The Likes of Me

What wind does there yonder blow
it crashes upon my face
surrounds me like a whirl wind
warm or cool, wet and cold


It molds me like the rocks upon the shore
years of blowing back and forth
giving rides to winged friends
and anything it grasps
when hard it blows


It circles me with life’s adornments
sometimes they glitter or they glow
and some may fall and break
when the wind howls
and intensity grows

Not unlike the stones of ages
it forms the structure of my being
shapes the high or low brow
the cheek bones on my face

So when I look into a mirror
or others peer into my eyes
they see what wind around me swirls
that encapsulates my world

A Balance

Awoke this morning with the vocals of Eva Cassidy
and Israel Kamakawiwo's singing their renditions
of ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’
Simple and mellifluous she spreads honey on an
already sweet dream filled song whereas he
plays it with his ukulele in a happy upbeat

Yesterday, filled my listening pleasures with
Yo Yo Ma’s emotional integration with his cello
interpreting Beethoven and Mozart through his fingers
of their linear manifestation of human genius

Sate my palette with a coating of Shelley, Tennyson
Shakespeare; all this to spoil my sensorial
with choice pleasures buffering
the inundation of pain filled realities
of treacherous Weather and Wars

Tomorrow I shall greet my wife’s elderly parents
visiting and bringing more than ninety years
of these days of choices and well cognizant of their
awaiting to embrace their transitional destiny
where all the music, the poetry of Human history
now reside in that restful abode

The Rapture is Come

The Rapture did come for some
once existing full with life
in a harrowing wind blown moment
it’s breath of inherent Being is ripped out
by Nature’s vengeful angered hand

In Hell's abode the devil exhales
and the dark of darkness replaces all light
the quiet and calm of the day
is swallowed by a deadly roar
of destructive winds forcing life's flight

Screams resounding with cries of sorrow
filling the darkness and left unheard
cuddled embraces fill the feigned security of corners
where once Felix and Fido’s bowls were left
now lifeless souls of dead huddled carcasses rest

As the wrath of Earthly destruction rolls away
left behind are chards of
denuded Oaks standing still
barren of leaves and limbs
casting eerie tombstone shadows upon piled rubble

Unlike, as captured in pictorial annals
of a Vietnamese child naked, burned skin
scaling and pealing off from napalm 
her smoldering village lays waste behind her
giving rise to the distil morals of war,

had this death and destruction
been from man made war
the battles would be fought and
victory or defeat would be hailed
but this being Nature’s blight
unsettled questions assail the night

Left is unresolved pain and sorrow
questioning the existence of our Faith
Why must all this suffering be
and where is that intervening
caring hand of our Deity?

Release

Floundering about of what to speak
what words with which to paint the picture

of those that draw the memories
or those of the empirical present

a process of emotional acceptance of
how life exists beyond the self

trying to intertwine one’s soul
with the universe

accepting that in order for this to happen
one must release the individual self

and if this be the choice entwined in empathy for all
then let me be part of this universal oneness

is this called Love

You Are The World

When one feels their world is
lonesome uncaring and small
look out your window
walk out the door
expand your world
answer the call

It is said
it all begins from within
where comfort and joy abound
from a larger world
you allow to surround

Your eyes will grow wide
lungs will expand
mind heart and soul
sated from demand

The more you will have
the more you will give
an unending overflow
enough to share like a sieve

The emptiness fills
the void disappears
when you become part of the world
it dissipates life’s fears

Holding Love's Hand

Love is a curious thing
We try to share it
with those for whom we care,
those who we choose and want in our lives
They then walk away onto their own horizons
taking with them this Love
We wonder if we can Love again
How much more Love is left inside
can we Love in the same way again
It’s taken me many years to realize Love
the nuances of it’s manifestations
the feelings and understandings
the emotional stakes
I ask myself... Do I Love well and
is Love reciprocated proportionate
to how one Love’s
It’s curious how Love can
be shared even with the abstract of Faith
Is Love ‘caring’, magnified
When I walk onto my horizon
will Love hold my hand
and not let go

