birth
life
death
rebirth
a rim tone’s soft cry (wah-wah)
emerging above a drum-like
basso profundo
chaotic cadence
harmony in vibrato
a singing bowl’s sustain dying
to be born again and again
the universe without and within
inhaled into the mind’s eye
traversing core’s essence
expelled through nostrils

meditation in slow motion
posture strung from rafters
a twisting waist
yin and yang separate
but equal
beautiful lady wrists
synchronized to calm, deep breaths
a diffused gaze focusing
on quiet power inside you
chi strong enough to stop time
as you move within a cylinder of silence
thinking about nothing
each movement with a memory of its own
a life time in yang long form
closing down to wu shu
the universe within and without
and in each breath
birth
life
death
rebirth

birth
life
death
rebirth
a rim tone’s soft cry (wah-wah)
emerging above a drum-like
basso profundo
chaotic cadence
harmony in vibrato
a singing bowl’s sustain dying
to be born again and again
the universe without and within
inhaled into the mind’s eye
traversing core’s essence
expelled through nostrils

meditation in slow motion
posture strung from rafters
a twisting waist
yin and yang separate
but equal
beautiful lady wrists
synchronized to calm, deep breaths
a diffused gaze focusing
on quiet power inside you
chi strong enough to stop time
as you move within a cylinder of silence
thinking about nothing
each movement with a memory of its own
a life time in yang long form
closing down to wu shu
the universe within and without
and in each breath
birth
life
death
rebirth

an easterly wind
blows down into the basin
heat of compression
warming up the desert floor
stirring up the night's passion

I saw my sister today
painting clouds on a blue background
leaving trails like a sky writer
soaring above obstacles and problems
floating on feathers with spirit of eagles
keeping a watchful eye
feeding family
defending to the death
the mother of nature
a gliding cerulean mistress
I saw my sister today
flying high in the sky



Del Maximo
© November 12, 2009

there's a shadow in the house
lurking in the kitchen and hallway
sometimes peeking out
into the living room or dining area
I catch its movement peripherally
a flash in the corner of my eye
gone before I turn my head to look
a ghost of the past?
a haunting in the present?
a purposeful visitation?
something insidious?
imagination's figment?
should I be afraid of karma's regurgitation
or comforted as I sit alone?
or is it just a shadow
the movement of leaves and branches
breezing in the window's wind
outside this cold, drafty old house

a holiday feast
turkey and mashed potatoes
dressing and gravy
creamed corn, cranberries, cornbread
greens and sweet potato pie

she watched her children
all bright eyed and excited
enjoying their meal
as they left the lot she thought
“Some day...we’ll have it at home.”


Del Maximo
© December 8, 2009

the ground shakes as she approaches
rotundly trudging forth in petite gentility
hairy arms flailing
nostrils flair with the bray of her speech
the odor of ignorance on her breath
lies spew like educated honey
expressed in sweet smelling
Snow White delusions
beady eyes the color of ignominy
assess mannerisms and etiquette
seeking softspots to expose and exploit
carrying a large plastic bag on her midnight meanders
she collects the load she lays on the road
she always keeps her **** together
she claims to be the life of the party
but her grunts, snorts and oinks betray her
who can she be but the beast?

sometimes
when I looked into your eyes
I saw an entanglement
of two souls
reaching into another universe
where impossible was possible

sometimes
when I looked into your eyes
locking on without blinking
I knew that moments like this
were all that matter

sometimes
when I looked into your eyes
I saw every hurt I ever felt
and knew you understood

sometimes
I saw the speed of light
speckled in your irises
and thought we were on our way

sometimes
that last little peck
added as an afterthought
is more meaningful and joyful
than all that came before it

sometimes
inevitable
is wishful thinking
pipe dreams left wanting

sometimes
things are better left
unsaid and undone
and regret is just another word

