one who filled

my heart with Love

i observe the night

supine against the foot of a tree, i peer

upward to the black canvas sky of night

watching the stars hazy light moving in

and out, breathing the night’s cool air

cicadas have decided to chide the quiet

and stillness of darkened sleep reminding

there are some who are nocturnal and

stay up to watch the Moon’s display

i hearken in a stream of thoughts and

memories of the day that’s passed with

wide eyed reverie, not of dreams, while

my heart palpitates slow, fast, slow again

i wander into a euphoria where the cool

air titillates my skin and the waft of night

fills my lungs and mine eyes behold the

darkness and my heart dances with my soul

i feel in touch with the spirit of Earth

as the feet of the tree supports the chakras

in my spine while parsing its stillness and

quiet in its wisdom, sharing it with me

wisdom gentle and free

…i

wish

to see,

hope to

touch and

 smell, hear,

to taste and to

learn about life, to

.…. become its verve

..someone once said to me

you seemingly are a wise man

quickly, i stepped back and said

..i am but a student in his infancy

wisdom, it cannot be explained, but,

..if one observes the tree stand sturdy

then sway in the wind and the eagle fly

overhead watching us and the mountain

stand grand, quiet and still, there, one will

then observe, witness where wisdom resides

so then if i cease to wish, to be, and escape my

‘self’ to become the tree, standing sturdy and free

to let my ‘self’ fly above to observe the mountain top

 just maybe, what is called ‘Wisdom’, will then find me

                     what is gently without gentle

                        or softly without soft and

                          heartfelt without heart

                           or lovely without love

                                the day does not

                                  begin without

                                     the night

awaken with wonder

open my eyes from my ‘querencia’ of sleep

feeling crisp cool shards of night air seeping

through a slightly cracked window that separates

me and the restful cove of my abode from the twilight

and the dangling of night stars and their goings on

so now the rapid movements of my eyes underneath

their blankets closed begin to adjust, to cease from the

dreams that sought shelter from the skirmishes of Life’s

awaken and chaotic restless of the day as i hear the

canorous voices of my feathered friends perched on

trees and bushes just outside my window pane

i peer outside and notice yellow daisies stretching

their yellow petals up, up to touch the fingers of the

morning Sun and so too, the white daisies doing the

same, for it seems there will be enough warmth

and sprinkle of golden rays for all

and the poppies flaunt their purple and maroon

bulbous derbies they wear atop their long sinuous

stems while they also show the daisies that they too

can play amidst the gold and orange canvas being

painted by the Sun’s hand

a hummingbird shutters in to drink the nectar beads

sparkling like rainbow prisms from dew left by the

edges of the night’s eyes on petals of tiny white and

crimson bells tolling their scent and sweetness alongside

the lilies and tulips also dancing with a blowing changing

breeze from an awakened Nature’s breath and sleep

the day begins of this, sharing a new beginning to the human

spirit, allowing it to witness the aesthetic of life’s assay and

to be embraced so to assist in its wanderings through the day

with a smile of wonderment as the soul captures the joy of

what may mitigate the toils of the mundane travails, today 

convictions of heart and soul

when you asked me to soldier for you

and asked me to raise my gun for the

true convictions of this country and 

those deep within this patriotic heart 

it is i who will do the soldiering and

i who in battle, if not the body the soul

is lost and it will be my love ones who'll
carry pain and suffer, who'll pay the cost

tell me what it is your country stands for

in morals, ethics, integrity, human kindness
in a flag and its anthem and when it asks of me
and others like me of this ultimate request

does it give worth to the toll of humans lost

when i am sent into another sovereign land

to impress upon them that their convictions 
are seeming threats to my children, my family, 
my home by the virtues of their heart and hand

yet if we can learn how to speak to each other,

change the mindset  of, that, 'killing is the answer',

then our flags could fly in the wind of  understanding

our anthems would play alongside with one another

if we gather our voices in harmony harkening in
praises of the uniqueness of each other’s land and
recognize our differences realizing what separates

us are only the mountains, the oceans and the sand

we are all born with eyes, legs, and hands, the
same red blood runs through them when awake and
while asleep, sharing the air we breathe, the water
we drink and consume the gifts that Nature reaps

until we realize that knowledge is the answer to the

hate and an empty heart's woes, and to those who try

to lead us into a darkness, we shall shun and ignore you

for Love is the answer, let it reap within our tattered souls.



*for Magaly Guerrero's: Beautiful Freak's Fest, 2017

eagle eye

see me and see you,

we are one

we are not two

you are me and me, you

for a moment stay quiet
and listen to the silence
if you close your eyes 

you'll see the vibrations

be witness to your breath

listen to your heart, listen to mine

for in our surroundings

we are one

i am the eagle soaring
and i tilt my crown and look

down onto and atops of trees

upon the faces of mountains

and the flow of the rivers

running into the seas

the golden warm eye watches me

then turns crimson before it rests

upon the edge of my Earthly abode
pulls a blanket of darkness over it
and then flicks on pinpricks of
lights onto and upon my sky as they
twinkle around the moon, the night
watchman’s eye

i stop to rest my wings.

