I’m in my car
Waiting for you,
My heart beating
Underneath my ribcage,
I feel the exhaustion
And the weight
Of the little bag
Of tools that it
Brings with it,
Just in case
Pieces start to fall off,
The wait feels infinite,
The ticking of my
Watch echoes through
The air vents and
Leave me wondering
When will I get to
See you.

I’m sorry
It’s inevitable,
It disappoints
And discourages,
It runs its course
Upon watered
Eyes and calluses
On the palms
Of your hands,
Despite all
Of that,
There’s dishes
To be made,
And cat litter
To be cleaned,
And people
To meet,
And storms
To prepare for,
And there will
Be someone to
Love,
Don’t let it
Get to you,
Despite.

The sky rumbles.
The smell of rain
comes through
as it drops ten degrees.
A wall of droplets
covers the open
greenhouse,
just after the caladiums
and the English ivy,
posted nicely
on symmetrical tables.

The wind dances
with the tall trees.
I can barely hear myself think
or talk
God is angry today.
Lightning strikes.

Arturo,
this 5’6” Hispanic old man,
acts as if he’s scared.
“Ay ay ay,” he says,
as he looks at me laughing.
We all sit,
waiting
for the sudden rage
to stop.

The roof
becomes a drumline,
each beat heavier
than the last.

Arturo crosses himself.
A silence blooms
between thunderclaps,
and in it,
I catch myself wondering
about the things
we don’t speak of,
how laughter
can be a kind of prayer.

I wish for coffee,
as if warmth
might steady the world.

The rain doesn’t ask
for permission to soften.
It just does.

I woke up today,
My thoughts scrambling
Through my head,
The noise is uncomfortable,
So much that I can’t go back to sleep.

I stand up to go to work,
I untie my hands and do my usual,
I get dressed and out of the corner of my eye
Shadows dance and drink, making a mess of my room.

I try not to pay attention, as they drop me down the stairs, right to my front door.

I reach for the doorknob,
I grab and tap it.
Waiting for it to open,
But shivers run down my spine.

As my lungs fill with red and oranges as I inhale
And an emptiness only the woods understand
As I exhale,
My hands continue to tap the doorknob
From Right to left
A symphony to my hears,
Dopamine On the tip of my fingers

Suddenly but not so sudden
the door opens,

And I feel,
I feel like a knight without his armor,
Like a doctor without his stethoscope,
Like a prisoner without his cell
Like a kid without his favorite toy.

Maybe I feel too much,
Maybe feeling is not the problem here,
Maybe I’m wondering about the wrong thing
And I need to remind myself to breath
Because the emptiness its unbearable.

Something is missing,
I should go back inside.

I’m lost in the ever changing,
A cycle of life that everyone
Seems to go through eventually,

I stopped at the tracks too early,
And have been shown the harsh
Reality just before the curtains closes,

I’m left in the dark,
With too much time to think,
With too much life to live,

It has been so long the shadows
Are starting to move in between
The non existent and below my feet,

Leaving paper trails of horrid things,
Love poems, books written by people
Who share a sentiment, and cigarette buds

That change with how much money
I have in my pockets, I wish they
Would start a conversation,

Scare me off my chair and linger
Too long upon my shoulders,
I’m in dire need of a friend,

Maybe a foe, a reason to keep
Going, to claw myself out
And find myself sunbathing

Across blue skies, sky gaze at
The stars that were once gods,
Enjoy a sip of whatever is available,

Because it doesn’t matter,
It never has mattered.

As I sit
In the middle
Of a blunt
Rotation

I lean back on
The chair
As the birds
Fly by,

The sun filters
Through the
Leafs of an
Oak,

“What is it
That you guys
Say again?”
“Puñeta”

Everyone erupts
Simultaneously,
“Puñeta!”
And we laugh.

a corona gets
Passed from hand
to hand
And I watch

This salvadorian
Make a perfect
Puerto Rican
Impression

That for a second
Got me at the edge
Of my seat
Holding on

Onto the arms rest,
Sobered up my high
And made me feel
Like I was sitting

Back home
At the edge of
The bottom
Bed

Of my friends
Bunkbeds,
I laugh and
Take a swig

Off the cold
Bottle and wonder
Why it tastes
So bitter sweet.