Del Maximo
(c)08/29/2023

ingredients were chopped
cleanly, neatly
with care
cutting tools were pre-sterilized
and pre-packaged
then wiped clean after use
he arrived in blue scrubs
and donned blue nitrile gloves
for mutual protection
it had been a while for her
her nails were long
she sat in an easy chair
with her feet up on an ottoman
a towel was spread before he began
to make clean up easier
the scent of an alcohol wipe
wafted as he worked
little did he know
we would finish what he started
after he left we gathered up the clippings
thick and fungal
we put them in a *** to boil
with sautéed celery, onions and seasonings
salt and pepper to taste
hmmmmm...delicious, home made
toe nail soup!

she dreams of him
strangers seated at long tables
repast in her residence
a wake awakening thoughts
eminent signs and symbols
of transitioning

she thought he was calling her
never imagined he would take her son
fourth of five
sixth of nine overall
seemingly the healthiest among them

a year and a month later
a series of medical mishaps
emergency rooms and hospitals
x-rays, ultra sounds and CT scans
tranfusions, colonoscopies and CT colonographies

he returns so often now
strangers in the house
awakening concerns
for a proper last will and testament
she no longer fears him
it's life's sufferings that frighten her
not a welcoming but a readiness
impeding her fight
she feels her time is near

swaying leaves and shadows
afford an illusion of cool
complementing my tower fan
set on breeze
as I melt upon the couch
dressed in t-shirt and boxer briefs
blueness invades my eyes
looking out at palm trees
silhouetted in sky
I can’t complain
contrarily, I like it
fed my fat face with a Fatburger
downed with plenty of cold water
now I’m just chillin’
enjoying my socal summer
it would be nice to actually be at the beach
rolling with the waves, sand *****,
and scents of salt air
but that’s all inside me
day dream memories of being buried in sand
and dipping in ocean
floating
my diffused eyes stepping back from the heat
bathing me in timeless
endless summer

dark clouds blowing in
rolling with ocean's westerly wind
large gradient gray splotches
randomly dispersed by natures asymmetry
sunlight filtering lightly
through a background of confusion
an afternoon's surprise
soft, steady showers
hardly offsetting 40 days and 40 nights
of Winter and Spring drought
but still inspiring happy dances
walks with umbrellas
and ice cream cones
in the fresh scent of sea air
and the mustiness of Summer rain

seasons cycle forth
leaves are changing their color
big yellow fruit fall
guavas are early this year
they probably miss her too

God loves a river
a gentle flowing current
or raging rapids
Flora and Faunus preside
breathing life to the waters

she wades in hip boots
while checking in on her friends
to tree frog greetings
blessing all with her vision
seeing to it all is well

the sun smiles on her
this river nymph from the shore
ecology's eyes
she keeps the rivers healthy
as she walks through the waters

my eyes are tired
of drinking daylight
a breeze rustles the vines
outside my window
will it be cool tonight?
the phone goes unanswered
the tv remains off
it's time to rest
upon my pillow
there is nothing but darkness
phosphenes
the sound of ears ringing
and dreams of you

awoke from a dream last Wednesday
strangely refreshing and uplifting
resounding in music
the notes still reverberating on my heartstrings
it was the first dream of my brother
since his passing
it may be my first dream of him ever
he was laying in bed
contemplating his demise
don’t know if he was speaking before or after the fact
guess it really doesn’t matter
with one simple sentence
and just a hint of anger
“Life is stupid”, he said.
implying remorse and resentment
for still having so much to do
I backed away to give him his privacy

as I readied myself for work
he got up out of bed and found me
happy and smiling, a sparkle in his eyes and teeth
corroborated his contentment
he was walking around the house playing his guitar
it was acoustic and unplugged
but the sound was electric
he was playing a Mexican folksong
his ex-wife appeared, singing the refrain:

“Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores
por qué cantando se alegran
Cielito Lindo, los corazones” 1

his song struck a chord whose message was immediate:

