1_24_08
Empezamos las dos perdidas.
En un barco que por accidente enlistamos.
A metros de distanci, siempre levemente separadas.
Ella me daba los mas extraños recuerdos,
no importaba el color o diseño
sus regalos significaban mas que la gravedad al suelo.
Inundadas de gente y banquetes.
bailando del mas extraño merengue.
Mirando de parada en parada,
como es que la gente en pares se descargaba.
Despues de un tiempo el barco se quedo ligero.
En aguas desconocidas admirabamos la fuerza del viento
pero cuando venia a la decicion de la direccion del mar,
nunca estabamos de acuerdo.
En las noches la invitaba a mi cabina
Las platicas largas producian humedad.
Las discuciones enfadadas inundaban las paredes con sal.
Semana tras semana, veia como lentamente el barco se comia.
Veia como los mares seguien iguales. De noche o de dia.
Me escondia en mi cabina, para mantener el barco fuera de peligro.
Me acostaba en mi cama estrecha, inhalaba polvo de madera y perfume de la marea.
Lo que fuera para no tenerla cerca.
Con la fuerza de sus sueños, ella jalaba mi suelo,
hasta estar cerca de ella, sentadas junto a su perro.
Y en mi debilidad de polvos y perfumes, de nuevo se volvia a producir la humedad.
Las sales de nuevo dañaban el hierro,
pasaron suficientes ocaciones hasta que el barco fue inundado de agua,
y fue dejado sin un hueco.
Las dos quedamos temporalmente ahogadas.
Ella nadaba, de sus ilusiones siendo jalada.
Yo aun atrapada entre las algas.
Despues de un tiempo la vi en la distancia,
construyendo una casa con palmas,
creando lluvias y vientos para que las olas me contaran sus secretos,
para combinar mi mar con su suelo.
Y de nuevo, en costumbre yo la tenia que alcanzar,
pero mis brazos estaban muy cansados par levantar,
mis piernas muy dormidas para caminar,
mis pulmones y mis emociones oxidadas con sal.
En ese barco perdi mi interior en un proceso lento,
y ahora en el oceano atare porciones de mi corazon a un velo,
para llegar a donde ella nunca estuvo de acuerdo,
para darle direccion a este cuerpo hueco.
Forever Love
A fixiation of ones mind
Leads to the unorthordox situation at hand
Uncomfortable, steady, tempted, but controlled
At least that is the thoughts I hold
Strangled by the look of another
How can we continue to proceed
This secret held is our room which sheds no light
Only we can see
A gasp into the emptyness
A sound I wish you to hear
Will never unravel these four walls
Its fear is captured
Is our declaration not clear to define
Your feeling for another still holds us back
Looking into the water the reflection enlightens
Remember the pain of loss
Is this life
Is this love
Is this us
Forever
Beauty
All things of beauty
In this world
Are also tragic
And dying
Everyone wants
To preserve
What is beautiful
But discard
What is tragic
No one sees
That tragedy
Creates beauty
And sustains it
No one sees
That beauty
Is deadly
Or that death
Is beautiful
When we
Seperate
Beauty
From Tragedy
We destroy
What we thought
Was beautiful
In the first place
When we fail
To see beauty
In death
Death itself
Becomes tragedy
Cathedral
My worship begins with a tree
Green leaves are my stain glass windows
The soaring heights a steeple
It’s trunk a sturdy pew
And O, the intricate branches
They are the groin vaults
More delicate than those of Amiens
Leaves rustle
A hymn whispered to me by Mother Nature
My only communion is her clean breath
Between each twig sky lives
I see straight to God
But I do not need to look up
All around me
He speaks of resurrection
Through the cycle of the seasons
In my personal sanctuary
Where God is the architect
Dear Palladio you have been out done
Sun’s bright shine warms my face with blessings
Spread my toes into a green salvation
Lollypop
Or call it a sucker
if it’s patented by a banker.
I like the red ones
shaped like a cherry,—
red, sour, merry.
If you’ve been good,
and taken your prescription,
by consumption,
something sweet and sticky,
stuck on a stick
takes away the bland,
the bitter, now making you sick.
Chewy centers. Bubble gum.
Many flavors to choose from.
Green, yellow, red, orange,
purple, cellophane.
Christmas Cheer
I baked some cookies and bread,
wrote Santa Claus in lead,
lifted a trundle bed;
go on, read ahead.
I wrote this instead.
Now, go go ahead,—
I sent the kids to bed,
washed and scrubbed my poor head.
Oh, how time fled!
Thanksgiving led.
Prayers were said.
Plans soon came to head.
The spirit of Christmas, revisited.
The Christ child, celebrated.
The magic of Christmas spread,
and the presents distributed.
sail before us
rippled glass is smoothly flowing
close on top and far below,
upon this orb that’s gently breathing,
a wedge cuts frames in ice-less snow.
billowed plumes of ivory glory
pull the scalpel to and fro;
wooden maiden set on leading,
on and on this ship must go.
venture forth! oh stronghold banner,
into that flaming outersky,
bring us back your stolen thunder,
atop your gleaming bow in flight.
Midnight Reverence
A burst of breath escapes my lungs,
Cloudy in the midnight light.
The freezing chill hangs like a curtain,
Draped among the breathing night.
The humming glow hits the ground,
As shivers zip straight down my spine.
Those fleeting nights come back to mind,
Of lying there with you,
Not knowing where the night may find me,
Or if your burning words were true.
The tree sits still, without a word,
Quiet in the night,
Keeping time within it’s grasp,
Waiting for the morning light.
Give Her All You Can (for W.)
She needs you
The way I wish
She needed me
But you
Can give her
What I wish
I could give her
So I’m begging you
Give her all you can
Don’t waste what
Precious
Little
Time
You have
With the wrong
Woman
Don’t leave her
All alone
With the wrong
Man
She wants you
The way I wish
She wanted me
But you
Can please her
The way I wish
I could please her
So again I beg of you
Give her all you can
Don’t waste this
Wonderful
Special
Love
You have
Find a way
Please
To be only hers
She deserves
All you can
Give
Writing words of love to the sea.
I write words of love to the sea
my mistress so far from me here
in the grey light and night of the city.
I write words of passion for the waves
that lap my skin when close
that makes me come alive when I think
of her and take a path to her blanket.
I write a passion for the great emptiness
of my desire when away
for the solitude of when we are together,
when I glide deep inside her
and only come up for air when it is almost too late.
