Portfolios of love stocks,
Investments in a fickle,
Worthless market,
Corporate madness,
Wall of brokers broken,
Crumpled ticker tapes.

Untouched nature glows,
Preparing the day's nuptials,
Dons her ****** veil.

During a time not long ago
When children played tag in alleyways,
There lived a man, a hero,
In worn clothes with very humble ways.
\The neighborhood kids called him John.
No one was sure if he even had a last name.
He was a mystery, a puzzle this John.
Guess his last name and you win the game.
\John walked up the same alleyway everyday,
The kids would listen for his whistle
And the tap of his cletes gave him away,
Not bothered by Life's sharp thistle.
\He greeted us with his eternal smile
Which he wore like the cap on his head.
We always urged him to stay awhile
He would nod,"Maybe tomorrow," he said.
\We decided to give him an identity
As we ****** popsicles on a hot day.
He'd no longer be a nonentity,
He became John No Name in our child's play.

defenseless dreams
surrendering with silence,
unsuspecting seas surging,
beckon the limp body,
forever tranquil,
afloat the warm waters of
freedom.

Pacing in endless circles
Appearing to be chasing their tails
With nothing much to focus on,
Eyes reflecting haunted souls unveil
A ghost town abandoned long ago
With no signs of life and the dust
Rising up trying to hide the shame
Of a system which failed the public trust.
Street smells permeate the air;
Sanitation becomes a four-letter word.
There's no need for appetite here,
Not in this theater of the absurd,
And, well, I wouldn't feed the stuff
To my worst enemy if I had one.
It's a no-**** shelter with defunct inhabitants.
If resiliency of the spirit be overdone,
The ability to survive incredible odds,
Look at souls forever trapped in their cages.
As if to mock decency and humanity
The signs read "Patria o Muerte."

The moonbeams' virginal glow
Streams through the window.
His body bathed in pools of light,
My love sleeps moon-drenched
On a hot summer's night.