“sing and don’t cry
for singing gladdens the heart”

his daughter’s seventeenth birthday is today
with a party this weekend
timing is often coincidental
but it seems to me
this message was for her
and everyone at the gathering

for those who would listen
Terence would tell us:

“Life is stupid...so sing and don’t cry”

if GOD is truly everywhere
and everything
then death is not a going home
nor a return to the DIVINE
although life leaves the body
and ashes turn to dust
essence remains
transitioning to the realization of
DIVINE omnipresence
you were never apart from GOD
and could never find a place
where HE is not
if you believe your dearly departed
is with GOD
then just look around you
GOD is everywhere

he died at home
an early morning 911
pronounced him dead
police ruled out foul play
his recent medical history
avoided autopsy

through shock, numbness and tears
she finally fell asleep that night
sitting in a kitchen chair
laying her head to rest
on the table
her daughter came next day
to clean the room
make it livable
she mentioned a certain smell
her daughter didn’t notice it

later that night she went into the room
with a freshening fragrance
to her surprise
although it hadn’t worked in years
the ceiling fan was on
the room cool and odorless
was he present?
and thinking of her?
she laid down to rest
in reassurance’s comfort
and cried herself to sleep
thinking of him

Thanks is for getting
for blessings received in life
I give humble thanks
for family and friendships
and friends who become fam'ly

for the laughs and tears
for the learning together
for light and glow of
genorosity's spirit
reminders of angelhood

wouldn't have made it
through valley of death's shadow
without your kindness
but I thank you most of all
for being just who you are

for everyone
for Barbara

you extended yourselves to me
when I was scared and in need
and oh so tired
waking and walking in a fog
lacking in appetite
but hungry for meaning
saddened and lost
my spiritual core shaken
I no longer knew how to pray

I was taken by surprise, then
more recently
when I answered your call
I felt your pain
and that of your family and friends
I remembered all your thoughts,
prayers, well wishes, hopes
and wise counsel
it was all stored up inside me
waiting like a wellspring
its energy emanating from my hands
as I offered your cache of prayers
to others

in that instant I understood
the nature of empathy
the power of used shoes
you walk in mine and I in yours
the essence of each-other-ness
helping hands near and far
a body of spirits
a connection of souls
calling on a higher power
to help
to heal
to comfort

still down but uplifted
fortified by friends, family
and friends of family
touching my heart with their prayers
with hands clasped
or palms up in supplication
or fingers tapping keyboards
spoken or unspoken
your words to God's ears
my frustrations alleviated
through your kind thoughtfulness
my spirit roused by your intentions
as I lay in bed this morning
moved by your kindness
I lifted my hands in praise and thanks
they tingled with grace and vibes
a manifestation of your love
good feelings overcame my moodiness
my mind reset on healing's path

the strangest dream I had my mind did stir
   a faint symphony beyond dark distance
   black pearly gates of enticing luster
my entire essence pulled forward in ethereal trance
   as gates slowly opened to draw me inside
   held steadfast by intrigue I offered no resistance
progressing downward in pitch darkness a great sadness I espied
   song of great sorrow its melody did sway
   familiar voices, recognizable cries
the troubles and sufferings of others whom in life I turned away
   in trembling sadness the echoes permeated
   my body, spirit and soul did fray
a cacophony of pain and regret my eyes more exacerbated
   looking into a mirror stained
   reflections of hurt my own actions created
light’s pinpoint guided me from this valley disdained
   into a lake of fiery brimstone
   vengeance consuming me till nothing remained

