Tuesday, April 13, 2010

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Monday, April 05, 2010

i remember the smell of your skin
the smell of a springful garden
i remember the touch from your hand
so submissive and strong
i could only collapse upon it
i remember our embrace
when words were lost
it was impossible to voice
what our lips were silently singing

now it hurts my soul
to witness the strange dance that lovers make
they mock our love
men and women prostrating themselves
in the marketplace
they belittle our love
in the news and the magazine stands
we are advertised as cattle
on the auctioning block

they do not understand
the naked saxophone
is nature's clarion call
to aggrandize power
through the amalgamation of life
they only know
a woman values a man
for what he can do
they only know
man wants a woman
like his appetite to rule

and as newspapers rush
to print the story
it becomes too irresistible
with the facts misconstrued
everyone falls
into the supremacy of their best guess
completely unlike the epiphany
of you in a sunday dress

and they twain
shall become one flesh
in fervent heat
hearts melt, combine
but the glowing embers must perish
if it can not abide
on to death, the fools
if the equation of life
is usurped by divide

Saturday, March 06, 2010

I will swallow your weakness
like a waterfall stills a beautiful reserve
I will lick away your tears
as a desperate newborn is swabbed
I will eat your anger
and soften it in the swells of my bosom
I will cover your melancholy
as parenthesis in the annuals of time
Your fears I receive in me
as a pebble lost to an endless ocean
Your frustrations are interned
by the bounties of my nourishing arms
Your sadness is but my obeisance
at the gates of happiness
Your burdens are spread out before me
across the hills of our love they can not be recalled

Monday, October 26, 2009

Be still my soul
The calmest wind blows
The breath of life
Another passion kindles

Be still my soul
The senses hear every sound
And in nature sweet colloquy be found
Why the trivial my attention vies
If bemoanings tune tomorrow's lullaby

Be still my soul
Expectations are ghouls
Menacing notions in the dark of night
A wistful doppelganger; he vanishes
For the inevitable sunrise

Be still my soul
Forbid the devil's trill compel thee to act
Rather patience combine thy powers
Pari passu
And by and by

Be still my soul
Deceit scarifies the heart
Yet for grace
Honesty ages the soul
In kind

Be still my soul
Happiness is cast by slight degrees
The provocation of flux
Need only a moment of balance

Be still my soul
If some gift so merry
Thought you'd make
The lessons to glean
Mayhap better to take

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

the planets. the peaches.
pruned. picked. for the reaches.
the centuries. a second to the eternities.
you can have it. say laugh when. you hear the jazz note.
the voice of all that i spoke. the saxophone.
like dialing digits of truth. on the telephone.
come on. say one and two. up and down. the diversity in one single crown.
upon the ears of sound. it's the heart's listening device. toss it like rice.
at a wedding. human genes get paired up. and twisted.
so simple. it comes in flavors of liquorice. red and black.
off and on. check the track. when the needle skips.
we find all these differences.
let me bring it back. for diversity.
zeroes and ones. spread the spectrum. across high and low frequencies.
it's so easy. let the record speak. can you stay on beat.
the principles of the high. the sincerity of the meek.
whatever lies between. is one or the other. blended across the centuries.
and all mothers. give birth to the last. man to the first.
follow that. discussion of high low.
mid ranges get blown. saxophone pace the flow. get pricked by the tweeters.
soul from the bass feeders. save the appetite. for the words that i write.
and then speak. you you. not me. splitting hairs. atoms. quarks. and light.
beams. like a smile. across a broad spectrum. either off. always on.
high low. then get gone.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

love is change
growth; enlargement
centripetal motion
the muscle moving blood
through the body
as objects we are
set in motion

love is protection
hidden away as a secret garden
my favorite repose
my useless cares are melted
by your warmth; light
the supple textures
endless curves; boundaries
to explore

every love poem is foolish chatter
from babes
your love is eternal
and wise as the oldest sage

Sunday, August 30, 2009

A boy with a childish heart
His play things his friends
The sun the rays of energy
He plays violin, away quietly in his room
A masterpiece somehow he knows
The music is written somewhere on the patchwork
Of life
The fabric that we all know is woven by grandmother’s hands
Small town country band
Early birds and all the dirty worms
A big boss man has a chuckle
The rug is under his feet
So he supposes
Groceries and hallmark cards tell the story of grit and grain
Mother’s labor pains
Get and gain
All a fabric
A quilt, if you will
Patterns sublime
And you know it
You have a dime
A little boy’s dreams flicker
A coin sent skipping and rolling by someone’s toe
A boy’s dreams you may know
Tell the story to tell them so