I sit down,
Near the flame
Riddled coals
On top of a box
That’s made
to cook pernil,
My dad opens it
For the 100th time,
To show me how
it’s going,
Excited,
This is the first time
They have done this
Since they moved to
This little town
Of broken arrow
Oklahoma,
He hands me a beer,
Sits down and tells me
Of past heartbreaks,
Even the ones before and
After my mother,
That I should
Stop with the
cigarettes,
Lectures,
I sit and listen,
With a new perspective,
Skinnier than I was last time
I was here,
With how good the food is
I might leave with the pounds
That shaded in the shirts
That I wear,
My little brother,
Playing the piano
He got for Christmas,
Wearing a grinch shirt,
My uncle comes in,
Sits down and talks about
His time with my great grandfather,
I find myself happy,
Listening
Invested,
In times of loss,
Of regret,
Reborn,
A Red Baron,
Among the ashes
Of what once was.

I took on poetry,
And books,
And more books
To calm the bitter
Taste of salt water.

My heart
Takes no respite,
As it swallows and
Drowns in the
Mediocrity.

While autumn
Sinks his teeth
Into meat
That I so
Solemnly
Follow
Catching up
With every
Living breath
Just to feel the bite
Marks left behind.

My heart is not
One to give up.

I live
Through misery,
In hopes that it’ll
Bloom in the
Evenings of spring
Bringing the butterflies
That I wait to wake up
With one day,
My stomach has been
Empty for a second too late.

And the bees,
Oh the bees.

So magnificent
As they succumb
To the nectar
And take it back
Home to be made
Into honey.

Hard workers in
Look of hard work.

Patience is virtue
And I’ll wait in the
Roaring sea.
Through harsh winters
And freezing rains.

Just to feel,
What I’ve felt again.

For as long as I can remember
I’ve been looking for love,

With a heart full of stitches
And duct tape to hold it together,

Trust me, I’ve been looking everywhere,
Above the ***** dishes and below

Undone laundry, behind the litter box,
And besides the stack of books

That keeps growing every first
Paycheck of the month

Since the second one falls
Victim to responsibilities,

I’ve tried the mirror, I trace
The moles around my face,

And ******* own mouth
As I fog the reflection

And think on who I was
Before time was time,

While I walk back to my bed,
And the pillows that already

Need changing, I lay, like
I’ve laid before and prepare

To go to sleep below the sky
And above the ground.

They talk
In the name
Of god
And Jesus,
They walk
The walk
And wear
Their suits,
I don’t
Believe
Their pretty
Words,
Or their
Gospel,
I try to
Stay away
From
All that,
But if evil
Does roam
Around,
It’s them.

God spoke
to me today,
In the voice
of a precious
Woman who hides
From all
that’s wrong
Underneath her
Sheets.

The voice
soothes
My aching
bones,
That drag
behind
My skin,

It urged me
to believe,
To hope,
to love,
to want.

But how
can I
when all
I ever
wanted got
thrown
Into the
passion of
Burning fire.

And God,
I can’t
find myself
Today.

Or tomorrow

Or yesterday

Like a bee
In summer
Heat,
I get lost
in the
Flower
petals
And
the smell
Of gardenias

The nectar
that drips
off my lips
Helps
Me cope
Around
Sky scrapers
And this
unbearable
Ache that
Has found
a home
Somewhere
around
My chest.

How can
I God?

Throw a
Life vest
My way.

How much
Do I have
To beg
To be
Found?

Will you stay?
Wrapped around
My arms underneath
My sheets,
And my pillows,
And the ceiling fan,
And the ceiling,
And the sky,
Let me fall
Into a deep slumber
As the warmth of
Your breath against
My chest defrost
Ancient drums
That pound a beat
So lost in time,
I start to believe again.

Amongst the sound
Of the rain hitting
The metal canopy
That covers the cars,
I can distinctly
Hear the horn
Of a train,
Everything else
Comes with imagination,
The wheels hitting
The track,
The wagons shaking
And roaring through
The intense rain
That floods the streets
And makes me feel
Nostalgic.

Today,
I happen to be
tired of being a man,
I walk empty streets,
That feel just as empty
As I stride on the asphalt.

my feet always
Tapping to the rhythm
Of the quiet palpitations
Of sorrow and one more day.

It will haunt me forever,
Missed opportunities,
The discouragement
To wake up remorseful
Again and again.