shoot the moon
the sky is falling
he doesn’t have a clue
he can’t figure it out
he doesn’t want to
holding on to the past like crutches
punched, choked and slammed
like a Saturday night smackdown
he was his father’s “favorite”
wrestling verbal belittlements of brotherly shame
“Stop crying.  You’re acting like a female.”
his mother escaped the battle cage and sent for him later
abandonment and authority issues
anger internalized and rising to a peak
he dropped out of high school
a crumpled, broken man-child
a stone child
having only dreams left intentionally vague
falling to his addictions and ****** anesthesia
afraid of moving forward
he likes it in limbo
waiting for life to happen for him
expecting others to help
but he won’t help himself
exploiting every excuse
words and actions biting the hands that feed him
pushing people away
assigning blame with pointed fingers
campaigning for sympathy with crocodile tears
tip toeing silently
the years creep up and sneak by
he’s a full step slower
like an aging prize fighter
unable to bob and weave society’s jabs
punch drunk he says, “no más”
withdrawing to the streets
he says, “no más”
“no más”


Del Maximo
© October 8, 2009

October 11, 1944
mission Mt. Cauala
deep in the Appennines
veils of midnight
curtains of torrential rain
her rivers rise to block our way
the Vezza roaring like thunder
brilliant, blinding lightning baffling
stealing all sense of proportion
torn up roads like chasms tripping
dropped equipment lost in mud
visibility at absolute zero
feeling forward for each step
the man in front of you disappears in darkness
as each man to the rear gets lost
this blackness of night had not been foreseen
lightning flashes strobe the mountains above
thunder explodes like artillery fire
completely soaked soldiers stumble around
some find an abandoned shack
shelter near the Sera
rest until daybreak

as we enter Seravezza
our regimental commander cautions
the entire town under enemy eyes
scoping our every move
enemy machine guns sweep streets
heavy artillery regularly rakes buildings
some of our men already wounded
reconnaissance and plan of attack
Company I right, L center, K left
by 2310 the last man slips
into Sera’s icy waters
then climbs necessity’s ladders
built to negotiate the steep Rocky Ridge
jagged, knife-like edges rip clothing and tear flesh
as men try to find footing in blackness
chaos in the ranks
platoons and squads scattering
leaders have no way of knowing
if men are turning back
getting spattered by enemy machine guns
or losing their footing and lives
to the rocks below
calling out to each other
pinpoints our positions to enemy ears
drawing more accurate fire
by 0730 we are all atop the mountain
the German counter attack begins the day
fanatically, despite our heavy fire
they keep coming from three directions
expected flank from 1st Battalion does not arrive
still, German mortar fire and grenades
cannot dislodge our men
despite dwindling ammunition
we hold our position
BAR’s, Silver Stars and concussion grenades

a dozen volunteer for ammunition supply detail
as we approach the hill
a machine gun rakes our position
manned by two, our fire takes out one
the other carries him away
onward to hill’s base
progress paused by tremendous barrage
we crouch for a time before continuing
half way up we’re met
with more mortars and machine guns
shrapnel flying hot
burning into clothes and skin
the smell of gunpowder and cordite
burning into memory
our ammunition mission fails
forcing return to base of hill
with men from rifle companies following
at 1600 our own heavy artillery barrage falls short
striking entrenched remnants of companies K and L
this friendly fire is too much for tired men to take
they withdraw at opportunity’s first chance

darkness falls
soldiers roaming aimlessly
battle’s horror in shocked eyes
efforts made to gather wounded
seventy casualties in just one day
scores with battle shock and fatigue
but numbers never quantify
suffering, broken spirit and loss of life
trained men and officers killed
unhappy AWOLs and disciplinaries
find themselves as front line replacements
inexperienced men growling greatly
morale tanks

The battle of Seravezza crushed 3rd Battalion
despite several efforts
we were never able to take control
the Germans repelled every attack
soldiers were angered by impossible tasks
seemingly sent on suicide situations
we knew they knew where we were
we knew we were to face heavy bombardment
we knew we were without sufficient firepower or manpower
command knew we were out gunned
in the end
the Germans controlled the mountain

they were the last to see her
alive and conscious
a post-surgical stint in rehab
meant to be a temporary stop
on the road home
they said she was asking for me
she said I was the one
who knew about her health
then they laughed
don’t know if they found her situation
laughable
or if they were mocking her
for asking for me

