A hole grew inside my heart.
I could not fill it.
It's abysmal darkness
Ate away the light,
Took the joy from
Moments.
Your voice fills the hole,
A sun burst inside,
And your company
Is a rain of smiles on the
Empty fire.
           You leave,
The day sets within me,
There within my heart
The hole begins again;
       Your smile is
   The moonlight in the dark.

Policeman:
You, hands above your head,
Turn around, no sudden movements.

Black man:
Officer I......

Policeman:

Shutup, on your knees, hands behind,
Your head!

Blackman: Sir I....

Policeman:

   Shut the **** up! (Taser pointed)
-Handcuffs the black man -

Policeman:
Now, what did you want to say sir?

Be wide awake
In your dreams,
    Speak softly
    When yelled at,
Take the time to take some
Time,
     Dont worry til your sick,
Be sick of being worried,
    Try to turn the other check
When it's a slap on the ****,
    Sing in the shower
When everyone is home,
     Leave the flowers alone-
   Pick on your nose instead,
Bewise beyond your years
  Before your years are beyond you,
    Read a poem instead of writing one,
        Become a poet by living one.

The day advances,
Goes round and retreats
Arriving infinitely:

     The calm of a poet does
Not exist,
The words appear with urgency
Behind a chaos of thoughts
Flowing like water,
Spilling the prophecy of no one.
      The journey is the density
Of humanity whose misery
Shines with brilliance like
A moon full of itself,
   They go appearing and disappearing
Like happiness under shadow,
They make no presence except
Being in the moment,
Even now there is a drunk
Homeless man singing under
Shade of life's tree;

Life's tree which branches
To find the light in the darkness,
Which spews seeds of hope
Filling the abyss,
The same skies which petrify
The man in the repetitions of
Days , the days of sorrow,
The days of light, the days
Of moments, under the same sun.

I journey through the minds
In galleries of people that resonate
Understanding, words that heal,
Words that begin and words
Making all transparent,
We have become mirrors that falter
Within the self ,dissolving dreams.

I go within my eyes,
Eyes that remember a river
Of bodies that flowed into a
Lake of my touch, passionate waters
Celebrated in a mystery of lust,
The looks of your eyes reflect
All that is real, you are a memory
Distinguished like cherries,
Red like a falling sun,
You are the edict of magical
Thoughts on the Autumnal night
We wore the colors of our desires;

I tear myself apart
To make naked thoughts come to
Life, among all the waters,
Among all the fires, like a bird
With wings of fire burning
The air I breathe, I conquest my
Dreams, fulfilled by words;

The words fateful and careful,
A harvest of pain,
A field of sorrow,
All that makes sense,
I go upon them as if
Leaving my body to the moon
Imagining better, better, better,
The words shower like rain
And the liquid runs deep into
The thirst, being born, they make
All that was, they make all that
Hopes to be and fills the skies
With wishful stars shedding life
Upon itself.

I come face to face with myself,
Poet whose passion is deeper
Than his talent, whose words echo
Like repetitions of poets past,
They are all i have, all i need ,
I write alone, no one is here,
The day ends, the light ends:

The night advances
Goes round and retreats
Arriving infinitely.

I move from the shadows
    To your intrinsic body:

My touch
     Dissolving
         Like the horizon,
The radiant pulses throughout
     Like scattered embers
Under celestial forests,
     Light and dark dance
Like a hymn of the solstice;
    Touch,
Naked light,
     Bodies of elliptical passion;
The light in your eyes
Makes the love we make real.

To the North, a broken dream remembers,
To the South, lost memories,
To the East, what will never be,
To the west, a rain of embers.

To the North, fallen angels crying
To the South, tears of sorrows,
To the east, not looking for tomorrow,
To the West, hopes are dying.

Maybe the direction, or the pain,
Might trace the place
Of my tears of rain;

A spinning compass eats me inside,
Looking for myself,
Nowhere left to hide.

I am in a room filled with language,
       My life is in another room
Identical
    Depopulated by the world,
The verbiage overflowing,
    One day it is love,
The next, a draft of storms.
     Sorrows,
The million year old emotions.
    Poems come and go
As I decay in the syllables,
   Enormous verses,
The horizon breaks down,
    Lights lightened,
The sky gathers at my window,
     I get more and more secluded,
And the words petrify in my eyes....
    
    The spectre of the unwritten.

First Encounter

A beginning
      A seedling
Fertile youth
        Ageless gaze;
By passion they were found,
    And by passion they were lost.