The sound of love and peace
That Leaves my lips
Every moment that I think
Of bougainvilleas,
The corals in the sea,
Avocado trees.

and You who looks
at me with pride
Every now and then.

In days,
Weeks,
Months
Like this

I can’t wait
To be happy.

It’s April again.
And now
the bulbs have
Sprouted tulips

And the smell of
Hyacinths wreaks
Havoc upon the
Butterflies and
The bees that are
Coming out of hiding,

And the mountains
Are wearing color,
While the rivers
Become their shoes,
Flamboyan trees
And hibiscus ties
The laces.

The spring rain
Have baptized me
And washed the
Dirt off my face,
As my hands are
Buried deep in the
Soil of another day.

“It’s raining outside”
I say as we lay on the bed,
You sleeping on my chest,
The sound of it hitting the ceiling,
The chills it brings with it,
And us just existing together,
Two people that
didn’t know truly
what love was
Loving each other,
Learning along the way.

the rain gets heavier,
I can feel the warmth
of your every breath
on my stomach
Letting me know that
We are both alive.

I fall asleep with you,
And when I wake up
Still drunk on love
You tell me

“It’s raining outside”

I’ve been on the tight
Rope lately,
And every time I fall
The net of old habits
Saves me with an embrace
So warm and familiar,

I let my fingers
Fall through just to see
How the other side
Would feel like,
Silent and cold,
Another familiar feeling

underneath
Cold bottles and
Lighter fluid,
Today I accidentally
Let the cigarette bud
On my legs run
Their course,

While I wonder how
She’s doing,
I wonder if there would
Still be passion
Behind every kiss,
Would the wind carry
Her scent towards me

I’m just an infant,
And it dangles keys
To catch my attention,
While her eyes glow
As we match the beat
That red cells carry
Through my veins,

But it was up to
Yesterday,
And time has
Been a great enemy,
Betrayer of the
Unfortunate,

Holding my head
Down towards
My mistakes, like
A dog it walks
Me through
The side walks
Of my apartment complex
For everyone to see.

I’ll hold unto
That shame in my
Briefcase along
With others,
I’ll put on a
Great smile
And baggy clothes,
And i’ll hop on
the summer breeze
Like dandelion seeds
Towards new beginnings

It feels like I should want you,
My heart misses yours,
He will follow me forever,
Dreaming in broad daylight
Here but not truly here.

“How do you not want that anymore?”
My heart tells me time after time
Just to remind me of this empty spot besides me
Emptiness that I fill with stars, with clouds
And a little bit of regret.

“Things are just not meant to be”
I tell my heart as I wake up.
I tell my heart as I brush my teeth.
I tell my heart as I put on clothes.

I tell my heart
“You belong to me, be it in love or not”

Bukowski wrote
“I loved you
like a man loves
a woman he never
touches, only writes to,
keeps little photographs of.”

And I wish that was the case,
Because when the night
Gets darker and darker
And the streets
Get filled with shiny
Lights and long days,

I start to remember the
Smell of your hair,
The silk on your skin,
The dew on your eyelashes.

And the poems
You have written about me,
The bad ones,
And the good ones.

When the room starts
Smelling like rot and
Decay.

And I can’t keep my hands
Off of the kitchen knifes
And the lights flicker
Morse code.

I think to myself
what if I would have stayed
In the comfort of my home
And sunk in the problems
That I had and didn’t have.

What would have been
Of my life.

My chest
Spiraling out of control,
Surrounding my heart
with this nasty feeling
A feeling I though long forgotten.

And I stand here,
Physically standing,
Mentally laying
down in a fetal position,
Trying to withstand
This abusive parent
I call my mind.

Cold sweat
rolls down my face,
Like a river to
his way to the sea,
Embarking on a journey
He already embarked before.

And just like dejavú,
It keeps happening over and over again.

Back home,
lying down after a nightly walk,
the sky transforms,
a ceiling lit with holiday fireworks,
a web of little light bulbs
that flicker into shapes,
I see a a kite, and a smaller kite,
things unseen in the dim of the city.

Yet, I still feel lonely,
in the city,
Or in the corner streets I once knew.
I rise and walk
towards a home I once called home.

Each step, heavy with melancholy,
Some share the rythm.
Hands buried in my pockets,
holding on tightly,
somehow,
to my heart.

