TRISTE PESADILLA

La realidad es triste pesadilla.
Se levanta con la lampara sol
Y regresa a la noche huye
No quiere saber nada de lo de hoy.
Prefiere descanso y alivio
Mientras existas yo te querre mas
que podrias imaginarte aun
aunque es muy triste, valdra penas
o Sea las matanzas costaran creer.
No las aceptariamos entre nos
Y porque porque porque los matan?
Porque sera que se hunden el poder
Y ya no alcanzan escape, pues,
Lo seguiran haciendo, brutales pues.

TREE ARBOR

The sounds of the morning are muted.

I hear what sounds like air turn to raindrops.

There is a symphony in the soundtrack.

It plays my favorite music the tree bough.

There is a world within the world, all knows,

Of many-colored rhythms in the spring

It mirrors as a forest casts shadows.

That it is aware of itself it knows

What beauty without limit would answer.

By words, “beauty, come forward” grows closer

leaf blooming palms eternally travels

the world it crosses crosses it ever

Rooted with restlessness stored in its feet

with heaven in its heart  arms of the tree.



TREE ARBOL

SOL DE SEDA

En la distancia de la ausencia

y verde el arbol se imagina

ancho y largo su oja escucha

las flores de sus ramas expone

su sincero entrego me inspira

al todo entero de su vida

el elemento de llama esculta

apaga el sol de sus consecuencias

la estrella elabora su obra

la acaricia de la mano mansa

mientras el petalo su fuerza da

estremecida en detalles

hechas de carne de luz molida

formadas su esqueleto en seda

CHILDREN OF CHE

It doesn’t help to love you Che Guevara

Look at me, dead in my twenties!, so what’s new?

Ask every generation for martyrs, then what?

Bask in the righteousness of being a critic?

OR dance with the dance with the devil himself?

WHat are the chances that No One is right?

That everyone’s Wrong for Good Reasons in fact

Yet whose are these voices that ring with such Zeal?

We are not animals yet we go Wild

With Lust Mad Adventure Forced Suicides

Then for what Purpose is Youth but to Die?

A thousand times every year in Childhood?

I don’t konw what to do with the Lawful

Whose Only Fat chance has come to be Bestial

SPIRIT OF THE WORD FORCE

Forceful for there was a Spirit within

It contained more or less everything

that ever mattered or meant what it meant

as to write within a dream of a poem

putting to words what’s not easily said

for a place of new beginnings awaits

where beauty of images and rhymes dawn

almighty was love, love was almighty

which brought out the miracles of being

such as you, here, today, my friend

you are to me what eternity time

as you appear in these words as my eyes

with your head slightly lowered and neck turned

on the words of the same force and purpose

Langston and the Law

And speaking of Langston I come to see

the sardonic absence that derisive

becomes lighthardened ascends from a vise

mutually exclusive hearts come to be

There is no love for a brother of verse

“I Can’t Breathe,” … won’t you let me go for once

Stop harassing me it’s so tedious

Get over to the sidewalk discussion

What do you have against me let’s be clear

I don’t have a Gun.  Don’t shoot. I can’t breathe

I wonder what you would have said and felt

--I come to tell you of the horror you hear

The dance of the law is a pirouette

Of Life and Death Changes don’t you forget it

ROAD MOST TRAVELED

I took the road most traveled to  the  stars

I watched through morning’s lenses over more

As sunlight from the heather’s cadence flows

To live in light is all my soul’ cares for

Of Darkness yet I know I still  have more

Perception is but half the power’s pull

To answer to its call and seek its cure

I want to live my life in nature’s care.

For Certain grains of heaven fall to shore

Beauty in an hourglass for minutes

That Spread across the speckle earth  the glow

Each and every large or small detail

I would walk the common way and go by foot

And wander never ever from its course

YOUNG EULOGY

Dead men naked they shall be one, they shall rise again! D.T.

Young in the undertow, strong and certain,

the dense earth recoils within its core

as between the present day and hour

over the soft shores rippled waves return

and power of the creation fire coursed

fused to a stem as  flowers that grow

and parted pain from sorrow when as it flowed

lit in its wick by a flame- lightning force

so gains a purpose the soul a life source

bends toward its origin goes over

to the union of a wholeness, reverts

as death brought together so ominous

love gives no escape at that departure

but honors in its passage its fervor

LANGSTON HUGHES

I, too, Sing, America. L.H.

