'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