I sit,
and look at the
Gardeners with
Their shovels
And mowers.

the steam cleaners
In their white vans
On their way to scam
Their next victim.

the retail workers
With bags
Underneath
Their eyes,
So tired of waiting
For the last check
of the month,
And the second job they
Have to hold.

The mundane drips
From their open wounds,
And I just hope,
To be more like them.

Y quien pensaria,
Que estaria agradecido
que no mori
Cuando quise morir,

De la nada empeze
A vivir otra vez,
Con un cigarrillo
En las mañanas

Y una taza de cafe
Para mantenerme
Despierto,
Recorro calles

A pie, y devuelvo
El aire de mis pulmones
A la atmosfera,
Mientras paso

Las manos por las
Grietas de un arbol
Protegido por el
Govierno,

Que mucho habra visto,
Sentido y despreciado,
Sin temor a la muerte,
Ni a un futuro distante.

Pero por que hay que
Temerle a la muerte,
Y a los errores y las
Desgracias,

Si nada bueno
Viene de vivir,
Entonces sere
Como un arbol.

plantare mis raices
En un presente
Fuera de mi alcance,
Mientras pierdo
La cordura,

Respirare vida,
Y devolvere vida.

Why don’t we sit together
To enjoy the sounds of the city,
Like moss on a rock
Watching dragonflies
Fly by as their
Wings gently caresses
The maga flower that
Hangs down their petals
Upon the shadow
Of a colossal tree
Who’s trunk has grown
Wrinkled with age,
how tall
Does he Stand,
Majestic as skyscrapers
That blend into the night
Sky with lit windows
As stars that shine
A spotlight upon the streets,
I can only see it on you,
My love that in between
Sitting quietly,
Throws glances at me
Like daggers against
A target dummy,
Followed by a smile
That stitches these
Wide and deep wounds.

Let’s run
from the inevitable ,
Let’s leave our city,
and buy a hut,
close to the edge
of the world,
Closer to the lies
than the truth,
Closer to the things
that keeps us waiting
for more than misery
and a cloudy night sky.

Let’s escape,
The unexpected,
the inescapable,
Let’s run away.

And if you ever
leave me, my love,
The edge of the world
will comfort me,
In the darkest of days,
On the unstable nights,
I’ll fall through
mountain range,
and waterfalls
of despair,
Just to wake up
by your side.

Just to fall back
asleep to the rhythm
and warmth
of your breath.

let’s run away
to the edge
of the world,
not to jump off,
But for once Live.

It’s a sunny day,
I watch you
Slip through
My fingers
As I dip my hands
Into you,
Smoke dangling
From my lips
Like scars.

Tell me,
My love,
My new love,
My new found love,
Will I lose you too?

The tide pulls back,
a quiet thief,
stealing footprints
before I can trace them twice.

Tell me,
is love always like this?
A flicker in the dark,
a matchstick kiss,
a fleeting warmth
Tired and soulful eyes.

Or will you stay,
linger like salt on skin
like a song I whistle,
long after the music fades.

I’ve met a beautiful woman,
her face native to a land
that’s not mine
but I would still recognize it.

There’s no second thought about it:
she’s native by blood,
by eyes,
by cheekbones,
by the warmth in her skin,

a warmth that transcends
her shirt, my shirt,
my skin,
finding its way toward my soul.

Lightning strikes twice
campfires and oven mitts.

What a disrespectful way
to love someone,
but I wouldn’t wait
to love her.

imagine,
sitting in some rocks
at the border of the beach,
wondering,
feeling adventurous,
Asking the milky way for
permission
as our lips interlock ,
and our minds become one,

the sound of the sea becomes our bed,
the light the stars emit,
becomes the electricity
between touches,

both of us not able to open our eyes,
as the moons reflection in the ocean
showers us with gratitude,
the blood racing though my veins,
gravity pulling me down as
my breathing becomes heavier

i feel high on happiness and adrenaline,

who would have thought the next moment
i would be drowning in the sea.

Oh, little
Prisoner of
Moments
And the
Materialistic,
Misled
And
Misunderstood,
When will
You find your
Own way?
Be late on rent,
Flip tables,
Argue with
The ones
Who mistreat
You.
Little one,
Things will
Be okay.