*---------*

    Holding Hands

Buried with touch
    Amidst a new language.
The world beats
    Pulsating claritys,
Falling confusions,
      Dreaming awake....

*--------*

    Smiling For Him

Embers of hope
    Shedding darkness,
A surge of feeling
    Insisting existence:
The soul alive!

*--------*

         First Kiss

Flames of magnetic touch,
   Fire knots in the stomach,
Without words
    Wet syllables speak
Unlacing Passion's verbiage.

*---------**

    Saying I Love You

Children of the dust
    Reach a balance
Within the universe;
Destiny unfurls
In a creation of words
Speaking like children of God.

I don't belong here,
Got to get away;
Poet, close your eyes:

The fire at the head of a verse
Takes me where verbs and stars
Collide,
(And the girl whose ancient name
Is fire)
Black rose consoler of sorrows,
My worries ride the sky today,
      Brilliant nocturnal fool
      I can see all the words escape
      A collision with atmosphere,
Flocked with hope
It gathers steam towards
The kiss of the quarter moon;
Your name is HOPE.
   I nail my dreams to sky black
   Bridging the gaps in the abyss,
   I catch a ride with the tail
    Of a comet's tears
   And endure its loneliness like
   A broth of nourishing sacrifice:

     "Take my hand dear poet,
    Your words are embers
     On a midsummer harvest"
    And the world froze beneath
     It's cylindrical tail
      As the wheel of days did not
     Revolve;

I became a solar sorrow,
My dreams burst into sunflowers
In a flame of words
Bursting itself from my soul,
Each night as the world
Becomes too much,
I escape and the poem takes
Me away.

It's hot and hell is here,
The labyrinth of the city sets
The stage for stray kids getting lost,
Impoverished and too young to ***.
The street lights shed a new dark
When the boy needs shoes
To compete in friendship status,
A gun to another kid
With shiny news who just learned
The advantage of fear,
How can he afford a gun?
No phone for the hungry
Unless hungered for enough
To steal a call and surround
The angst of acceptance for social
Well-being,
When lost crows run to shadows,
A flightlessness casts itself
On the summertime kid
Awaiting his own arrival.

Behind myself in every shadow
I become aware of reflection,
That I am alone inside my unique-
Being the author of my deception.

A galloping dead horse breathing
Down my back startling,
A swelling comes into play when I
Decide the harder thing.

The superior memory scams
My day forward,
Closing doors I walk
Toward.

Ghost external plays
A quivering chill,
I rest upon a hard earned sorrow,
There I lose my will.

When I retreat into myself
I reap the sky like a mountain
To a cloud,
The rainbow arch of sun rise in my eyes,
Because sometimes I just
Need to be alone,
I hide my dream's failures
In the words like a string
Of pearls sorrow,
The secrets of of my inner most,
When the outer seems too far,
Like the soft touch of a man
In darkness,
I plead the sadness with my imagination,
I hide behind the skies,
Pain becomes tender,
Just now I begin to believe
There is a better place....

Alone I hear the laughter of the
Dead beneath the earth.

Standing ***** under the sun,
Not unlike a Mother tree
And the eager bird
With branches that sway
As if a maestro for the wind
And more free than said bird.

Familiar with family
And independence as though
A miracle uplifting with arms
Wide open tearing down barriers
While tightroping the abyss.

Mistress of the enchantment,
Absolute in her walk,
A lovely vessel of humanity,
A rose infinitely budding,
The soil of the earth.

Forgotten strengths,
Healing the world with actions,
Wiping tears and setting the
Child's dream,
Clear as the light in her eyes.

She is the Andromeda
Of the love story,
The story is of her love,
The divinity which filters
Men from boys.

Caress of the world,
That which causes flight
Or the love that eases pain
From the fall,
Redeemer of lives.

She roars without sound,
Navigator of skies unseen,
Weaving the songs of life,
The wondrous simplicity.

She is more than the rib,
Under the sun
She is Goddess in the children's eyes.

Glorious suffering,
Born among the mysterious poor,
Shredding darkness with tiny
Bits of light that illuminate minutes,
The crests of moments, colorful,
Spreading across a grateful soul,
A manifestation of grace in poverty,
Streets of the nocturnal
that disperse into industrial days
Where they sweat the blood
And honor their young,
The poor have secret places
Gathering in the heart,
A rhythmic harmony in the simplicity,
They hear the birds,
Embrace the wind
And kiss the sorrows goodnight.

