Thursday, December 25, 2014

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.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Satelite CD. Juarez

SATELITE CD. JUAREZ

-- A la Colonia Satelite

I return to Juarez in a moment.
I enter the parchment memory of time.
And I can see under shade of cloud thought
I run without motion toward the sublime.

Next to the immanent feature of sound
arise the aromas of roasted corn
and moistened the heart dripping with raindrops
streams over the surface of my vision

The history the Revolution still groans
Effort as momentous as Creation.
Que Viva Villa Que Viva el honor.
Platicame Algo, di que me quieres.

Porque entre tu y yo Ciudad Juarez
No hay Olvido no hay Distancias

Sunday, December 14, 2014

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


Friday, December 12, 2014

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 Chances don’t you forget it

Saturday, December 6, 2014

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

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

SO MUCH DEPENDS ON A POEM

So much Depends upon the Letter S

As it circles around its Radius

as the Sounds disappear in a Rattle

Faces its Past in the Letter of F

Breaths that it Loses Recovered then Since

Font is a Serial of Silence Shed

Sound of the Speeds of Imagination

Hollowed by Open Mouthed Vowel Consonant

Beauty is tje Binary of Consent

As Delight the Memory of the Dawn

Awakened, Bequeethed its Details Chiseled

FGHIJKLMNO
PQRS  Because Glazed Rainwater
Glased Rainwater on Red Wheelbarrows   


--To the Use of a Variable Phonetic Instrument Poetic Line.
Geometric but Serial, Red/White

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

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.