My lovely marigold,
With orange blooms,
In the mist of summer
I found you, hiding
Beneath the shade
Of a great oak
As the waves of wind
Spoke in sonnets
And stirred the tall grass.

It was so easy to find you then.
But now you hide
Beneath cold stones,
Letting your roots grow
Without me.

Still, I’ll wait
Against the trunk
Until sunset
Falls asleep to the breeze,
Hoping to wake
Curled in your arms
While the last stars
Flicker above.

He who walks
Will find that
The stinging
summer sun
Leads the loved ones
Over clear waters.

Beneath elegant
Palm trees
That when time to
Take a break
It creates a shade
Like no other.

The perfect place to sit,
Only when the flourishing
Mountains casts a shadow
On the other side of
The extensive range.

Even so, it’s such a
Beautiful place to sit.

More when the made
Of fat and skinny and
Happy and sad and
Continuous life
Is there to observe
The sunset that
Changes the sapphire
Blues to flaming oranges

Ready to be taught by
The twilights of the
Most unfortunate and
The seducers.

A dark tunnel
Where the Young
Women jog
And the cows
And the pigs
Have tasted blood
And the morning sun
Is taking a little
Longer to come up.

Tunnel
that can only
Be traverse with
Experience and
Burning cinnamon.

And oh, evil one.
The night will cast an
Eternal veil.

And what an enormous,
And eternal night this is.

What a lonely night.

And evil one,
Between the burning sea
And the pale morning,
You’ll find the quiet
Of husks and dead fish,
Trembling foam of
Retreating waters,
And messages in bottles
Never read before.

And silence will come
Wrapped in a blanket,
Galloping on beach *****
And flying machines that
Leave faster than they go.

It’ll cure the absence of warmth
While the days, the months,
The time passes by.

The morning will come,
Brandishing celestial blood,
Turning the sea ablaze.

To let you know,
That you have escaped
Once more.

No te he tenido mucho,
pero ya siento tu ausencia.

Mis ojos recorren calles,
buscándote en cada esquina,

Ojos que conocieron
tus mejillas
mucho antes
que mis manos
tuvieron tus caderas,
ardientes en un mar
de carne y migajas de pan.

En tu piel,
color café con leche,
me ahogaba
mientras te observaba.

Y, si somos honestos,
amor mío,
nunca te he tenido,
ni cerca, ni lejos.

Tal vez,
nunca te tendré.
Pero cuánto te anhelo.

Te llevaste
las lluvias de mayo
y trajiste
flores de loto
a lagos ya rebosantes.

Sembraste girasoles
que se alimentan
de la luz
en tu sonrisa.

Te llevaste
el dolor de mis piernas
para que pudiera andar,
vagabundo,
bajo las sombras
de la luna llena
en tu pelo.

Amor mío,
hoy te tuve cerca,
pero te fuiste,
y no sé qué hacer
con mis ojos.

I call my grandma
Mama Myriam,

She’s my dads mom,
So I didn’t spend

Much time with her
Growing up

That doesn’t matter
To her when I call,

She talks as if she
Loves unconditionally,

So difficult to understand,
But the time goes on.

And she tell stories,
Not the ones in books

But the ones that make
Her scars ache,

And I listen,
Attentive,  

Patient,
Quiet,

As the city outside
Rumbles the windows,

And my furniture
Decays where it stands,

She tells her stories,
With a cat on her lap,

You can almost hear
The purrs through

The phone,
And what stories she tells,

About love, and life,
And betrayal, and abuse,

What a life she has lived,
She thanks me for listening,

With an “I love you”
As I ready up to hang up,

No, Mamá,
Thank you.

Oh father,
Sit in your throne
Of lies and rejoice,
Life has sat me down
In the dark
With a gun to my
Head, loaded with
The truth.

I stand here wrapped in
the dark of morning
the firefly lights
Bounce color into my retina,
Twisting and turning
The dark shade
of green of the trees
Around me.

And, as the shadows
of morning lightens up,
Buildings color
my peripherals,
Success and failures
of other people
Stand high and low.

A jungle of Melodies,
That intertwine
with what I’m feeling,
Spider webs left
behind gloom over,
Empty, empty and Sad.

I can’t seem to get out,
Thoughts that follow
me everywhere I go
Are starting
to come out,
like cobwebs of
a spider who
lost his way
Vacant for the
next person to fill,
I run and I trip
And I get up
When I just
want to lay down.

