CLOUD FLOWER

The Clouds in the sky are of such Beauty.

They vary by their size and proportion.

Across the Face of their  Body they Cry

The Tears of the Universe fall Upon

One another are delicately Sheathed

As each to itself is a Mirror Shape

Edges of Infinite Blades cut their Nape

While Profusely they fly as they Feather

I don’t know WHy such Loveliness Ails,

For it becomes what once was a Sail

when it swings from the Rooftop a Ceiling

The Cloud within the Cloud within the Clouds

Consummate the Distance of an Hour.

Mi Alma a Tu Alma

Ay Alma que me renueves te Amo.
Eres tan feliz como Hormiga
Que se Encuentra un Dulce, mi Amor,
profundas rodean las Amigas
El mutuo instinto de las Abejas
Pero hechos pequenitas sin Alas
Me parecen mas Fiel Miel del Oro
Los pedazos de la Eternidad
Caen y se Deshacen Vuelen Nacer
Porque por ser de los Mas Chiquitos
Y tan mas ejemplares criaturas
Descargan el peso y el llanto asi!
Regreso mi Tema Todo Por Mi
Para mi y para mi Mejor Ti.

DOVE TALON

For precious are certainties of nature

as the talons of a Dove are stunning

and adhere to a wire like nothing

squeeze every essence to remain in air

observed by the heartfelt despairs of time

beckoned forward with bread crumbs to allure

and yearning to be free from all its cares

pains of a millennium portend war

through dark scarlet eyes beyond rainbow’s hues

the Dove vanishes weightlessly returns

looks out against the everything-person

an animate being sentient aware

it has since the last line gone off to perch

and when it returns will slice the war.

God Particle

I divine Language as some worship God.

I marvel in its Ascendance and Fall.

I hear entire Symphonies in Sound.

They carry all the Voices of the Wall.

The Chamber of the World inside a Shell.

It never Forgets even a Syllable.

Its Vowels are its Hallows and Shelves of Silk.

A Temple of the Memory of Dawn:

Pure as a Sound without Sound makes a Sound.

It is Constant in Musical Foment.

Never has it Lain Down its Instruments.

But Played on them for Eons Infinite.

Just as every Person is a Being.

As such is the Power of a Feeling.

Pen Mightier than a Weapon: (Old Hat)

When I speak of War, I am a Tyrant

I interrupt others and shout in the street.

My brain conserves what my body wants free.

How can I be of two separate meanings?

I say I speak the Truth and yet I Lie?

For once it is established it Migrates.

It surrounds me or peaks around corners.

An entirely different person.

A shy and meek teacher goes to protests?

A reclusive writer a penchant

My Verses are the Sources of their Poems.

While they move from left to right I return.

IF I don't travel Left there's no Sonnet

This makes as much sense to me as a Gun

Father God Creator

-- For Peace For Eternity & For Love

To God who watches over my failings

who presages everything but hatred

created a whole universe for me

I sacrifice this lamb as my duty

To observe you as I do in my smallness

I perceive as you surround me Great One

command over the hand of history

provide in abundance to every Soul

The innocence as it lost became pure

It was never written until it Was.

Life remains in it as it perishes.

Mercy for the Dutiful whose honor

was earned for the Love of a Maker,

A Creator, A Deus, and A Father.

Heroes and Martyrs

Where the Martyrs and the Heroes go to Death,
 Far off in the Distance, the Silence Embossed
 These were His Eyes that were Cast far Apart.
 There are the Limbs of another Lamb’s Dress.
 IT matters to the Ancients what we See.
 For they have known of it Long Before We--
 Those of us Living Today were their Dreams.
 We vouchsafe their Terror or their Beauty.
 War is not Original nor is New.
 Terrible are our Pains but worse are Theirs
 For if there is a Soul or a Spirit
 Its Aches are as real to it as Ours.
 We are merely the product of that Source.
 The Days of Time Past return in the Hour.