La libertad es tu legado,
Comprada con tu preciosa vida,
Lejos de casa y de la familia,
En guerras sabias e imprudentes.

Camino a la luz gracias a ti,
Enseño, escribo, hablo, pienso sin miedo,
Y nuestra bandera vuela libre sin tocar el suelo,
Faro de esperanza a través de los años.

Estoy orgulloso de nuestra bandera,
Mi mano sobre el corazón mientras canto,
Nuestro himno nacional,
Mientras mi voz se agrieta y los ojos lagrimean.

Siempre me emociono,
No de orgullo tonto y vacío,
Sino porque en ella veo,
Tu sacrificio conmovedor.

La libertad no viene de un deseo,
Ni la paz de las oraciones por sí solas,
Viene de soldados como tú,
Que desinteresadamente lo dieron todo.

Te llevo en mi corazón,
Todos los días de cada año,
La deuda que te debo no puede ser,
Paga con palabras ni con lágrimas.

Descansa en paz, amado muerto,
Que Dios te conceda honores debidos,
Hoy voy a enarbolar nuestra bandera,
Y en ella siempre te veré a ti.

Redemption

What if a long-dead beauty,
Let you see your failings in life,
Would you fight for redemption?


Modern Art and the Critics

How do we know that what hangs,
On modern art galleries now,
Merits our calling it art?

The above hakus are teasers for two short stories by the
same names that you can download free until May 31
but only at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1138974

When seeking knowledge occupies your mind,
Start close to home, and wisdom you may find.

Cast hubris out, and then truth will appear,
You may not know it, but it's always near.

Look not to the horizon to find truth,
Lest there you find only your wasted youth.

Obey the golden rule, my friend,
But not by rust gilded with words,
Like politicians feed the herds,
That have no value in the end.

There is no parsing of the rule,
Not for those who are honor bound,
Let kindness, helpfulness abound,
Even when others call you fool.

When others scorn you, show them love,
I know it's not easy to do,
But your kindness will shine through,
To them and to your God above.

If you sow bitterness you'll reap,
A bitter harvest in due time,
To reap a harvest that's sublime,
Sow only kindness, take that leap.

Obey the golden rule your whole life through,
It may not save the world, but may save you.

I've read some poems I'd written long ago,
Tenderly kept by one I love most dear,
And through them I've come to once again know,
Old feelings which inspired both warmth and fear.

For a moment I saw my love revived,
And was engulfed by growing tenderness,
There was much power in words which survived,
To pay mute homage to past happiness.

Yellowing, crinkled paper brought to me,
Glimpses of young, unbridled, simple love,
The awkward, fading words helped me to see,
That I have lived the dream I'm dreaming of.

How can I feel this painful emptiness,
When by enduring love I am so blessed?

The world is my oyster,
Though it is three days dead,
Malodorous coffin,
Lined in mother of pearl,
Concealing no treasure,
Not a perfect large pearl,
Just my flesh-covered bones,
And the dreams I once dreamed,
That died while yet I lived,
And hoped they might be born.

Government can take your land,
Confiscate your property,
Tax your earnings into dust,
Deprive you of your freedom,
Extinguish your very life.

But the knowledge you acquire,
And the honor that you earn,
Are a treasure they can't steal,
Tax, redistribute, destroy.

Governments come and they go,
Just and unjust ones alike,
And fade from memory in time.

Entropy rules in this world,
And the brightest lights fade out.

Knowledge and honor perdure.

**** Sapiens Sapiens,
Are at the top of the food chain.

We would do well to remember,
Long ago, so were dinosaurs.

When conformity,
Is imposed by government,
Tyranny has won.

If freedom of thought,
Comes at the cost of one's life,
It is worth the price.

El mal triunfará,
Cuando neciamente nos negamos,
A llamarlo por su nombre.

Two decades passed since my first book of poems,
It was past time to publish volume two,
The sands of time weigh heavy on my bones,
And my road narrows with yet much to do.

Too many friends have now passed through the veil,
As have my parents and their siblings all,
My circle narrows, empty now my vale,
In sleepless nights I can but hear their call.

So many dreams deferred that now have died,
My negligence bereft them of their life,
So many doors left closed I should have tried,
No hope remains for me or for my wife.

Even my music echoes distant, dull,
But poetry can for a time pain lull.

____
If you would like to download a free copy of the eBook version of my second book of poems, Echoes of Dawn at Dusk, you can do so only at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1035449 until June 20, 2022.

Tus ojos vidriados me miraban,
Sin reconocimiento,
Pero ahora lo ves todo.

Las malas ideas no mueren,
Prosperan como hongos en la oscuridad,
Desarráigalas con luz.

