Between the blacks of bending trees
I meet the moon at in betweens
I glimpse her glories, wild and worn
Aglow atop a stirring storm

Oh breathing birches blown about
Beneath her silver silence
Beyond the fields I farthest see
Along the dark horizon

There the hymns of heavy winds
Beyond the blown and gloomy leas
Where ghostly grass and rushing reeds
Dance darkly 'round my falling feet

I raised my sight towards the heavens, and stared deep into the night.

There is no sound but the sound of silence, or maybe the sound of space out of sight.

On earth I have seen many wonders, but none like the sky when alight.

Scattered stars into the black glitter, some fairly dim and some glow too bright.

Some for the naked eye are clear, to saddened hearts they bring delight.

In some you can see formations, but others are too far apart.

To man the universe may seem simple, or just a display of celestial art.

A vast knowledge beyond our comprehension, Godly creation that we can’t explain.

Some knowledge mankind has mastered, but what lies beyond will drive you insane.

I see a shooting star there in the distance, in silence a humble servant I remain.

in my dreams
i am drowing in a sea of emotion.
my head held just below the surface of the water
and all i have to breathe through is a straw

The moon and the stars
are so beautiful when I look at them with
Drunken romance in my eyes.
The low hanging moon reminds me vainly
Of my lover's brown and beautiful eyes.
The stars spread out on the inky charcoal of night have painted
My destiny so that it collided
with that of my lover.
The dark blue and blackish expanse of the night sky above my head
Feels so magical like my lover's
dark hair touching my face.
The night lingers on like a sweet melody
One that reminds me of them.
The calm sounds of nocturnal birds
Alive at this hour reminds me of
Passionate and sleepless nights.
In this midnight hour, these animals of prey
Devour their prey, satisfying
Their long drawn hunger,
Just like you and me.
Very much alive in the devil's hour,
When the fog of madness and passion
Descended upon us like the mist settling in the treetops at night.
At night, we became one,
As you bit my skin and drew out blood.
You devoured me in mad hunger,
As the jackals howled sarcastically almost taunting that our love was a bad omen.

She wanders the lost streets of her city
She was looking for the shining lights of Las Vegas
But this streets here a gritty
The City that is for its casinos famous

She went through hell
Just to visit Las Vegas and its lights
She loved the city's spell
The sound of the slot machines in the nights

And at next morning she tells with a fragile voice
I was in Las Vegas, the city of lights, yes I was there
I was at the place of my choice
She said she loved the flair

But actually she wanders through her lost youth
She wanders through a fake reality
But she didn't wanted to know the truth
She lived her live in duality

But the day came, where she didn't came back from her trip
She had never luck at the slot machines in Las Vegas
In her hand her last chip
To everyone she was nobody, to us she was famous

My Night With Paul Simon
(Posted originally on June 5, 2013)

On the night train, the red eye plane,
Flying home to NYCeeeeeeeeeeeee,
From the city of Los Angeleeeeeeez

Feeling flush, dropped some cash,
Got me a seat in extra large first class

Seat 2C, plenty of room for my toes,
To wiggle  to dance, lay down some poetry tracks,
pretending I'm a **** jive,
bad *** from the
make-believe west coast

A short guy, with fedora down low,
An older man,
looking about nine years older
than somebody I might know,
hiding his eyes @ 9pm
neath some excellent Raybans,
slip slides into 2D,
gives me a smile,
And says Hi, I'm Paul

I look once at his face and say,
Listen Rhymin' Simon,
I'd know you any place,
No worries, your secret,
with me is safe,
Cause dudes in row 2,
gottta stick together, be cool,
We're riding first class,
over the land of the free

What ya do for a living he asks,
A little of this and a little of that,
All of which, ain't no **** good at!
So I spend my cold, hard time
laying down cold hard verse,
Can't stop, cause it's my daddy's dying curse

He said that's cool,
I like to do that too.
Guitars on planes
drive passengers insane,
They take up too much
overhead compartment space,
I just scribble me some rhymes and
Let the music come
when I got two feet
on the ground in the city
we both come from.

Paul:  You got any stuff writ
on that yellow sheet,
or just pretty blue lines,
a big pad of nothing?

Dude: Man you may got diamonds
on the soles of your shoes,
But pay me some 'spect,  
you talking to the man who penned
Sad Eyed Teenagers of the Lowland
on Hello Poetry, gad ****!

Paul smiled and said
you can call me Al,
And if you feel like blowing some lines together,
We got five hours till we can see
the house that Ruth built.

Dude: Hit me with your best shot,
I'll show you what I got

Paul: And she said honey take me dancing
But they ended up by sleeping
In a doorway
By the bodegas and the lights on
Upper Broadway
Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes

Dude: Just cause the union of the  monkeys
in the Bronx Zoo done gone on strike,
Don't mean the lion ain't
still king of the hill
inside this New York city jail

Paul: And the sign said,
"The words of the prophets are written
on the subway walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered
in the sounds of silence

Dude: A home-grown poet.
I am
Soul enslaved to words.
The alphabet - My oxygen molecules,
I am both,
Addict and dealer
A ****** poet
******

Paul: You don't need to be coy, Roy
Just listen to me
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee
And get yourself free

Dude: Contact with the atmosphere
makes self pity die,
blue blood turn red,
the TNT tightness in my chest exploded
I got no place
to store these words,
the cops think I'm
some kind of
Terrorist

On and on thru the night,
Riffing, rapping, rambling, and spitting,
Ditties and darts, couplets and barbs,
Single words and elegies,
Free verse and a lot of fking curse words,
It was a moment, a time
that deserved
to be preserved,
and so this poem got writ

You may think this story apocryphal
Which is another way of saying untrue,
But I got his boarding pass and it is signed,
To this crazy poetry dude, long may you rasp,
And it is signed by Mr. P. Simon, a big fan,
And it has never since that day,
Left my grasp

Night cascaded her dark robes overhead
She enthralled me with her children--
And, I stood there
Captivated and Bewitched.

How the crescent blooms so full !?
Veiled by the solar glare--
Yet, so beautiful
Sterling sisters splay across their Mother's robe
Between the black folds, twinkling stars danced merrily
                         So full of joy, so full of hope