Life Goes On

Restless, rambling thoughts and memories
of how the years have crept up on me
Mother and brothers speak to me
from that other world, oh the absence,
the void, Life goes on

Sadness abounds in natures devastations
Human suffering, the pain of unexpected loss
recovery mode for those who are
the survivors, Life goes on

Children playing in the streets
young lovers walking hand in hand
trees are full with leaves
a waft of a lilac bush, begonias, Spring
Life goes on

Chards of sun rays break through
grey wind blown stratus clouds
light droplets spill over a rainbow
sprinkle upon pedals making them sparkle
Life goes on

A robin holds a tiny twig in its beak
closely watches my approach toward her tree,
bright red cardinal perches on the feeder,
a redwing black bird eats seeds on the ground
it tilts it’s head chattering at me
Life goes on

On my driveway with a cup of coffee
breathe deep fresh air into my lungs,
kiss my wife standing next to me,
our quadripedal ‘kids’, Jules and Jaz
chase the ducks and squirrels
Life goes on

The Beach

I stand here with sand between my toes
The wind blows hard. The skin on the cheeks
of my face flap like little flags on a pole
The tides rush in ominously roaring all the way
toward me teasing me to jump in and play
A cacophony of loud splashing sounds against the rocks
standing left of me all stone faced. Stand like gentry there
for many years prior to any man before me stood here.
The roaring sound of waves and whirling of the ocean wind
recreating the beach head where I now stand incites a query,
’ when my spirit does leave this incarnate shell,
 will it ride the waves of yonder sea
ride onto this shore and tease another's soul
that long from now shall be standing where I stand here,
observe the horizon and the long kissings of the
azure sky with the sea’?

to quote P.B.Shelley:

"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 divine
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
it it disdained it's brother.
And the sunlight grasps the earth
and the moon beams kiss the sea
what is all this kissings worth
if thou kiss not me?"

Love is Sufficient

May I dwell upon my milestone
just for a little while
never have I wailed or whined
about that midlife crisis
but now quietly I've collected
the years and for less of these, I pine


Grateful for the morning sunrises I’ve seen
the shared changes the seasons bring
the healthy play filled youthful days
of wanderings in my teenage years
with childhood antics, the inordinate ways


Fortunate I am to have walked along side
so many wonderful human spirits
some having exited onto another world
others have wandered into their own mundane lives
so much wealthier I am for having shared
with them common space and time

My life's greatest accomplishment
is having Loved and being loved
by my family and friends
sharing the warmth of their hugs and kisses
never forgetting those smiles on them faces


My later years witnessing life's vicissitudes
of harrowing ugliness, the sorrows and pains
I’m sure not unlike many of you
who have witnessed much of the same


If there exists that omniscient omnipotent spirit
the one written about in the books of Divinity
I hope my well-being for others will be recognized
But if not, to have lived and to have loved
will have filled my life more than sufficiently

A Moment

The conversation
Soft and selfless words exchanged
Alone we stand
in surround sound of chirps and birds of song
A teasing breeze
Verdant landscape in our periphery
The salient feeling within

The smile
and the warmth of her breath
a synchronous touch of hands
and simultaneous desire to embrace
The caress of her breast upon my chest
we look into each other’s eyes
capturing for memory’s sake

April 60th

Today is April my birthday month
I welcome the sixtieth April of my life
melancholy sits upon my shoulders on this ride
three years prior on my birthday my Mother passed

Ascribed upon my day of celebration
is a significance to making memories
only few will remember my words
but we'll have shared the warmth
of an embrace

Time seemingly dispels our existence
without emotion, without care
like budding twigs and hatching roe
that are swished away on an undertow
and the river's bank then takes new form
as if that life it washed was never born

Will the universe remember
this tiny speck called the Human Race
for all it's found accomplishments and tolls
where Love resided once but in a forlorn face

Feliz comple anos, a mi

Native Value

My Native American Children
I hear your screams
these words I speak to you
that you may find a balance
in your sense of Value and for Hope