When Hughes appears for the portrait in suit

Mustache, hat, and a gaze reveal something

He Becomes a mystery to himself

He watches wild turkeys in the grass

From the passenger carriage of the train

He could measures the distance to heaven

and compose a song for every scene

but not before long something ascertained

as the sound the road sings to the journey

and what most resembles a song within

and clinging to its self presented essence

speaks in memory of a courtier

Sir Langston Hughes of Joplin Missouri

later moved to Harlem New York CIty

BEAUTY OF LOVE

--beauty is by authority of love

No is but One in reverse and excised.

A numeral for up or down counting.

That is prior to itself in order

It merely appears at the exact time.

A sequence that starts without origin.

--just like a word game played in the abstract

that connects the loose boards of toe tack’s tick

Sticks and square tiles will not move again

If not by coercion or destruction

when it is shattered to pieces so lost

to pick them back up seems impossible

the spirit has seen and heard enough, knows

Life is a precedent of Love’s own will.

When it is not possible, it still will.

FORTIETH AND FOUR, PEACE IS BEST

Standards must be broken when they restrict freedom.
Stupidity cannot be mandated only conspired.
Superhumans won't win they doesn't exist
Every age of poetry has proven

More capable of force than Violence.
What causes Death but demoralization.
That moment when your Nation spit upon
Refuses to salute you once again.

THese eyes roll from the mind return aghast.
Dreams are not SHadows for nothing what's more
Shadows are Venom to Beauty Queen hopes
THey are recurring horrors that reprise

THey were taken Alive Alive  Return.
The 44th will not be Innocence Spurned.

SUN FLAME

The torch flame of the sun strikes at the earth.

Consuming its fire extracts the air

a vacuum appears the clouds hold their breath

and a day made for beauty is filtered

The filament source becomes animate

discerns what it would destroy without thought

and departs from its nature to create

a world for the living a world forethought

While its destruction is delayed a time,

wind and water muting heated extremes

undergoes its temperate hastening

then disarms its potent awakening

For just one touch of the solar exhaust

would incinerate everything at once.

Everything Depends Upon So Much

THE SONNET IS A 14 LINE POEM

WITH TEN EQUAL SOUNDS PER LINE AND ONE RULE

THEY BE ACCENTED OR UNACCENTED

AS WITH MOST THINGS THAT EVERYTHING DEPENDS

UPON

FOR WHY ELSE WOULD THERE BE DIVISIONS IF

NOT TO DISTINGUISH WHAT COMES AND GOES: TIME?

AS IT NEVER DEPARTS YET SAYS GOODBYE

SO MUCH IT SAYS HELLO TO EACH SECOND

AND LIKE A RED WHEELBARROW or WHITE

CHICKEN, IT IS DRAINED OF COLOR THEN TURNS

INTO CRYSTALS OF ITS OWN HOURGLASS
HALTING FOR NOTHING TO BEGIN ANEW

AS THOUGH RHYMING OR NOT RHYMING HAS DEW

IT MEANS NOTHING TO A SONNET AT ALL

NOTHING CROW

I study Crow who already knows me.

I come with my  trade marks of a human

No wings.  No shining black feathers.  No beak.

While he in his majesty’s soft feathers

Muscular shoulders, mechanic talons,

Brought together in his miniature form

everything to its breaking point, giant

if not by proportion without a flaw,

My size I can’t measure with his though large

For though I am large I’m a Know Nothing

Crow see I am a threat of perception

and won’t let me get closer than closer.

AVERAGED OUT

You don’t watch that end it will fall back in.

Got some reason to be talking to me?

I say  leave it loose and it will fly free.

Like I already asked -- who you kidding?

If it were up to me

-- it isn’t, sh!

Now there you go, dragging me in the mud

I never mentioned you to anyone.

Because I have my senses, Destroyer,

You who loves to Correct for averages.

And you, Enemy, your heart ravaged glare

That’s good. Turn Away. And, Never Look back

I wouldn’t bother to Care about Nothing.

When you who took everything that mattered

and turned it all toward your advantage

BEAUTY FRUIT

 The watch of wakeful hours counts again

the loss and removal of essential things

measured by distance to disappearance

then as truth purchased its survival

shred over centuries another fount

from mantra of ongoing turmoil

and lasting are pains to be endured still

Paramount as peacemakers to be blessed

Beauty is fecund, beauty is artful

But beauty is not a variable

Beauty is a Fulcrum Exponential.

Beauty is Faith Faith is a Principle

But as darkness falls it grows amorphous

Its branches bear its fruits for the purpose

WALES BIRD AND ARTHUR

Wales Wales, Land of my GrandMothers.

My soul must be partly an Island Shore

Where time over epochs anoint Feathers

My heart  which has been spent in a Tower

Yearns for an Ancient Home where there are Droves

Endless and Elegant Moss of Ages

Triumphal Origin, GLory to all Kin.