If you want to get into the society
You must die to yourself
And swallow alot of pride,
The education is interminable.

Here is what you must do:

Become authentic and genuine,
Speak as the world speaks as
If it were from another planet,
Be shiny in your darkness,
Consult with other dead poets,
Know the difference between
A haiku and a senryu
And not count syllables on your
Hands,
Fall in love but be aware
Your heart will be astonishingly
Broken,
Carry a pen and paper even
If you are going to the lake.

And if you have loved and lost
I suggest the following:

Read a book in the middle of a park,
Look dignified while doing so,
Walk around in soliloquy,
Bite your nails in public
As you write;
This suggests a deep thinking
Moment is occurring;
Talk on the phone at home
With a new friend for hours.

If you really want to be
In the society
You must know how to dance
When there is no music,
Wipe your nose with the inside
Of your shirt,
Laugh at the abyss of life,
Cry at the grandiosity
Of time,
Look in a mirror and have a staring
Contest,
**** the paper you write on
With sonnets about ***.

Remember also that you must
Conquest the metaphor and allusions
Of yourself,
This involves but is not limited to:

Falling for a circus acrobat,
**** roaches and then write the
Experience as a poem,
Become part of a vicious cycle
The break it,
Able to appear and disappear
On demand,
Kiss a baby that isn't yours,
Ask a newly married person
For their phone number,
Go to the Pyramids of Egypt
And see what the big deal is,
Cross the street using only
Your peripheral vision,
And finally to become a full
Fledged member,
Well that one is easy,
We all do it anyway.....

.....Let your soul shed it's poetry.

Dozing the life in worthless ink:
It is the ink that calls forth something
Deeper hurling itself forth from
The depths of everything that is
   You Poet,
          You Poetess.
Your thoughts that gallop and gallop
As your you birth inklings but fill
Nothing and return to stagnant water.
    
A second ago your poem had
A hundred hearts that cheered
And the words were over their faces
As the rootless poem of me, me ,me
Was given and the lightning was
Given out of habitual commonality.
    
I invite you dig up Rage!

Rage, not only against the dying
Of the light,
For yesterday is tomorrow's
Memory, tomorrow is today,
I invite you not to die of death,
     But to die of life!
Fill the words with rage,
That of the current event that
Moves nations, birth the poem
Of sacrifice, become the metaphorical
Martyr, you are a Poet Saint!
Rage,
    Deep in the immense crystalline
    Soul that cries to fill the void,
Become the tree firmly rooted
But still dances with the fury
Of the wind!
Rage,
   Speak the truth of the world,
   Fight with words of the inequality for
   Those that cannot speak,
   Become their rage!
Rage,
   There a homeless child
   With no lucky star of her own,
   And the words will fill you,
   They will devour the abyss
   And you will rage against
   The flowering of nothing's bloom!!
Rage,
   Dig deep and see the world
    With words that become differences,
    With a shining of the light
    Where darkness was before,
Rage,
   And the words will become you,
   The poet and the sacrifice,
   So be it if the poem only has
   Two hearts, unpopular as it
   May seem, it is a reflection
   Of the guilt they carry.
Rage,
   You Poet,
You Poetess,
    The world needs Poet Saints.

Reading,
         Reading you,
Reading me:
Symphonic emotional intelligence,
Words like a violinist.
    I carry them with me
Inside my mind applying reality,
       The unreality passsing out of me.
The poems speak like see through natures,
The clarity of my discombobulation.
      You all become real.

   Archives of the souls
    Instantaneous connection
        Closer than
Touch:
Your words resonance with every
Fiber of my being.
    Your words
Invent more words,
    Your emotions tie
The world's shoestrings,
    The experience shared
Is a reality of musical theatre
    And it kills the silence,
The silence of the mind.
     Your words are movement,
Be it from a past,
     The metaphysical dance,
A kiss of gentle air,
    The idea is a life living
Recovering from the enigmatic plague
Of ignorance.
    Though I see the bird sing
My heart stops when it I hear it
Through your words;
    Connectivity.
Reading is not reading,
    It is saying what your silence says,
Art becoming life in an echo of YOU.
       The words that I understand:
Yes, the pain is also a gesture of reality,
     It lets us know it was real,
Your tears,
      Your secrets,
           The murmured past,
And as I read it becomes as the
Sun on morning dew.
   Beginnings,
Endings,
    You become apart of me,
I become part of you,
      Not words
But music in the silence.
And the moment will come
When you hear it too:

The poetry:
Crystalline humanity.

