A ballad I wrote for my roommate's badass cactus plant.
      
Come hither, foreign passersby
And listen to this song!
A cactus plant of noble deed
Would vanquish that is wrong!

Of faerie’s tear was he borne from
So sweetly did it seep!
Absorbed into a common thread
A hero, did it reap!

Hell hath no fury like his arms
That launch sharp needles far!
A thousand ****** upon the skin
Of discord, he shall scar!

Once knighted true by queen d’fleur
He rides on gallant gold!
Through tides and cliffs doth feathered steed
Make haste 'cross lands of olde!

Such titles prized did Needles seize
For slaying spiders tall!
On bended knee shall he assist
Upon your beck and call!

To summon Needles just takes faith
So whisper to the sky!
The sacred psalm of cactus high.
Let evil fare to die!

-Juan Carlos Gomez

I want to tell you
That I broke my hand
Punching my dorm walls
Repeatedly in your absence.
But truth be told,
I’m still writing dumb prose.

I’d like to give you
A piece of my mind.
I don’t need it, it’s just
The anvil of my heart.
But truth be told,
I’m still writing weak prose.

I’ve got to leave you
Hanging like the solitary
Pay phone at the pier,
Beeping like a flat pulse.
But truth be told,
I’m still writing **** prose.

I must part from you
Yet my prior words
Are tied to my ankles,
There is never distance.
But truth be told,
I’m still writing lame prose.

I need to say to you
How special you are
With what little control
I’ve left of my body.
But truth be told,
I’m still writing this prose.

-Juan Carlos Gomez

-For my grandmother-

You came to me
Like a wolf.
Wounded and limp,
Yet so firm within

You knelt over
And welcomed me
Into your territory.
An alien wasteland
So barren, and yet
So rich with life;
Like the cacti
That blossoms
Effortlessly,
Yet without ease.

They are born
Under the eye
Of a loving spirit,
Who works,
Ceaselessly
Always feeding,
Always giving,
Always nurturing;
Yet is still so distant.
So foreign.
So unknown from me.

Let me be the one
For you in this
Looming dusk.
Let me clean your wounds
And brush your fur.
I don’t need to speak.
I never do.

Let me give you thanks
For this land of color.
This beaming plain of
Sorrow and vigor.

Let me be your spectrum
As the shade draws near
Keep me abreast
Always and forever
As the eyelid folds
To bring twinkling
Tears of grief
For all to see.

-Juan Carlos Gomez

Sister,
I've been to your chambers,
I've seen that Holy Bible
Kept ***** with your tomes.
I know that you're secretly
A nun, or a Catholic schoolgirl.
But that's impossible,
Because I've never seen you
Flustered pink like
A fragile glass of
Lemonade
On a thirsty,
Sinful,
Sabbath day.

You can't be celibate.
You are way too beautiful for that.
And such beauty left to waste
Is proof enough that my God is
Absent.
He is spending His time
Dodging deadlines to watch
Every move you make.
There are always
Judgments to be made.

I beg of you,
Cleanse this *****.
Get on your knees and pray,
But do it slowly.
Kiss the shaft of your Savior
Renounce your title to Him
So we can both go to Heaven.

You might think I'm just a mongrel,
Filthy in the eyes and mind.
Love is a pearl born from nature,
And yours is due to be polished.

-Juan Carlos Gomez

Every fiber of my being
Evaporates as I scurry
Across sun-bleached dunes
That lack my accustomed shade.


There is no mother
To feed from—just salt
For stinging the wounds
And seasoning the psyche.

I’ve got little air
Generating from my swinging tail;
But certainly not enough
To fan my inhibitions.

Which would hurt more?
The excruciating pain that surges
From each bite, or rather
The uncertainty of its growth?

I died to live
And I’ll live to die;
As I seek the shades
Of life’s mirage.

“Life is beautiful”, she would say.
“Negate everything but your heart.
Use its light as a beacon for others”
My dim mind disagrees

She thinks that God
Has blessed her with a gift
One for all to behold.
She doesn’t know
That my weak heart
Slowly dies as my mind
Steps all over it.

My thoughts, they process
The way acid rain falls on statues
Corroding the bodies
Of revered men
Who will just be memories
Often unspoken of.
I will be that statue
Defaced by time and spirit
Getting much more older
Yet much less wiser

If I truly am God’s light
Then the batteries must be reversed,
Or perhaps my ugly mind
Seized them away,
Never to spark
Through humankind.

I watched adrift on a putrid plank
That had saved me once before
‘Twas the elusive Pride of the Pacific
Constructed in ‘74

Her bronze bells and mighty foghorn
Commanded all to make way
And the tides knelt beside her feet
To congregate as they say:

“Tis pitiful, such punishment
Bestown upon the Ancient Blue
Our vengeance creeps forth each day
And will drown this peace askew.

Their corpulence, disgusting
As they carouse all day and night
Limiting themselves to their marvels”
Alas! A human they spied in sight!

“The humans have rejected you
From their blissful celebration
Now let us stir up trouble
For complete annihilation!”

With swift currents bombarding,
The passengers fled with haste
And in one implacable calamity,
The ship was left to waste

The bronze bells won’t resound
With the ship flipped on its hull
The foghorn’s left to drown
As beauty is left to null.

I sobbed adrift a putrid plank
Never abandoned from the start
“Such horrors would go unnoticed
If humanity had the heart!”