Answer me, Answer me, ANswer me, Bird?

Why do you Pity me if not for Love?

Yet, what good can you do with your Feathers?

Do you write Verses as I do you Now?

Or are you enslaved by Beauty tol Art?

Birdsong is what to Legends of Arthur?

The Noble, the Epic, the Courteous.

CROW LOVE

Crow caws and to distract and confuse me

Crow plays games with my head and my feelings.

Each time that he does I grow from within

Though he is wiser, kinder, and free

he doesn’t diminish my experience

I am only a destitute human

Yet for Crow I show potential he sings

to demonstrate his knowledge and nature

nothing he does is unnecessary!

Crow only counts what makes sense for saying

his ingredients on voice and wing

beak, talon, feathers, thinking and vision!

Oh crow are you to break me so gentle

and perch closer to me than you would’ve

BROTHER CROW

Crow strikes a pose on the telephone pole.

He straightens his wings sleek as a shadow

exchanges notes with a Crow out of view

Acting as Watch for his brothers below.

when I approach Crow descends on a fence

from where he watches his brothers at work

Three are in formation next to the curb.

Two stand at guard as one raises a fern

From it falls the seed of a palm flower

Rolled from its husk sack of fan-like foliage

Crow beats its beak on it, small, hard, yellow

With all of his brothers watching over

Each bird a Talon and a Talon a bird

One step inside of each Other bird.

TRANSLTING BIRD, Free Verse

Talk about a dreary day.  Got up complained about the heat.

Soon enough it was looking like rain.  Can’t even complain.

Oh how city streets confuse me, most words make no sense, either.

I hear them. I know the definition. And that’s it.  The rest is a guessing

game. “Did the weather change or did I?”  Am I bipolar, do I care?

Would it help to know? I doubt it.  OR why would I ask?

It’s pointless as most things, truly are. No, not spiritually speaking.  THere’s plenty

of that and much more than really necessary.  There is no free well to speak of. This is the killer, to me, it’s both true and false.  As a poet not at all.  As a verse, perhaps, maybe...

What that once meant, I can’t say.  But I understand why a bird awaits first for an unaccented rhyme to start a song.  Light is Sound to a bird, I think.  Bird plays sound against light. I’ll explain it in human: “ this is what a Bird does to show he is a Bird!” . Bird writes Birdsongs not just plays them.

By The next day, Birdsong has evolved.  Now, responds with an accented rhyme. Birds adds to his Song, “I can do it backwards, that’s how a Bird rolls.” By The next observation, Bird won’t have anything to say over the accent. Bird is emphasizing pitch.  The way that the sounds fall from the Nest!  Bird says in Human, “I live my life as a Bird up there’s the nest.---Listen, and Watch.”

Over time, this continues. .Bird had added a purr to his chirp.  Next, bird mocked his echo.

Unchanging AND Endless

#IF you ask me what a bird would say to a Poet:  Free verse is the union of all freer verse.

GALWAY BAY

When then Galway with its Sweet Song Rain

Drinks up the Thirst of an Ocean and Shines

Dressing every Cloud with Scented Listens

THat Swab away the Sound of Uncertains

WHisper in the Darkness of a Shadow

THe Bay in the Shore of that Ancient Time

Ticks with a Steady Heartbeat as it Chimes

Water per Eyesful the Tears of Dropped Pearls

Circumference is a Universe in Wholes

Grown miniature yet Grander than its SIze

How came it here?  Where did Originate?

THat I both know and don’t know it at Once

Memory of Mystery Never Known

As Yet without a Source is still a Home

CROW LAMP

EMC2   EMS5

I am here with my friends, the furniture

It relaxes with me tries to soothing

The floor has more emotions than I do

The walls appear lyrical and further

The pillow on the Cushion under sheets

They are more alive than I am prone.

For I am a Spirit without a Home.

I wander I flee I retreat I hone

The tune of the Earth in form of the poem

It has escaped now I lost my hold!

Just before it became language a silence

What I know is this: The Lamp is an Object.

The sound before the sound before the sound.

BLOOM RIVER

  I’ve seen Rivers    Rivers as ancient

As the Sun-bridled Dawn  in its Chariot

Carried across the densest filament

It grew a Leaf then Became a Flower

Its eyes were as INnocence never Touched

The other that was Lost was its Fountain

Crowned with  the Friendship of the Parted Friend

And another grew Stronger by its Near Death

FLowers as Rare as the beauty of Youth.

Its Only comes Once-in-a-Lifetime Curse

Beauty Once Found is always DIscovered

Were Time not so Elegant by its Truths/

Here and Before Never Again Be Torn

Bloom its greatest Maturity Upon