Between us:
A mirror, a desk, a wardrobe,
My self and you, a bed and the
Enormous night.
There are moons splintered, a sleeping
Star, further still the morning.
There are dogs barking, a short wind
As you've taken the evening's breath,
The slow cooling of the earth
As birds humm and crickets chirp.
Between us the thirst that dwells
Under your caressing,
The distance is hard and slow,
A suffered savor of the momentum
Dragging each other slowly
Towards the living Waters that
Liquid lovers two, becoming one.
Your body wears my touch
And my soul inside your glance.
I die into you, you into me
At the precipice of sunrise.
Our names are far away,
Your transparent gown in the
Phosphorus glow.
Your eyes between is a great distance,
All that I ever hope to see;
Between your thighs an hour
And a thousand kisses.
I find that the distance between us
Is the love deeper than the abyss
Of the skies,
Between your ******* the distance between
Is the heart that beats rhythmic
To my soul,
Inside you we lose all flesh,
Between us souls.
Defenseless night,
Between us everything and nothing.

In the eye of we the peoples,
    In the overblown blasphemous
Political whirlwind,
    We have dug up Rage:
In the empty theatrical deities
     The idols explode
And spit on the origins of forefathers,
      In love with their own *****
The fountain of verbiage overflowing with
     Truncated quotations,
The people leeches become sharpened
By lies and pockets filled
By industrious rats,
     These juggling ideologies
Play the frustration of the suffering
    Like strings on a stained violin,
     Paradise of caged freedoms,
Stairway of repetitions,
   They paint Messiah over
Their foreheads,
We drink of the fountains
Of bitter water,
We crown the snakes and surprisingly
Ideally we are shocked
To be bitten.
    The fire speaks words of water
And the river ends in a fall,
     Canes and Abels,
Over and over ,
Into the storm we run,
Spinning darkness from light,
     As we drink
We must ask:

Where is the other water?

Poetry,
         Suspended moments between
    My truth and
   The truth lived.
A stillness in motion,
      A path of action like history,
Only the truth is to be it,
To walk it and ressurect it
In the words.
     I am in my body
Knowing myself outside
In a sea of pages.
    My poetry scatters,
The ghosts remain:
      Poetry is a shared fury,
      A shared oblivion,
      My sorrowful song
Hidden deep in my Mother's womb
The unspoken part of my birth,
     Retracing the lineage
Between seeing and believing,
    Writing the constellated persons,
A torrent of memory,
A melody of love,
I close my eyes
     And the words of my blood,
Footsteps of my words,
     My pen covered in a quarter moon
Translucent like a fountain of night,
     Poem that travels through me,
Scatters into the ink,
    Words spoken
Reverberating quietly into eternal
        Whispers.

In the streets of sunrise his
Name is unknown.

Blend of dirt and vagrant
Under said bridges.
     Lowly
Living under storms.
    Stillness of hunger,
Sad, sorrowful,so wise.

    We will sit in rooms
Upon the chairs with laptops,
     Filtering his memory
That no Google search will find,
     He has no screen name.

The only backup memory
Inside his faceless book.

I stood upon the horizon
As the sun crowned the day,
The people became beautiful,
Each in their own momentary truth:

The sun star rose
And the light mounted the sea,
The livid wound that is man and woman
Became a broken statue in stone
Flawed by time and suffering;
Death in a time of life!

     In the city an ebony man
     Holds the pyramid at the bottom
     Of the scheme, he is unearthed
     By a bullet not colorblind,
     The song of a lost boy from
     The wonderful ghetto explodes
     And a stone is thrown.

The ripples are;
Eyes see, man feels
His heart yearns for better or
Something more, all he can turn
To is less, shadows of history link
Themselves in a chain and drag
Man into himself, there a giant
Mirror hovers over his sky.

    New York, Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh.
    Shadow cover the heart and man
    Becomes a feverish animal
    That swarms himself,
    Proud and lonesome I see below
    His heart  and money uprooted his
    His natural flow
    (Domesticated bipeds acting out like
    Four legged beasts, though sadly
    Man knows it and does what?)

And yet there birthed within himself
Was given a gift so lovely as the forms
That man throbs with hope;
Stretching the heart into the living
hour man can see the light,
Truth comes into being
And fills himself with an ironic
Harmony. Here, now, we will
Never be this beautiful again,
The beauty is heavy with minutes
As each fade into eternity's
Shimmering river.