I understand a gallows laugh
immaturity’s release
when one can’t fathom or process
laughing in helplessness
not grasping onto gravity
heads in the ground
in plain sight

next morning she was found
unresponsive and bleeding
cardiac arrest en route back to ER
upon doctor’s prognosis
we agreed to let her go
ER and ICU proved to be her last stop
on her way home to eternity
I know they’re not laughing now
I hope they regret it
but I can’t seem to forget it
I don’t think I ever will

a flickering flame
dancing in my window sill
burned long and low
replaced many times
a bright beacon
of warmth and memories,
sharing, support and healing
a halo's glow of inspiration
encircling hearts and minds
linking kindred spirits
in 5,7,5
a community of poets
candid and open
generous in their truths
an internet family not easily forgotten
a candle has been left for you
dancing in my window sill
a bright beacon
a pinpoint of light
calling you home

dropped hard to the floor
the crumpled sound of dead weight
his cracked skull oozing
lifeless body releases
blood, ***** and seepage run

the stench of death fades
bones gnawed clean by sated rats
start to fossilize
just another new entry
in his basement collection


Del Maximo
© September 18, 2009

it floated down from a street sign
without a single flap
floating down slowly
as if by parachute
like a single feather
gliding on a current
or a dandelion seed
fulfilling a wish
its sleek black wingspan spread
using tail feathers for balance
landing on concrete with a gentle hop
was it an omen of sorts?
a black bird crossing in front of you
portending a warning?
or was it a metaphor for life?
following signs
choosing your way
traversing gently if you can
arms outstretched, all encompassing
appreciating each moment
keeping your balance
always landing on your feet
knowing you can fly

15 tons
26 miles out to sea
10 boats brought his blessings
of luck and safety to shore
gracing a people with his presence
even in death 

with a reverence that translates
the smoky scent of incense burns
at the site if his future temple
as mourners bid 10,000 farewells
thank you Your Excellency
good bye Ngai

mud from the cemetery
everyday on his boots and clothing
and everyday he'd wash the shovels
muddy water like a river
muddy red waters
the graves are dug deep like a cliché
six feet under
too small for a back ***
so down he jumps
digging deeper
from cemetery to cemetery
in rain or by moonlight
he works hard every night
till his calluses bleed
a muddy white truck
and muddy wooden handled tools
the perfect cover
you'd think he worked there
he scopes the obits
looking for fresh funerals
he prefers meat on the bones
there's no profit in grave robbing
no one is buried wearing valuables
and there's no market for dead body parts
he just likes the smell of formaldehyde
the vacated looks on their faces
and the occasional surprise
when he finds one with open eyes

the world was good
light shown through the dark void
waters parted to reveal dry land
Flora and Faunus presided
over primordial paradise
the green earth breathed crisp
cerulean skies
stars twinkled laser-like
through the unpolluted vastness
and every month a dragon
swallowed the moon
lions and lambs played peacefully
roses bloomed in deserts
rivers and oceans teemed
with every kind of cat and dog fish
buffalo roamed by the millions
and chickens came before eggs
nightingales sang songs
with humpbacks
butterflies flapped their wings
without consequence
the earth was new
the garden was fresh
then God created man

rising above aeries
thermalizing warm updrafts
arms and fingers outstretched and lifting
holding his head up and following his nose
escaping the earth
basking in sweet respite from routine
a lightness of being
floating towards sky
enjoying the rush of new found freedom
feeling the wind beneath him
hearing no other sounds
as clouds sing cerulean blues
but even liberty has limitations
and nature has her secrets
feathers, string and wax are no match
his youthful exuberance flew too high
climbing too fast
reaching sun before understanding
accomplishment without comprehension
unearned knowledge
feathers fall out in bunches amidst frantic fluttering
dreams crash like Icarus wings
in pieces on the ground