A three-ring circus,
No animals/acrobats,
Just pathetic clowns.

With tender care the gardener plants her seeds,
Pregnant with hidden beauty yet to be,
Tends it with loving toil the season through,
Reaps the reward in May of glorious blooms.

Far more than flowers grow for all to see,
Civic pride, hope, inspiration bloom there too.

I quest for meaning,
Knowing it's not mine to find,
Yet the quest goes on.

A carnival ride,
Of limitless potential,
With little control.

We choose to keep the homeless out of sight,
As though they'd vanish if we do not look,
It's easy to ignore their sorry plight,
Treat them as lesser humans God forsook.

We easily dismiss the luckless few,
Though there but for God's grace may go we all,
Yet hubris blinds us to what we once knew,
Before our childhood's end, before our fall.

How different to us the world would seem,
If we knew billions worshipped each of us,
Unheard, unseen, their fates not ours to glean,
The least of us, in fact, a world en masse.

If kings and paupers both are just the same,
Denying each dignity is insane.

Las aguas plácidas fluyen,
Perezosamente este día de verano,
Pero oigo las cataratas.

Pandemic home bound,
Completed my first novel,
Begun decades past

What was dead revived,
Sleepless nights spent writing it,
In two months complete.

Wanted an agent,
But pandemic made it hard,
To get a response.

So went indie route,
Published hard cover and soft,
But too few have read.

So I decided,
To make it available,
Free of charge online.

Never meant to make,
Profits from this work of mine,
Just wanted it read.

It is a story,
That others should know,
About higher ed.

Drama, love, humor,
Triumph, life altering loss,
Sacrifice for naught?

You can buy it, yes,
But now also read it free,
At the link below.

Will post it complete,
With Echoes of the Mind's Eye,
Latest short stories.

Click the link below,
To access both books free,
English / Spanish--both.

https://www.royalroad.com/profile/368939/fictions

A beautiful woman is awakened,
By an off-world visitor with a plea,
With enticing compensation promised,
If she will render a simple service.

Compensation would be two priceless gifts,
No humans possess and few would pass up.
Say yes, and the world could be her oyster,
Her high ambitions within easy reach.

Should she accept? And if she does, will she,
Attain all that she craves, or tragedy?

The holidays approach with quiet grace,
Floating above the merchandising din,
Their spirit fills our hearts, their proper place,
Displacing hate, greed, envy, and all sin.

Whether you worship Jesus, as I do,
Allah, YHWH, or other Deity,
That teaches justice, honor, all things true,
We are family joined in piety.

Those who would divide us worship no god,
They worship power, seek not grace or truth,
They sow the seeds of hate on fertile sod,
The minds of fools and our innocent youth.

I bid you peace in all your holidays,
May God’s light burn true paths through evil’s haze.

By losing we win,
When pride is the only prize,
In our loved one's eyes

Coding will set you free,
Repair, rework, renew, reinvent ruinous reality,
Into a multiverse where reason reigns and creativity flourishes.

Excise the tired, mundane, mind-numbing predictability of the real,
Transform it into a rebooted reality that erases every flaw,
Expiates original sin and finally frees humanity from its anchor to clay.

Soar on the winds of possibility to heights undreamed of,
With wings not of feathers and wax impervious to the sun,
Then cut the cord of existence and live forever in a perfect world.

Does true love exist,
Or do we simply dream it,
To fill empty lives?

And if it is real,
Do we see it with our hearts,
Or just with our eyes?

Can we ever tell,
Self-delusion from true love,
And does it matter?

Should we not embrace,
A chance for shared joy when found,
If it does no harm?

Believe in true love,
Hope and dream and strive for it,
If it's not yet yours.

It gives life meaning,
Makes all our pain bearable,
Keeps away despair.

Mistakes are the tools,
The Creator provides us,
To sculpt our own souls.

Peaches from my tree,
Eaten by deer every fall,
Before I pick them.

Little, cuddly, smart,
And in the fullness of time,
He will move mountains.

Intentionally,
Avoiding productive work,
No guilt, no way, nope.

Some say dark matter,
Holds galaxies together,
In the endless void.

In smallest doses,
Kindness keeps humanity,
From drifting apart.

Its powerful force,
Our shield in darkest of times,
Against entropy.

Out of many one,
Held together by selfless,
Small acts of kindness.

Work is a true joy,
When it involves your passion,
Choose careers wisely.

Of your time on earth,
Much will be spent preparing,
For work and working.

Make your life's work count,
By choosing meaningful work,
Leave something behind.

Las arenas del tiempo fluyen,
Cayendo hacia el olvido,
dejando algo atrás.

I am unworthy, Lord,
And yet You love me.