    Man's thoughts are split,
    They meander, think something
    Wondrous and split again
    Becoming entangled in a
    Delta of endless rivers flowing
    With the actions of ignorance.
    Must the rush of life be lived
    So rushed?

Day after day,
His mind cannot embody the forms,
The hostility grinding at each other,
The mirror inside liquefied
Into hopelessness and the body
Of his body becomes a tree
Of actions, risen out history's
Roots, roots which lay seeds,
Seeds which become his actions.

"If you live long enough in the dark,
          You can see and appreciate
                  Everything in the light"

                       Dedpoet

What voice would reach you,
People who speak destruction,
With end time tones or in
The poetry of Bukowski?
So primitive in modern times,
Simple and complex;
Angels and demons.

You are the people,
Future devastation of our
Children with its spilling blood
And still praying to some peace
Loving god.

You are strong but empty,
Proud by unsure,
Cultured and diverse,
You oppose:
One another.

You are ****** and Jesus,
Mohamed and Napoleon,
Breaking the world and healing
The sick,
(You are your own worst enemy,
And your only friend)

You think life is ******,
That progress is martyrdom,
That the future is not on this
World;
             Yes.

You people are grand and powerful,
Whenever a belief is found
A profound shudder of ideals
Shakes the world,
And an enormous backbone
Of righteousness in the name of;
And the stars are yours,
Wether in hope or in a last dying glance
Before death,
Wealth and prosperity
Join faith and religion
To conquest one another,
Raising reason to live, to die.

You have consulted God
Which preserve your right to make
And destroy and to ****,
The footprints of blood money,
(Whose name is a star spangled
Atrocity)
Catholic,Muslim, Christian, Jewish,Hindu:
All humanity.

You are a bed of roses with
Thorns exposed.

Oh precious people,
Where has your humanity gone?

I could swim in your oceanic eyes;
But when you give me that look
You lay dynamite on my iron skin
And you open me like a wound:

Spirit of fire that burns
Like a blade of sunlight
I sacrifice myself as I die
Into you, you ancient name of fire;

And your temper between the jaws
In the abstract geometry you propose
Lays me in an impassive torture
And you load ghosts of yesterday
Into Tomorrowland,
My cry and the cries of the torturer.

Be it the first dawn,
The last dawn,
We are bigger than the night
But the dream of us fits on the bed,
The bed of rain,
The bed of storms,
The liquidity of our bodies
As the moon wakes and asks
For our spirituality,
Souls entwined, we tear the night apart;

But we aren't always in the mood
At the same time,
Vehement bodies on invisible clocks
We can't see ticking,
You speak in Winter,
I speak in Summer;
Our words vanish like
Syllables of vertigo;
We are lost between the argument.

For all the good and the bad
I would make love with you
At the precipice,
Hanging at the cliff;
To fall in love or fall to our death,
Each is a timeless matter
And through it all I
Know that I am alive between
The polar shifts.

I'm eating bean and cheese,
Suicide bomber attacks airline;
I spill some salsa
And the body count isn't in yet.
There is no suspense here,
Just tacos and the horrible news;

I change the channel
And look for my huevos rancheros,
Terror does not exist anymore
But the salsa stain remains.

I can't find a metaphor
To illustrate the happenings -
The death that demolished my hope,
A tornado of things darkly in my mind.

All in a moment when CNN broadcast
The latest mass killings,
Inside my bones the weightless dust
Lifts off my body like ash.
I sit in a bar,
No I sit in a chair with these flaring
Interminable news,
I miss the silences,
A formidable peace followed
By a singular moment when I
Can enjoy myself against
The flaunting horrors of the world.

Is it designed this way?
Death with a volley of dark stories,
I want to stop fidgeting and ignore
The tears, the sadness,
Oh the maddening crowds!!

I drink to my disgust,
I drink a concoction of inner peace,
And I smile and ask myself,
Is there any joy in tragedy?

Wing of hovering bird
Just above the steadying ships,
Woman on the pier
Waiting with unchaste lips.

Sailor under moons
Praying like a king of saints,
All taming lust,
Into her arms he wanes.

Untamed horses
Gallop upon the fields,
Prisms of the man
From what woman's touch may yield.

Home from hostile waves
To drink angelic milk,
Touch by his angel
Skin like woven silk.

Upon the ground sturdy
He lays his heavy head,
Follow thy *****
To the woman he is now led.

"It's only a poem,
Dont read so much into it."
      