don't know what it's like
to be super healthy
but I remember running at full speed
knees lifting high with long strides
fists pumping hard to keep my rhythm
with elite athletes cheering the fat kid on
I remember knocking down and through
every opponent on the football field
including my older brothers
no one could block me or get by me
I remember jumping shoulders above the rim
before slam dunks were popular
grabbing every rebound
and making court length passes
like they were nothing
I could kick a soccer ball
from end zone to end zone
and hit a softball into the next diamond
I could do more sit ups and push ups
than anyone thought a fat kid could
I've always been strong
my older brother called it my "brute" strength
meant as both compliment and put down
but I've never known lean and fit
they've always been strangers to me
health's basic formula has never changed
eat right, exercise, get plenty of rest
lean meats, fruit and vegetables
healthy fats and nuts
keeping fiber's eye on glycemic's index
portions are everything
green tea, vitamins, supplements
working out to burn the fat, baby
I've never known lean and fit
but we're going to get well acquainted
they're going to become my new middle name

thinking of Pops
with Fathers Day looming
at the witching hour
saw someone give CPR
in a movie today
brought it all back
trying to keep count
while pumping his chest
watching his first gasp of breath
I thought he’d be all right
just like in the movies
but he didn’t keep breathing
so I just kept pumping
till the paramedics arrived

I know other details intellectually
I know his eyes shot upward
so I could only see the whites
but I can’t picture that anymore
thankfully

the image that remains strong
is that deep gasping breath
a whole upper body heave
just like in the movies
when they regain consciousness
I thought he’d be all right
but I had to keep pumping

with that deep gasp
I thought he’d come back
like a newborn baby
awakening to life

how is it Southerners can stand the heat
it hasn't been this hot all season long
this mugginess is robbing me of sleep
dog days are early for summer's swan song
my shirt is wet in the middle of night
knew enough to get up, drink some water
my brow is sweating even as I write
sit by the fan as I think I oughter
the fan is on "breeze" lulling me to sleep
seems to work as my body is cooling
back to bed now, resort to counting sheep
closing my eyes, enough with this fooling

the TV's volume is down to a drone
my body's easing into a dream zone

so many times I’ve stood alone
without friend or family
family or friend
although we’re all connected
like blocks in a Jenga tower
with fate’s choice pushing and pulling
after the collapse
we stand alone and rebuild
so many dictates in the re-invention
holing up for a while
caught up in ‘musts’ instead of ‘cans’
‘needs’ instead of ‘wants’
limited resources finding a new path
instead of creating one

the front door ajar
ideas breezing in coolness
a yellow porch light
illuminating the climbing tendrils
in my mind
manifesting the cosmos
with blue and red pizza boxes
brown rice and beans
tastes like chicken

communication holds many keys
but which one fits the lock?
so many unexpected turns
so many pieces in life’s puzzle
but I’m good at solving puzzles
every time I fall
I long for preparation H
to soothe my **** hurt
but sometimes when you think you’re drowning
you only need to  stand up
and remember that you’re good
but that’s totally up to me
as it should be
although we’re all connected
we stand alone
we stand alone
although we’re all connected
so don’t leave me in my cave, baby
hit me back to the moon if you have to
hit me back to the moon

mortality's taste is bittersweet
as death's brush paints life's new lease
impressionistic could haves, should haves, would haves
minimalist suprematism shapes dreams
surrealistic hopes
time's urgency hammered home by temporal clarity
top 10 lists glazed to topography
as future blends to present amid trees
a familiar CICU
a family gathering
beds with tubes and wires
monitors flashing and beeping
refreshing past's distance
with updated parking prices
will the ending be the same?