I am a sinner,
And yet may be redeemed.

I try to walk in the light,
And yet at times walk in darkness.

I fight despair,
And yet it lives and thrives.

I know that I know nothing,
And yet I am not wise.

I know the best in me lies buried,
And yet it may still rise.

I know hope is a dream,
And yet it will not die.

No escribo por dinero,
Y aún menos por fama,
Escribo porque tengo que hacerlo,
Es simplemente quien soy.

Soy competente en muchos oficios,
Con maestría en algunos,
Pero no me definen,
Es simplemente lo que hago.

Lo que escribo no perdurará,
Gran parte no se leerá,
Poco de lo que publico,
sobrevivirá mucho tiempo cuando muera.

Yo escribiría si nadie me leyera,
En tinta, en la arena o en sangre,
Mientras la razón perdure,
Sé que no voy a parar.

Es así para todos quienes somos,
Escritores en nuestro núcleo,
Escribir es nuestra esencia,
Es lo que somos, nada más.

¿Por qué me han dejado, dulces viejos sueños de mi juventud?
Me esforcé tanto por mantenerlos en mi corazón,
¿Dónde han huido, la fe, honestidad y verdad?
¿O eran sólo visiones desde el principio?

¿Escucho música en lo más profundo de mi alma?
¿O burlantes ecos de un tiempo pasado?
Las ascuas aún resplandecen, aunque estoy envejeciendo,
Pero se oscurecen y se enfrían, al igual que mi rima.

Cada momento que pasa desgasta mi esperanza,
Al igual que las arenas en el viento la piedra del desierto,
Sinfonías que se desvanecen a una sola nota,
Dejándome vacío, amargado y solo.

No me apena mi vida; Tengo más sentido común,
Lamento una pérdida mucho mayor, mi inocencia.

An excess of pride,
Paves the road to perdition,
As does want of it.

Mi gran ambición,
Que todos mis alumnos,
Brillen mas que yo.

Fledgling,
Broken wing,
Carefully nursed,
Shielded,
Nourished,
Loved,
Healthy again,
Vantablack wings,
Powerfully beating,
Propelled skyward,
Fueled by,
Benefactor's eyes.

Most prized Christmas gift,
Humble table, a meal shared,
With loved ones still here.

El río de la vida,
Fluye por un rato,
Y muy pronto seca.

Míralo desde la orilla,
Desde la seguridad de la tierra firme,
Y nunca te ahogarás.

Pero si te sumerges en el,
Navegas los rápidos fluviales, arriesgas las cataratas,
Flotas en sus curvas plácidas.

Conoceras la alegría,
De paisajes en constante cambio,
Más que vale la pena el riesgo.

Te rasparan las rocas,
No encontraras sombra contra el sol,
Y poco tiempo para el descanso.

Cuando las aguas se secan,
Y llegas al final de tu viaje,
Realmente habrás vivido.

You may lose your head,
Dragon, skin, or maidenhead,
Sure you want to play?

Remembering Our Fallen on Memorial Day

Freedom is your legacy,
Paid for with your precious life,
Far from home and family,
In wars both wise and unwise.

I walk in light thanks to you,
Teach, write, speak, think without fear,
And our flag flies proud and true,
Beacon of hope through the years.

I stand proudly for our flag,
Hand over heart as I sing,
Our Anthem whene’r it plays,
As my voice cracks and eyes tear.

Emotions run high for me,
Not from empty foolish pride,
But because in her I see,
Your most poignant sacrifice.

Freedom comes not from its wish,
Nor peace from prayers on their own,
They come from soldiers like you,
Who selflessly gave their all.

I carry you in my heart,
Every day of every year,
The debt I owe you cannot,
Be repaid in words or tears.

Rest in peace, beloved dead,
May God grant you honors due,
Today I will fly our flag,
And in it always see you.
Death of a Quiet Soldier


Death of a Quiet Soldier

Behind enemy lines you gave your life,
The risks you knew and embraced willingly,
Red, black and green berets fought by your side,
And brought your body back to family.

Later in a ritual of their own,
They would name a field airport in your name,
And honor you, your brothers, far from home,
Their memory now your eternal flame.

I do not know your rank, your name, your face,
I only know that I am in your debt,
Who for your family can take your place?
Our debt to them we must never forget.

The freedom I enjoy comes thanks to you,
And all who serve with honor, proud and true.

The thoughtless pursuit,
Of any task throughout life,
Will never end well.

Capturing meaning,
From life's flowing tapestry,
Rendered in one frame.

You won't change the world,
Regardless how hard you try,
Work to change yourself.

Can our dreams **** us?
One man finds they can and leaves
A warning and proof.