             Dedpoet

At the crossroads
Where life takes a turn,
Just in from regret alley
When it starts to burn.
Begin again at the dead end,
Take a detour fall in love
And take in a best friend,
Keeping head just above
Drowning just around the bend,
Left turn,
Right,
It doesn't matter where time lends,
We end up at a choice
At the Crossroads,
We begin again.

I am 37:
Writing a poem I wonder of the words
And an echo forms into my very fabric,
I sit in my chair and the pen begins;

I am 12 years old
And mother is dying in front me breathing
Her last breaths as a bullet takes her from me,
I see the quarter moon and pray for mercy;

The quarter moon stands in a night
Filled with wonder and
I am 32 years old when I find out my
Daughters exist, all that came before
Comes together in the moment I find
Out they are mine;

And the moment is an algorithm
Of change that never really changes,
I am 15 years old and she looks deeply
Into my soul and tells me she is ready,
I enter her,
The time is phosphorescent;

In the afterglow
I am 47 and I have not yet begun
To live, but my days are ending
Because I could not control my urges
And the alcohol eats my liver as my daughters
Cry for their father;

My daughters cry for their father
Reaching out to me,
And I am 34 years old when I see
That this is something to cherish and
I immerse myself into the moment
And all things seem to stand still,
Timelessness, yet it all must pass
To become forever;

I am 37 years old,
All stands still.....
The years passing away.

This little life of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine:
      Even with dark forces
        Riding in like four horses
      Making corpses
     Of all that I love
      And care for,
    What are they there for
      When all that I dare for
      Is taken into the apocalypse
        and my life gets alot of lips
     Talking, but I walk in no man's land,
       I am the island to myself
       The force of my nature
        Dont let the hater
         Bother me now or later,
       This little life ,
  Crazy majestic,
       The belittled strife,
       I can just taste it,
Bittersweet,
      I'm gonna gonna let it shine;
     And the darkness surrounds me.

We wrote the tree shades
Into it's roots as lovers do,
A first time's last
All said and done with me and you.
       We pained the leaves
        Green under said sun,
        Held our dreams
       For what might come.
Under the twilight
Of broken moons,
    Dancing with oak's
    Nurturing tunes.
And be it that the tree
  Will never fall,
It holds us eternal,
Memories all.

I stick out my arm
To reach for my brother's heights,
         Big brother means
A mountain can be moved,
      Loved,
              Beholden.

I reach out my arm,
      You tie the handkerchief ,
        With tears falling on your face
You put the needle in my vein:

      There are mountains everywhere
And when you move one,
There's always another beside it,
     High, so very high.  

    My arm falls to my side,
I don't see the tears anymore,
    I don't care,
Brother, my brother,
    In the shadow of a mountain.

The night is dead,
       A million cells dispersed
Into the atomic universes.

   (Pieces of me)

She turns over,
       Takes the smoke out my hand.....
    Puff,
Ahhhhhhhh,
    " You can leave now"

Everything is nothing,
    And in the mathematical juggernaut
Of life making life,
     One in a million will make it,
I will die 999,000 times:

And it is 65,000,000
Years ago,
A single asteroid with an asterisk
Kills all life to set free life,
       I am a root carnal
Subjective interlude of the lustrous desire,
     The **** of my *****
With no humanity,
    Come and go,
One night standing
    On a galactic precipice of infinite
Possibility,
      But what separates the animal
Is heartbreaking,
Because the animalistic nature
Takes me to the moon
And I am just a man,
      I leave behind what?

" Nice meeting you"

A fatherless angel 9 months into
Forevermore.

Stay your secrets
     In yesterday's place,
Fallen Angels
     Hear your cry for grace.
Still waters
     Walk with one to the rapids,
Taking the time
     To reveal sin's habits.
Please the world
     Would hear your thought,
Fighting solitudes
    That regret has wrought.
Soul pleads
     Behind closed doors,
Please God please,
     Begging You don't ignore.

There are those who would think
The world is flat, that holds true
To to preemptive thinking and
Makes the world a little more complicated:
The work of conspiracy is one thing,
I have come to say why not if I
Have not visited the upper stratosphere,
But I believe in a round moon,
Because I see that crescent smile
Among the spirit mending stars,
Though just my little opinion.
I speak to the beginners who will
One day know the truth
Between the lines of thoughts
And truth when round things
Like home and life seem flat.
I stare across a flat ocean,
All the pines that seem linear,
The mountains that dare reach
Further I see with round eyes.
And the complicated is welcome,
As neighbors might stay for the conversation
Just a little longer before night's
Interruption, just some thoughts,
Flat earth round the world,
I say this because I speak to you,
Behind every conspiracy is a friend
With words.