tidies up his clothes
seemingly unaware that
he still looks homeless
his eyes smile in petition
doesn't have to ask—you know

breeze shifts to downwind
smell of beer and cigarettes
he's run out of *****?
his one gray sock is holey
skin grimy, chafed and bleeding

turn away my gaze
to my everlasting shame
give or not to give
it's not even a question
he needs more than I can offer

an old lady lived in the neighborhood
spewing spite from her window calling out
I'm sure she would tell you her life was good
atop the world she would tell you no doubt
her meanness revealed the hatred within
her blatant name calling would never end
pointing her finger at everyone's sin
secretly wishing that she had a friend
even her family wasn't too keen
her two young nieces would visit with care
she chased them away creating a scene
they considered her home a witches lair

she lived by herself, was buried alone
in an grave unmarked, without a tombstone

a peaceful puddle
reflections rippled by wind
a calmness of soul
mirroring the earth's stillness
illuminated by life

a child's biggest grin
running, stomping and splashing
exuberance flies
peacefulness replaced by joy
returns to wait for next child

I miss you my dear
forgive the desecration
couldn't help myself
you left me so suddenly
leaving a hole in my heart

I couldn't let go
just had to keep you near me
I dug up your bones
on our anniversary
it would have been our 13th

beautiful in life
a beautiful skeleton
I took your femur
then reburied your remains
I hope you don't mind, my dear

I cut off both ends
burning them down to ashes
ceremonial
rubbing them into my skin
wailing and wearing sackcloth

hollowing the rest
burning holes in their places
forming a new flute
haunting, soulful melodies
bittersweet consolations

I can still get very sad
if I think about it too much
even though it has been months
I allow myself to cry
at the cemetery
or alone in my office
the thoughts creep into my eyes
the tears' flow is gentle
but unstoppable
the numbness is fading
the insulation wearing off
I was trying to be strong then
now I'm just being me

come into the light
let me see your body’s glow
the stars in your eyes
let me feel the warmth of you
as we sit by the fire

let our bodies melt
melding into one spirit
an easy slowness
tasting sweet sweat of labor
let me slip inside your heart

close your eyes now, rest
while I sing you a love song
softly in your ear
cuddle closer in my arms
wrap yourself in me and sleep


Del Maximo
© September 5, 2009

beautiful blackbirds
ebony adorned from head to foot
camouflaged for stealth
in shadows and night time sky
sleek sateenic sheen
iridescence of well oiled machine
efficient avian predators
ruthless in their call
attacking nested eggs and fledglings
with never ending caw
boldly bantering by day
foraging in parks, parking lots, streets and alleys
searching for food with eerie, ethereal, slow motion hops
seemingly phasing, at will, out of sync with time
ancient spirit travelers to another plane
they watch the world with weary eyes
spying and recording the day’s events
atop skies, trees and telephone lines
then whispering into the ears
of gods and poets and cornfields

friends come and go
loved ones pass
fruit is seasonal
jobs not vocation
my hands have steered
four steering wheels
clothes and shoes wear
houses have termites
I can't find my hammer
estates are contested
health is for the healthy
art is opinion
gain and loss
equate peak and valley
with flatline meridian
happiness and challenges
are temporal
like grains of sand
sifting between toes
life is sweat
sweat is good
through everything
I keep the faith
hold onto hope
and work on my dreams

(C) 03/31/15

shadows of rolling clouds
changing my mood
a herd of buffalo stampeding sky
intermittently blotting out my mind
with flashbacks of sun
the days are warm
the days are cool
Meteora is consistently confused
do patterns exist in chaos?

the world is racing faster it seems
its pendulum tick talking quickly
hate rears ugly reminders to love
to tolerance and neighborly acts
calls for peace
cell phones ringing rapid-fire-like
attempting to communicate with the dead
a worst rated shooting on American soil
leaving family, friends and strangers
questioning, “Why?”
dance club mourners echoing
our schools and movie theatres
for pain and loss
can happen anywhere

the game has changed
they’re shooting more threes
vitriolic rhetoric runs rampant
he hates everyone not like him
she lies to your face
both seeking glory over service
popularity trumps decency
in this age of reality celebrities
talent has lost its voice
seems it’s all about money
poisoning the earth and its people
GMO’s and pharmaceuticals and pesticides
OH MY!
each new generation a product of its times
can we turn back the clock?
should we even try?
if we knew now what we knew then
would we be better off?

