Friday, January 27, 2012

Intention I

Intention I

Our laps
are dust laden
with the years
that hope has
helped to drag
us through:

layer after layer of 'the just enough'
and I know everyone loves to love the words:

I hope,
one hopes,
we hope,

but 'Hope' is a mask,
stuck to the face of what is,

sputtering in place,
a temporary salve;
it is a flawed thing,

a slant of cupric light,
inherently weakening
beneath the weight
of its own shimmer,

like a propping up of dreams
on stilts of spinning twine,
unwinding in the clear broad
stare of the conscious mind

and in this dawn of clarity,
my intention is to dislodge
the specter of surface

at the behest of the only
word that matters; joy.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Beauty born in Beauty´s rearranging

 -dangling, dangling,
all the bar-room globes of hazing light;

our aging engines, loudly churning,
travelling the distances between the seemingly,
the back and forth, between the black and white.

everything keeps pouring,
foaming, we keep drinking
through the reasons
wrong or right

all is changing or exchanging,
Beauty born in Beauty´s rearranging

-->2006

My walking parts!

I relay this moment back to myself
so that I will always remember to live in the present,
to feel the pulse of all my walking parts!

La esperanza, siempre


I have shelves
and milk crates
stacked into corners,

storing my books
and my music and
to the side of the bed
the dusty guitar,
slowly dies into
a decoration.

A television
and a stereo
and those mahogany
dressers that remind me
always of my grandparents;

they are long dead now
but I find comfort in
supposing they live on
as some unconscious energy,

swirling in the topsoil and the galaxies.

Across the room
a pair of sneakers, capsized,
floats beside a Spanish dictionary

and 'la esperanza',
my slightest Hope,
goes bobbing up and down
atop a tiny raft of poetry,
with its' "Nineteen Varieties of Gazelle"

and I am pacified by their
assorted stories of family,
fatherhood and figs.

I remember that I’ve have made my own
stories about family or Spanish evenings
in bullrings laughing, our beautiful brotherhood
and Papa’s hot polenta on holidays.

Y claro, yo tengo la esperanza, siempre!  

 
-->2007