Monday, July 27, 2009

your love be the moon
over indurate earth
great swells of emotion
be your fetters
the unseen power
tides of passion sway
the oceans' impletion manque
some desert beneath unquenched
once tinkling waters now effusive made
a loveless lacuna
your passions to remonstrate

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

the honey bee working a mystery
every piquant flower
a dance that must be learned
for innocence
to be sung
among the living
the mouthfeel of the senses
the plenary arm of the universe
moving swiftly
across the void
gathering in a vortex
tunneling the umbilical cord
gushing as a thousand waters
a gavel is slammed
life on a pin prick of reality
the sting of death
swallowed whole
for birth's sweet amrita

Friday, December 26, 2008

swiveling across
a silvery spoon
out the bass drum
a weightless splash
dances across the milky way

stars snare pop
jewels in a chandelier
celestial emanations
nectar to the vine
ambrosia to the gods
space's viny layers
strung across centaur's harp

Monday, December 22, 2008

this is the future
writing has expired
nearly overruled the day
even slang has become
everything is well known
completely redundant

a child's voice
spells the human genome
babes lolly wisdom
cures are reverse engineered
explorers trace the steps
a baby's first is
science's last great discovery

Thursday, December 04, 2008

there are children down by the water
and God is coming to get them
working the cashier and the moneychangers
but God is coming to get them

the aliens and the atheists are languishing
the air is stale and pinch
the pyramids must be vaulted
behold the human wench

voices are but mere vibrations
yet you hear it all around
follow each one another tract
a ripple felled the ears of sound

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Where you are space bends
you are the one, the golden child
foretold who shall change the face of
existence, for all eternity

For you shall raise seed
attain righteousness
and reign as a priest and a king
or a priestess and a queen
of the most high God

Until you have inherited all
and creation of the worlds
shakes at your speaking
and progeny forever is multiplied
as the words of life fall from your lips

Sunday, June 29, 2008

May 19
Petropolis - The Imperial City

The city of the old Monarch had its noble embellishments as anyone would expect. The king's houses were kept in pastel yellow--the queen's places likewise in pink. We were told that Petropolis was the preferred summer destination for the nobles seeking respite from bitter heat. Although royalty still maintained a foot in the bustling city, the comely town now followed the free will of it's good and delightful people.

It reminded me much of European cities, the people doing their best to revere the significant pieces of history preserved in architecture, and honor the traditions of their heritage by simply being active within the communal space. Every historic building and sidewalk along the city streets was active with merchants and sprightly shoppers to meet the demand. Well I thought, to spend my days a flaneur watching the common salute the noble in freedom's oblige.

May 10

We took a journey outside the city of Rio de Janeiro into Angra--a rural juxtaposition of mountains, islands, and hidden beaches. We traveled by automobile, which is not very efficient when tall mountain ranges and the ocean bend around every curve. However it does provide for a breathtaking journey. There we found endless quantities of the aforementioned. It seemed much of a resort town; yachts and good boats kept company in the bays. Islands that were able, supported small mansions. A church house also kept community among a cluster of island estates.

On the boat we sped across one side of paradise to the other. We visited hidden shores, played volleyball, fresco ball, waded through a rain shower, then went at it again. Nature showed us multifarious combinations of sand, rock and water. I was confounded by the many island beaches connected to stranded mountains, hitched to the ocean floor--wondering if a similar place existed in all the world.

May 08

As we approached the city of Rio de Janeiro by air, I was surprised by the city's expansive meanderings spread out over an impossible mix of hills, mountains, bays, lagoons and buildings. Like a river snaking through a canyon, urban developments twisted along the base of every versant--sandwiched between beaches and rugged mountains.

With a population of 12 million the city stretched everywhere, much more abstract and broken than the quaint photos found on google searches and commercial postcards. From the sky I saw patches of city swathed as disparate regions strangely connected, as if different organs of a collective body--or more simply--spread out and formed like a human hand.

Even though it was May and Brazil was experiencing autumn, (like the rest of the southern hemisphere), the forest covered landscape looked hardly timid. When we finally landed we prepared ourselves with bug repellent, but it was pleasant, around 75F, and the lush vegetation soothed rather than swarmed.