I miss the moments
in my life
Where it felt
so obvious,
Like I’ve lived
this before,
So easy as if
it was pumping
Through my veins,
Just like walking,
Just like running,
Just like breathing.

There’s a new black cat
Running around my
Apartment complex,
Where has it been?

My mind murmurs,
As the cat yawns
By the street light,
Distracted, as if it
Know I’m watching.

I turn on
My cigarette from
The filter,
A subtle sacrifice
Slipping through
My fingers,

The cat is no
Longer here.
It’s gone.
The night swallows
It silhouette
In silence.
Maybe it was never
Meant to stay.

I sit a while,
As everything slips,
The smoke,
The silence,
The cat,

Even memories
Have soft edges now,
Faces blur,
The color of eyes,
Smiles and
laughs.

Like breath on a mirror,
Vanishing before the
Night turns old.

Still, I wait a little
Longer just in case
It comes back.

I realize two things
As I’m walking down
Memorial city mall,
I remember every
Corner store,
Every turn and
Candy store,
I remember my
Legs trembling
Through multitude
Of people walking
Down the enormous
Open hall, nervous,
Holding tight onto
The hands of
A lost love,
As my insides
Twisted and turned,
My mind clutters
Like the house
Of a hoarder who’s
Passion is collecting
Misfortune and bad
Decisions,
Also, there’s no Barnes
And noble in here,
How unfortunate.

As I drive besides
The bayou,
Under cold
Plagued trees,
Thoughts of swinging hammocks
In the midst of humid heat
Pushes through
every other thought,
Francisco swings on the
Second hammock
That sits a little deeper
Into the the skeleton
Of a concrete house
That begs to be built,
Abandoned but not,
He’s probably high
Off his mind,
Classes are passing by,
The moment was now,
And what a way to
Spend it.

Ay mi vida,
las sombras
Se an acostumbrado
A cantar tu nombre
En días calientes
Y pegajosos,
Yo las busco
Para sentarme
A su lado
Y escucharlo
De alguien más
Que no sea mi
Boca, y mis labios
Tiemblan y océanos
Llenan mis ojos
Mientras la oscuridad
Canta una sinfonía
Que no sale de mi
Mente.

I’ve been
caught
in the rain,
near a field
of Indian
blankets
that runs by
a river caused
by the
precipitation,
the moon
drowns
underneath
the currents,
I can hear
her bubbled
screams as
the water
sweeps
the ground
with
an anger
of a
thousand
and the
attitude of
a tired mother
that just
got back
home to
see the
dishes
haven’t
been done,
and the
chicken
hasn’t
been
brought
down
from
the freezer,
so Tired
of the
baggy
eyes,
I’m
thinking
I should
jump,
and
help out
for once.

Every morning,
when the city still sleeps,
and skyscrapers glow softly
against the dark canvas,
I drive through
its quiet pulse,
finding a strange solace
in the mundane.

The beauty of the artificial
like catching the gaze
of someone you love,
their eyes familiar,
or cradling a warm cup of coffee
on a bitter winter morning.

Don’t get me wrong,
my mind still wrestles
with suicide notes,
drafts of nothingness
beyond death,
or whispers of
reincarnation.

But I’ve been learning
to linger in the sunlight,
to cherish a good conversation
with someone twice my age,
to lose myself, head nodding,
to a new album
on the drive home.

Maybe it isn’t so bad,
even if, some days,
it feels like
they’re winning.

I want you
To hold still
Like a statue
In a museum,

Everyone will
Stop to look
at your silhouette
While basking
In your shadow,

They’ll drop
Flowers and wine
At your feet
As offerings,

And your beauty
Will reach the rims
Of the ears
Of emperors
Across the oceans

And the seas
And the rivers,
All bodies of
Water separate
In your presence,

But here you are,
Anxiously walking
From side to side,
Searching for what
Shouldn’t be searched for,

My love,
Please sit still,
Let me adore
The ground
That you stand on,

With flower petals
From a dying rose
That I’ve been holding
For so long,

I’ll reach deep within
My chest, and with
Bloodied hands
I’ll place my heart
At your feet.

I imagine it
must be interesting,
Lovely even,
To be able
To grow old
With someone.