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Jean Rojas Dec 2015
For the least time
I held your stare
Traveling the distant nowhere
In the outer recesses of space
Brief moments of gaiety
Are but overused
Memories to be replayed
Silenced the night whose
Stillness can be heard
Loud and clear.

For the last time
I embrace the shadows
Hovering about you
Memorizing each trace
Of darkness
Each line and each
Hallow vision
Savoring the few minutes
Of private contact
With your negative image

For the last time,
I thought
I came so very close
To you
Advancing in inches
And inches so near
Conquering the barriers
Of fear
And demolishing the
Brick walls of time
Command now this life
That was lived
In the briefest of happiness

For the first time
Before the dust
Shall blot out
All memories of today
Let the past give way
And the future stay
If only to rectify mistakes
And restore your good name

But life goes on cruelly
And like a theater’s curtains
Must fall
On us all

So for the last time
I said my goodbyes
Remembering your stare
Out of nowhere
Remembering your shadows
And your pain
Never have I felt
Your presence more strongly
As I kissed your shadows to rest
For the very last time……
For: Wallace Reid
        1993
Jean Rojas May 2015
Verses out of rhyme
From prophets to poets
Out of line
Corridors of restless passages
Form this abode of passion
Of mine
In countless manifestations
Upon seeking representations
To salvage this predicted downfall
About to be genuinely fulfilled

What say you
To my fate in this
Displeasure?
Hiding the crimes
That people must censure
Getting a fix
And giving a trick
Being used like a workhorse
Before my staying power
Is over….

Can I make myself
Come to terms
With failures for fortune
Riding the crest
Of my oblivious popularity
Will they remember
Or can they see?
When white men
Would drag me
To the cell of my death?

I belong here, don’t I?
Like verses out of rhyme

I close my eyes
To nurture the *****
Of this solution
They must inject inside
Of me
To dissolve me
In the fading background
Like lingering shadows
That will never take shape
I brought my hands up
To touch my cheeks
I wipe the bitter tears
As I lay me down
To sleep…….
For: Wallace Reid
1992

— The End —