for many
Christmas is a time of traditions
tree decorating
lights
gift exchanges
caroling
candles
family dinners
where planning all the above
is half the fun
and caring for one another
is proof of the pudding
(razzleberry dressing)

for some
traditions go on
skewed and miscued
existence shattered
heartbeats shuttered
life just holding on
but the world keeps spinning
albeit upside down

inconsequential, random memories
trigger teardrops
bird sightings and dragonflies
stir yearnings
both measures of comfort
and reminders of unbearable loss
proverbial double edged swords

time doesn't heal
but it moves on
doors close
windows open
and dreams show the way
for new beginnings
every year lights a new candle
of hope

so
Merry Christmas!
Happy Holidays!
and Happy New Year!
'Tis the season of change


Del Maximo
©12/22/2019

he adorns the dawn
and brightens the earth
basking us in ultraviolet
he warmly coaxes a reassurance
in the promise of a new day
he brings sunlight to the world
so eyes can see
and he never stops giving
at day’s end he colors the sunsets
relinquishing sky to moon

she casts dreams in shades of silver
her phases waxing and waning
in quarters of human understanding
freedom of the leash
gives her leeway to appear in daytime
or blackout in the night
but her path is mapped in almanacs
her cycle set in cement
even scripture says the earth will continue
as long as the moon shines

clouds can cover him
but the sky is ever present
beyond the gloom and teariness
he is a fixture of blue
and truest blue the day after the storm
cerulean by day
he holds the air we breath
the color of midnight keeps the stars
an infinity pool with no end
a depth unperceptible to naked eyes

she holds the sky’s horizon
along her ultramarine mesa
day and night
she crashes every beach party
with her rolling hula hands
thundering onto sand
her swells rising and rippling
with her music’s ebb and flow
no one has ever seen the ocean stop
even when she’s standing still

daily sun
nightly moon
endless, ever present sky
ocean’s perpetual motion
nature runs like clockwork
why are people so unreliable?

you helped me find my voice
I will not easily discard it
and your "suggestions" resemble commands
what you call a comfort zone
is me
my feelings
my way of thinking and speaking
my representations to the world
declarations of who and what
I am
contentment can be found there
for there is peace in me
success is formulated
not in well-rounded-ness
but in focusing on one's strengths
and many of my poems were not written
in or for comfort
they were labored in life's pain
I can write in other voices
the full human spectrum is inside us all
I can try different styles and forms
experiments and departures
I have a whole heart
with lifetimes of experience
to draw upon
but in the long run
in the end
even posthumously
I can be only me

night presents herself
stars are lighting up the sky
the ocean is black
still darkness speaks quietly
whispering across the bay

searching for meaning in muck’s mire
crawling on knees and elbows
in hills and valleys of gray matter
weeding through memories
turning them like mulch
refreshing the mind’s soil
nourishing a heart shrouded in fibrillation
a cool wind freezes time
and winds the clocks backward
he sees himself in past’s mirror
looking into his eyes
he finds a place of pensive calm
contemplating the stillness
he recalls uncomplicated beginnings
wafting in the smells of adolescence
waves crashing on the jetty
campfire on the beach
hot dogs cooked on wire hangers
barefoot midnight football on the sand with the girls
blowin’ a little **** in darkness’ solitude
an occasional airplane taking off overhead
drowning out discussion on a utopian society
endorphins heightening recollections
pre-adulthood times before mistakes and regrets
before the bad news grabbed the headlines
keeping discontentment’s seeds deep inside
sprouting an irregular heartbeat
he wonders how it could come to this
never had much growing up
doesn’t have much now
never thought much of himself
just living day to day
with garnishments on a part-time salary