When you awaken in the morning
ingest the air knowing
that breathe comes from
Mother Earth’s breast to share

You must open up your eyes
your ears, your sense of feel
in that which you touch
and smell, see and hear
it today, for it has value

Go out and run outside bare feet
and capture in this freedom jaunt
the sight of Mother Nature's dress
and know every step you take is yours,
no one can take this away

For those born without legs
without sight, cannot hear or speak
the one who runs will
share their eyes, their ears, their feet

This gives true value to life
and provides the hope that’s lost
in the empty caverns of the heart
and to the desired comfort of the soul

Disdain those things that others have
for they have placed false value
on hoarded objects they must own
in order to feel their own worth

Do not be captured by their desires
for unbeknownst to them these very objects
take away their personal freedom
owning parts of their soul

Giving not taking,
sharing not hoarding
fills the heart and soul
with a feeling of Life's value
that sense of Hope

I am a person born of Indian maiz
in a land older than yours
where many mornings I have walked
upon this Earth, taken many jaunts
given thought aplenty of where
my soul deserves to reside
whether in this mundane existence
or cutting it short by my own hand
I have found, though, in this clouded
sense of Hope, a prevailing Love

“Be Here Now, Remember”

A Short Reprieve

Should I feel a modicum of guilt
if I choose to delight myself
with the sounds of chosen music
and the loveliness of words
captured between papyrus leaf

while my neighbor scrounges for food
and a warm cove that once was
her domicile disrupted with the spontaneity
of nature’s eruptive fragility
distroying her diurnal comfort

my heart palpitates with sympathy
my eyes swollen with tears
sincere with empathy
charitable donations placed
given within my means

my soul requests a small reprieve
from the visuals and sounds
of the cries from Sendai
a short escape into the warmth
of a compartmentalized space

If I would be there
I'd help pick up the debris
from your streets, distribute
warm blankets and water
but it’s beyond my means

so, if you please,
with mitigated guilt
I shall hug my wife my kids
tell them how much
I appreciate this moment
unlike the wrath placed before you

Tanx so berri mush!

Ms. Lolamouse nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award and I would like to thank her.

The following are seven things about me:

1) I'm Mexican American

2) Multi-lingual (means I speak with a four prong tongue)

3) I always wanted to be taller

4) I would like to stay younger for longer

5) Wish my mother could have had a loving partner for life

6) Love Chocolate

7) I like yoga except for that one position where one releases gas

I will be nominating someone as soon as I give this a little more thought.

Cheers!

Today I think of all those floating souls
whose feet would carefully step
each morning upon those Asian stones
not knowing of the wake roaring upon their shore
to swallow them taking them away
from their morning walks

Lifelong fishing craft now slurry through
inland fisheries wiping them away
downriggers hitch on planks separated
from other fisherman’s crafts
catching now upon strewn debris
floating down the once Sunday morning
market filled streets

They are spiritual and resilient souls
whose markets will soon once again
align the streets with fresh fish,
fresh greens, vegetables and
the netted pockets of rice

Sendai, your souls will meet with those
who now float above the mudslides of Chile
those of northeastern Australia and New Zealand
the still wailing cries of those from Haiti

We’ll praise and celebrate your lives
Raise our glasses filled with Sake
Chilean Pisco, Australia’s Coopers
Haiti’s Curacao
Here, Here, to the spirits long remembered!

PS: Dai-ichi please keep your mouth shut
       otherwise we'll fill it with the sand left
       from Chernobyl

A Little Bit of Care

Don’t know if when I reach out
and say I understand,
does this help mitigate the burden
the onus of the lonliness

Maybe I don’t give you money
or take away your pain
or keep you from aging
but I can look into your eyes
and say I understand

I can ask “are you ok?”
hold your hand and help
you walk across the street
take you to your doctor’s appointment

I can bring you food
cook for you
make sure you don’t spill it
help you wash up
then caringly help you
under the covers of your bed

I can stroke your forehead
speak softly till you
unknowingly travel into that
soft and gentle space
that when awake you cannot take

This I can do for you
It’s not much
but for a moment
in this harsh and cruel life
it allows you some comfort

And you lie down to sleep
knowing in the last waking moments
that someone cared,
someone understood.