Bridle of desires,
Wing above the storms,
He that steadies the Current,
Lord of my life
Gather me unto You
That these words may be holy
And worthy to praise thee,
Christ, God of my life.
King of Kings
With Your perfection in wisdom
Who rejoices in the little children,
He that is the Word,
Heavenly Shepard
That forms the stars and the skies
With a gesture
Saving those from
The darkness that looms,
Guide me into the Life
As I follow the immortal light,
Merciful One,
Jesus Christ
Distiller of men
Allow me to praise you
Son of God,
Savior of my life.

So you are
A phosphorescent relic,
A relic that spins together
Nights and mornings alone-
Spinning in the mind like
Perfect spiral in a landscape that
Overflows with your magnetic sphere.

And the orbit
Comes and goes,
From my eyes to a tear,
From a tear to the sky with blue
Waves of current that wallows
Where you were.

Hear me,
Fallen star of my night,
The whirlpool of your hair
In solar winds,
Deafening winds,
Heavy winds,
When your blue sun brings a storm
Whirling in magnetic memories
Hypnotic and joyous.

Speak, speak Pulsar,
When the earth recites your name,
Pulsar, cry for me,
With your esteemed Aura like a lost
Nebula
At the crest of the world,
Searching without finding.

     This is the hour,
Because your dead star
Still burns and makes light,
And it still shines
And someone,
Someone like me must see it.

      Pulsation in my ethereal being,
I believed in dark stars
But don't believe in reading those
I see,
Pulsar you were hope in the light,
And now a radioactive desire
Of my past.

Oh but we tore the night apart,
We constellated passions
And danced upon the penumbra
In the galactic sea.

     Begin again,
We can sail away on the moon,
Turn the world into a playground,
Begin again Pulsar
Within an orchestral sky.

    However you were gone,
A blue giant in a tiny galaxy,
And I was only a firefly,
No, not a firefly,
An ember of a fire that burned
Out a million miles away.
Ressurection of your light,
Wage the gravity towards me,
       And I say Pulsar,
I remember when we were in the same sky.

    You are the infinite memory,
Your lies smell of Heaven and nothing
Else,
And you are a reflection on the horizon
Of the sea,
The glimmer of my yesterday.

      The sky will open
     And the sea shimmers,
       The moon moans,
     Pulsar, sweet memory ,
Magnetosphere of my pain.

I would like to share with you my enduring
        Memory with guns,
Never forgotten, a difficult story.

In my home Summer of 93 was born
From the dry sun and certain colors,
      Not the forsaken flowers,
But the rags of gangsters,
     The survival of the unfittest like
     Certain carnivores on a plain,
Tired of the slums from people whom
Live unmajestic lives.

     For a summer
Bullets had no names weekly,
A repugnant visiting crisis and I lost
My bed to fear,
One longs for a night with no bullets
Flying by,
And a dream without the oppressive
Gunshot just above my head board,
A consolation in the morning's sorrow.
Everyday a new hole discovered,
Everyday thinking
"I'm lucky to be alive"

    No.
All my heart aches
Because one night a bullet had a name,
And the bullet came for Mother
Never to return to the earth,
     In the blossoming summer
All I knew was death,
     Death with a barrage of gunfire
From the breast of destiny,
     Full in my heart was vengeance,
12 years old and lost in the womb
      Of the Barrio.

Like a madman,
For I was no longer a child,
The bullrush of thoughts come clean.
    Memories without veils,
Like an angry widow resting
In indifference, with an evening
That arrives with an eruption .

     A penetrating glare from my eyes,
Between youth and death,
I will tell you about my enduring sorrow,
     And a 12 year old carries a gun.

More than light,
In a land of woven echoes,
       Memory cascades between
A diaphanous glow and kisses
    The lips of eternal waters.

All that the sun gives shadows
Sketches with its desires,
The people within the dome,
The thirst it uncovers.

All that the shadows might
Hide in its deft solitudes:
The dying of the light
That burns in elongated spaces,
The cry of life,
The murky depth of regret.

All that the people try to fill
Makes known the hole inside,
The strength of fear,
The aloneness like a blameless
Lamb to daily slaughter.