Monday, April 14, 2008

They glory on His name
And counsel those who crucified Him
Yet when the work is among them
They reject it all the same

They honor prophets and powers of heaven
True none greater than Jesus' ministry
Yet all remain dead if kept in history
The body of Christ entombed still if not risen

They are sure according to popular voice
To carry forth His true message
Save His works and ordinances for grace
His prophets and messengers for personal choice

They excuse the Spirit for burden of proof
The wise lean to their own and rejected it
For the unlearned can easily understand it
His sheep filled by the living bread of truth

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

in this great big universe
that never can end
if you believe a big bang
and the big crunch
you will always be half right
for what exists then
on the other side

to think this is the only place
or to think it all just started
to think existence began with us
here on the earth
or those who have tread
never had it been created before
in all of the eternities

strikes me foolish
as saying it will end tomorrow
there was a choice long ago
a question, one that sounded like an alarm
for one lain sleeping
but it never happened
to exist?
existence happened

how can the fool say
no one knows
but us
no one knows
every child that ever tread the earth
one does know

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

i'm going to live forever
even after i die
i'll just keep on living
i don't want to die
maybe just a little bit
i'll rest in the dirt
while nobody's looking
i'll make friends with worms
i won't care anymore
about germs

maybe it won't be strange
to feel my body feeding the earth
i can be a kid again
when i used to eat dirt
and worms
only for dares
and peer pressure mind you
but i won't mind anymore
will you?

Friday, March 28, 2008

young girl
the blossom of youth
everything an artful expression
words spoken from the soul
grace the pure in heart
as pages of calligraphy
sketches with charcoal in hand
the coloring of personality
make the distinction
with stroke after stroke
the rhythms of life
very well
man searches for
the flower of youth
young girl

Friday, March 14, 2008

falling like
to find
love brandished
as a weapon
held tight
as a warm gun
convection's heat
from the
barrel of passion
the handle
of emotion

Friday, February 22, 2008

no man knows
a baby will learn
a child grows up
from the ground up
the seeds of existence
the breath of life
of its own will
holding onto a sign
the mendicant's noblesse oblige
saving himself cardboard only
habituating in nomenclature
stronger than reinforced steel
and the buildings we build
pause to reflect the mouthfeel
its already down your throat
the symbols of life
to visionaries a blur
the blind a sonic boom
a great light which dispels dark
mankind may finally see
his own in the fallout

Friday, February 15, 2008

Warm heart
Surrounded by your curly locks
Every curl
The passion of the artist's stroke
The majesty of the skater's triple axel
Every curl
Reflecting the nature of woman

The symbolism in every man's heart
His course across a bending path
Unexpected hills, climbs
His trials, passions 
Swallowed up in victory
The very thing that proved him
Now held tenderly in his arms

Monday, February 04, 2008

from the obdurate city
he took his fancy
a benign tumor
she was
in the callous world

the heel of man's labors
the sensitivity of a babe's skin
long gone
blistered into a hardened layer
for protection

and sweet baby's breath
sometimes replaced with
harsh threatenings
it pleased him the clamor
to find a pearl inside

Friday, February 01, 2008

Is a rose
But a tender seedlet
Found waiting in your reach

Is a hug
But a touch
That pulls the heart close

Is a kiss
But gravity
Left waiting on your lips

Is a rose
But the sweet blossom
Of warmth and light

Is a hug
But trust's mouthfeel
Of the senses

Is a kiss
But a whisper from your lips
The silent pleadings under your breath

Thursday, January 24, 2008

There are people right now
Saying and doing things
I did something
Strong pencil
Give me now the text
Unfortunately every nation
Passing fads
The revolution
!Viva! as long as
Life lives
As long as
Death exists
Things will come and go
?Como no?
Tu dadi es de Peru
One nation
Mother tongue
Now I'm learning yours
And yours truly

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

says the hand
friendly hands
drawing pictures
on my friends' hands

Saturday, January 12, 2008

The human man
The passion, the trepidation
Every situation
He lives
Witness his influence
Until he be exterminated
Like thoughts vanquished
The power to act extinguished
His movement is a flaming fire
With wings
Then instantly
Time floods the dark of night
He is vanished

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Love drips like sweet honeydew
Creation bears the fruit
Propagating seed in universe
Time is the winepress
Gathering love pari passu
As eternity
Space nurtures the womb
The pulsar
The nebula
The young bud
A galaxy at the center
Drips like honeysuckle