Under My Bonsai

I sit alone
on my living room floor
a cold pervades
not ambient
embraced by absence
a chill a void
abandonment
is my canvas
the color on the brush
matters not
nor the brush stroke
whether in water or oil
in the warmth of blues
the freshness of the whites
the yellows
the passion of the reds
the purples
the darkness of the black
the olives
can’t find the paint
that places smiles on faces
unfeigned glee in eyes
kindness in the heart
caring of open palms
I sit
with my Bonsai
surrounded by a
a spider plant
succulents
a tall corn plant
a sprawling fern
purple variegates
my two small gentle souls
curled on my lap
providing calm
and warmth
supplanting an uncaring
human kind

Feet Raised

The path I walk
my footsteps now are soft
when once they’d stomp
wanting all to here me come
they now step gently
Quietly

They used to run
the legs were strong
in naked feet
unnerved by jagged stones

Faster and faster
they’d run past
much of what now
I wish I’d stopped to see

Slowly they now stroll
callused, some broken toes
carrying weight
that once was light like snow

They used to play and jump
sharing life’s playground
with friends and sibling’s feet
now on this path
they walk alone

When once these feet
sped for miles
now only walk short trails
then rest with bottoms
raised so the pain might wane
sitting, sadly only watching now,
my lifelong bane

To be or Not, to be

Begin this beginning wondering
are the souls hovering o’er their incarnate shells
lying in the streets of Bahrain
in the dessert of Libya
or sidewalks of Iran
make the cause worth the loss

As I watch from the comfort of my home
seeing of how the strong arm of autocracy
is squelched by the gathering of voices
of those oppressed

The strength of this revolution
comes from the strife and scars
of faces gathered who’ve made a choice
to fight with life for human dignity
so that their children will live
in self rule and liberty

We see the violence and lives lost
People in these countries fighting for a cause
Dictators suppressing the fight
through sectarian genocide

In my own back yard I feel a strife,
a strain upon my person.
My face is brown, my hair is black
when I now walk outside my door
I concern myself, always looking back

I’ve lived a citizen of this country
now for many years
placing my life in jeopardy in 1969
still I must walk amidst the question,
because my hair is black, my face brown
‘where are my papers?’, I’m now, forever bound

The oligarchic elite wish to keep the power
They hoard the money and jobs
Pass legislation maintaining privileges
for those whose face is white, the right

Right wing politicians legislate perfidy
Surreptitious and insidiously
they suppress today’s undesirable ethnicity
Their identity is masked as liberators
stealing the name from America’s history
‘ Tea Party’, of those that truly were

Unlike history, though, they believe in segregation,
excluding some religions, ideologies, race,
because of this there will always be interrogation
for those that look like me and you

A Smile in Space

Why do glee filled eyes and joyful smiles last so short a time?

Why do moments of this kind come so infrequent?

Sometimes those times of momentary joy come silently
They appear in quiet spaces in the oddest places
When no one is looking and it’s cloudy
the sun is slightly piercing the cumulus
touching with shadows cast on a single soul
she sits alone on a bench underneath
and amidst a conifer, maple and oak

A salient solemnity arises, encircles
papa and mama, octogenarians, sitting together
quietly with arms entwined into one another’s
staring into space, a space known only to them
She gently bends her neck resting her head on his shoulder
A sense of exasperation abounds the two of them
yet with a soft and gentle gasp of fulfillment
to their lifelong shared moments in time

A child sits next to mom on a thick patch of green grass
interspersed with golden strands and daisy caps
blowing gently in the breeze as
she turns to look at me with those large hazel blues
with a curious smile that only pure innocence could demand

If only this smile could pierce the gray of day
and cascade with shards of sunshine rays
upon those who sit alone
in the dark and cold
casting shadows of lonely souls