unfurl my talons onto my nest

and then reflect upon my flight

where my dreams are of the tops

of trees, the mountain faces

and the flow of streams

from their rest, my eyes will open
once again to revisit another day’s 
sojourn as i spread and flap sinuously
my wings to dust off the stiffness and

yet salvage the soaring memories
caught in the web of my feathered

dream catchers

i twist, to and fro my crown to

stretch and loosen, ready to soar
so that i may create more dreams

and i tickle my spine up on the hanging 
puffs of cottons from a blanket of an 
azure sky riding the heavenly wind
until another day's end 

love's value love's worth

hate and violence, i disdain.

love, i cherish but to what end

does its value diminish

when the object of it departs

love, when shared and reciprocated

by another's heart has great worth

but when death devours it, it leaves

the untenable toll of dearth

the sun rays kiss the flower by day

at night it hides away and the

pedals sleep in the dark and dew

as if there never was the two

when the tree sings with the wind

rustles about the notes in Spring

yet when an angry storm comes

uproots it, wherefore, their song

aesthetics captured by mine eyes and

no longer present my heart can’t find

a love once there, now dissipated

into another journey another time

so what value is love if it avails itself

to this void, filled of anguish and of pain,

does the soul truly remember its worth

when so cruelly departing of this Earth?


*a purging/catharsis; tragically lost a friend a week ago, she was way too young left behind two
  todlers: very tragically lost an aquaintance two days ago way too young, he has two young'ns:
  yesterday morning lost a good friend to cancer, I hope she left without pain

night's onyx eyes

and so i stare into the black onyx eyes

on the face of night as i peer outside my

window. the night stares back at me,

dark and cold through my window pane,

i cannot sleep and so i do vigilance upon

the darkness of its face wondering if it

is as lonely as it seems in the cold sunless

sky out there?

a tiny light looks down upon me from

high above and i wonder if it can see

me from that distance the way i see it.

i stand here on this large earthen rock

floating amidst a black space we call a

universe and I, being but a tiny microbe, 

for does this twinkle of an eye see me

and recognize my vibration, my soul?

and when i, dressed in this incarnate temporal 
attire, no longer am i he who stares out onto this
sea of darkness for my soul has journeyed on
joining the universal spirit where all of life goes, that
which came before me and all that will come after,
and now i reside as this dark face that stares back
in through the window into the face looking out. 

will i recognize the face staring out into my onyx eyes?

mi amor

if my legs could not walk  

the wildflowers waving in the wind

rivers and streams, the forest

mountains and seas would only from

a distance exist for me

if mine eyes could not see

the azure sky with cotton clouds,

reds, purples, yellow of foliage, 

yellow gold of mornings, crimson dusk

dark of night with twinkling stars

if mine ears could not hear

the rustling of trees squirrels wrestling in them

or the wind whistling at the short dress of spring

cardinals and sparrows, robins and starlings

the screech of hawks and eagles, howl of the wolf

if i could not smell the lovely waft

of the persimmon and rose, the sassafras

and mint, pine of conifers and the lilac

that kindly soothes in through our open

window pain as we sit in each other’s embrace

if all of this i did not have

my heart would still beat with desire

for my lips to taste the warmth of yours

and a smile would still evince upon my face

for this, the love i have runs deep within

my soul with yours till the end    

*although thirty years together, my lovely wife and i celebrate today our tenth wedding anniversary.

  i wrote this for her this morning.

heavenly dreams

the indigo face of the sky

with its powdered cheeks of white

gives way to the gold and yellow

of the Sun’s warm smile

and the wind's breath is barely felt

for the tree will have none of it, standing 

still listening to the Cardinal and whilst 

at its rooted feet, a child sits with mommy

softly the child asks …”mommy what kind of

flower is that…”mama says “,that’s a lily”

and the child asks “Mama, and that one”

…”that’s an iris”…” how about that one, Mommy”

…”Oh, that is a purple tulip” and the child asks

“ Oh, mommy look at that one it’s beautiful, what

Is the name of that one”, mommy restlessly says

“ that’s a poppy that will help us dream” and child

says…” they look so much alike, do they know

their names”? …mama with a smile says…”I don’t

think they do my little one, we name them

so that we know which one is which but they know

we appreciate their beauty”, and the

child then asks …”does this tree know that we’re

lying here”…mama, ”oh yes”…” where did daddy go”

child looks up at mommy… and with a solemn

breath and a discreet tear, mama whispers in her

ear…” daddy had to go to Heaven and talk to

God and ask Her if we can come and visit”…

“do they have lilies and tulips and iris there, mommy”

“Oh yes my child”, mama somberly attests…” they have

beautiful ones there, my child .” when will daddy tell

us what God said, mommy”…“daddy will tell us if we

close our eyes and lay down here quietly and let him

speak through our dreams”

a soft wind begins to blow on the denuded stems of the

lily, the tulip, the iris and the poppies as they sway to

and fro and the tree looks down to witness their sleep

and the indigo sky reflects on their skin as the warmth

of the Sun’s kiss begins to cool on them as the pedals

of the flowers grow inside their bellies

the noir of the night with the twinkle in the eyes of stars

and the wink of the moon say goodnight to the resting Sun

and to mommy and child who lay at the rooted feet

of the tree watching over them as they dream their

heavenly dreams