All I see drives me mad,
The palpable wounds we carry,
The hope in oblivion
That tastes of the sweat of the Earth,
The Earth that devours.

All is a dream,
No, a nightmare vertical,
The wound of the walking days,
The feverish rush to nowhere,
No one cares awaken.

    Everything,
All that is in one's perception,
The acceptance of sleepwalking
Drives me to insomnia,
      Dying with life,
      It sleeps on me
      Like a dead truth.

You are the companion I speak with
     In the abyss, intimately.
In perfect spirals,
    And in the silence you are formed,
A silhouette of words draped
In dreams from the deepest dreams,
      Mistress.

        You trace a lineage
From the words of Eden
And guide my hand to forbidding hope.
      The echoes of my echoes
As my voice becomes your tongue,
      A polyhedral mirror
Reflecting a thousand embers of thought,
     Fire in the ink.

     We are alone-
Until we return to this place,
Back to this world,
Back to this house,
Back to this room,
And I am left in a tomb
With no lust for life,
I lose myself  to my flesh,
Alone in a sea of faces,
      Faces that see my naked being.

You inhabit the world
As a sculpture of the wind.
        
Your radiant forms,
Feast of light and shadows.

In the center of perception,
Watching you makes everything real.

Aroma of nakedness,
I devour your feast of forms.

Transfigurations, endless possibilities;
Your body is the the bridge over the abyss.

....And you became like water
That slipped between my fingers,
       there is no then,
Only a haunted now,
I move in the stillness of compacted time
     In the great masses of peoples
With the landscape unmoving
      Under dome of sky
Where regret crushes a tiny star,
      A memorial of light within light,
I am lost in your memory;

           Luminous woman,
          Golden haired woman
          Stretches herself over skies

We crossed the nocturnal
In a final dialogue of our bodies,
     We spoke fire like poetry
Enlaced in the verbiage of lovers,
     But words take final breaths,
    They distance themselves into echoes,
         we named new words
     And constellated sonnets
       Into the night sky;

      The living wound
      Cuts through my life,
       Be it your knife, my sacrifice

And in the kingdom of us
Where we crowned ourselves
In the momentary truth,
       All became our perception;
We created new worlds for our selves,
    We put the sun upon the sea
And set it to sail into our night,
       Everyday was a resurrection
as we governed our lives
     In an ecstatic harmony;

       To see your lovely forms,
            The sun throbs
       In the shadow of your living hour

     In forever I cast myself
        Unto gravitous time,
      Memories embody your form
     And the moment fulfills itself,
         Though the life is gone from me,
         The poem embodies forever,
             Immense as the look of your love.

When I am in the middle of a storm,
Or some cold overflowing,
I write the words to keep me warm,
I write the pain unknowing.

Home is in the verse
Where all the sadness combines,
I feel as a lifted curse,
And take back life that is mine.

When the winds carry sorrow,
I poetise the pain,
I no longer worry about tomorrow
Or wether it will rain.

So home is in the words
And I go away to life,
I can become a flying bird,
The metaphor flying away from strife.

Where has time gone,
It is zero hour,
At the precipice of ages,
Aging and it won't stop.

I see myself younger
In the ocean's reflection
Just below, I would
Jump to him for wisdoms sake.

I am at the edge,
Where ever this might be,
Sidesteps, tip toeing,
Between yesterday and nowhere.

I can remember in my youth
When my friends and I would
Hunt in our backyard with pellet
Guns in hand and the thought
Of a fat dove we might cook.

The first time I held that knife
And took it out of his stomach,
I never knew how the joining
Of the two could shock me,
I almost let go,
I held on long enough for him to
Collapse, I ran and never looked back.

I had never killed a bird before,
Unknowing how it's flailing wings
Would affect me, so powerful,
Fear in its eyes, I knew he wanted
To live.  

I had never stabbed a man before,
He had no wings to flutter,
But as I ran,
I knew that bird wanted to live,
I feel a guilt over me
When I can't tell if that man wanted
The same.

Your hand holds between its fingers
The nocturnal glow of a crescent moon,
The touch that holds,
The kiss that stays;

The kiss is a phosphorescent angel
By a sleepwalking lover,
Hold: close as souls can be,
Spiritual dawn of lovers;

The kiss dresses mountains with white veils
And adorns the trees with gentle air,
Holding through seasons,
Naked, at the precipice infinite;

We are born through one another,
Holding breath under prophetic stars,
Held by a kiss,
Dissolving into the lips.

Kiss, hold, our love inventing love.