VIOLET PURPLE BLUE

The pastel tint warmed in milk of the moon

woven from astros from oceans the loom

that it fulfills in its culmination

body to soul to everything fathom

the eggshell existence carapace home

as extends to its free freedom free form

and for that pure reason the purple blooms

like a bubble between waves of fusion

the unanswered question is an answer

absolutely anything appears One

as it nurtures a mirror opened Poem

sheer celestial heather heaven on Earth

thriving on the nutrients of Glory  

SUN BLOOM SKY PETALS

The sun blooms a petal blue elixir

seeing for itself the visible sky

looks along inside eye of the eagle

over the distance as vast it reveals

or races on the features of vision

The lens of a wing a the power pulls

and silence awakes a season of sound

past the past tense and into the lion

that crosses the mountain into its own

and roars of time eternal from hours

the flame as it venerates the fire

the living tree trunk of viscous bower

Lava that melts like the wax of the moon

distilled into starlight draped in the Sun.

JUNE MOON PINK MOON

--for Odilia Galvan Rodriguez

 The beautiful morning awakes with love.

It glistens on the edges of the world

Where dreams are bundled in the afterglow.

Of the full and sacred moon’s pink flower.

Advancing like the stars that shine aloof

creating in the universe a home

Roof without limits, alabaster tone

Tinged with greatest mercy and hope so soon!

Purer lamp than any lights the shadow.

Darkness cast to memory where grace holds.

The grace of complete mastery of form.

Completion and awakening the hour.

A simple miracle above the clouds.

When June with its great mystery unfolds.

GIFT SIGHT TO VISION

http://apachechangingwoman.blogspot.com/2015/05/sight-gift-to-vision.html

EMIL EMILIANO

 --poetry

Stimming and Gasping Im having Asthma.
One Son and Another Arisen, Mom?
Are you Okay? I don't want you to Know.
Yet I can't hide the Sounds of my Breathing.

My Son comes to me takes my Pulse in His.
He stands with me in Misery's Throne.
But I dont' want you to be like me Son.
He Says LItlle to Nothing. His Lamp This.

His Wings have Encompassed my Heart and Lungs.
With all of his Strength he Calms the Thronging.
Just WIth One Look he Lifts My Whole Being.
I Surrender my Doubt. I take his Love.

While I have been Strengthened he has been Drained.
My Child, Same Mother, Same Pain Again.

M A Y D A Y

When April has passed its contents remain.

Though there is a drought golden poppies bloomed

Magnificent clouds gather foment rain

Distant as relief arrives in a storm

Necessary for the sweetness of spring

Though it has ended and May strikes its key

The first is for the People, hard-working,

Who toil as will their inheritors.

And as there is no justice for workers

There is none for the grandchildren either.

Then what does a yearning ported of fear?

Why wait while Misery never tires?

Why hold back our grievances, why conspire

Against our interests Misery tires.

CRASHLAND OF ANGELS

The hills of Los Angeles rise strata
along the same force that the city forms

parallels of their magnitude apart

intersection urban and uniform

buildings from every view, and apartments

people conducting routines and schedules

stores, buses,sidewalks within the air vents

that channel through the boulevard’s street breeze

What oh what does it want from the person,

this fortification known as the town

that haunts with dreams of importance lost

certain and cautious doubtful and faithless

yet it grows closer to its destiny

destination the crashland of angels.