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"adobe" poems
I sit along in the dark bamboo grove, Playing the zither and whistling long. In this deep wood no one would know - Only the bright moon comes to shine.
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5.6k
Bamboo Adobe
Maria Ressa, ano'ng problema? Ba't hanggang ngayon, mukha pa ring lamanlupa? Nagkakalat-lagim sa mga balita Mayro'ng yayari sa'yo. Ito'y kuwento ng.... ....isang BULATE, TUKMOL sa umaga, TUOD sa gabi, Pisngi man niya'y punuin ng kolorete Mukhang BANGAW pa rin, walang silbi Ibaon na ang IMPAKTA. Maria Ressa, ano'ng problema? Bakit mukha pa ring nayuping pugita Mga galamay mo panggulo sa media Mayro'ng yayari sa'yo. Ito'y kuwento ng.... ....mga payaso fake news sa umaga, fact-check sa gabi, mukha nila ay sintigas ng adobe bungo naman laman ay kamote Ututin pa ang bunganga Maria Ressa, ikaw ang problema Hilig **** magkalat ng maling balita at kapag sinita biglang magpapaawa #DefendPressFreedom kuno?! Ito'y kuwento ng.... ....mga bulate walang voter's I.D. banyaga kasi bida-bida, sumasama pa sa rally wala namang bilang, hindi noypi i-deport na sa kangkungan Maria Ressa, walang problema kahit maglaho pa tulad mo sa media Marami pang ibang magbibigay ng balita Walang manghihinayang sa'yo Ito'y kuwento ng.... ....mga bulate!
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Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 10:50 PM UTC
Maria Ressa Theme Song
my belly grows the size of a bag of apricots there is a will at the bottom of a lake that needs retrieving the car sank but the body made it to the shore and changed her name by midnight come springtime the ice melts and the water is back crawling upon shy ankles there are growing pains who find a home between nettles and the hives of adobe wasps i never could cohabitate with nature when they ask at parties where i've been things that are at rest stay at rest
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 6:20 PM UTC
law of inertia
A Tribute A king takes supper on a creaking deathbed. Featureless, winged creatures zoom by the dark condensed windows. Micro parasites build adobe headquarters in his soft tissue. Reaching for a plate, he groans the terabyting howl that’s prescribed with chemotherapy. Qwerty and light from the drugs, he stares at the apple on his tray. Lost in its curves, he finds himself trapped in a safari of memories. A dream devolves upon his downtrodden mind…. The canopy is populated with twittering, angry birds. Pools of social blood attract flies to the googolplex degree. He stumbles through the dell, suspicious forest while a tremulous, fiery fox stalks behind his echoing footfalls. Pixar apes swing from trees chased by grisly, disney men with guns and trucks. A large eye tunes the darkness and blinks red upon an aging mountain lion in shadow’s brush. The sony rays belight foliage in auspicious, plaid-orange hues. This amazon of experience plugs the wanderer into a hard drive of intelligence – a gateway to an encyclopedia of wikis and browsers, expanse enough for any backdrop rooftop audience to be faux-enthralled and eager. There are grumblings in the distance of another engine tromping the scope in search of something new and useless. A rumorous bat upsets the plagiarizing tide of the Atlantic Pea Sea. A snake slinks out of the blossoms clinging to the vines among a macintosh tree and bites the salty flier of the washboard night; cyber venom invades his veins. The average, homeless, bounding, warrior awakens to find a cold supper on his lap and another syringe in his arm. His remaining gums support his teeth as they bite into the apple. He swallows, sighs, and rests his balding, crescent, once-handsome head on the white pillow. The green fruit tumbles gently out of bed and mutely rolls to the floor. With that, Steve Jobs is dead.
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
A Tribute
A Tribute A king takes supper on a creaking deathbed. Featureless, winged creatures zoom by the dark condensed windows. Micro parasites build adobe headquarters in his soft tissue. Reaching for a plate, he groans the terabyting howl that’s prescribed with chemotherapy. Qwerty and light from the drugs, he stares at the apple on his tray. Lost in its curves, he finds himself trapped in a safari of memories. A dream devolves upon his downtrodden mind…. The canopy is populated with twittering, angry birds. Pools of social blood attract flies to the googolplex degree. He stumbles through the dell, suspicious forest while a tremulous, fiery fox stalks behind his echoing footfalls. Pixar apes swing from trees chased by grisly, disney men with guns and trucks. A large eye tunes the darkness and blinks red upon an aging mountain lion in shadow’s brush. The sony rays belight foliage in auspicious, plaid-orange hues. This amazon of experience plugs the wanderer into a hard drive of intelligence – a gateway to an encyclopedia of wikis and browsers, expanse enough for any backdrop rooftop audience to be faux-enthralled and eager. There are grumblings in the distance of another engine tromping the scope in search of something new and useless. A rumorous bat upsets the plagiarizing tide of the Atlantic Pea Sea. A snake slinks out of the blossoms clinging to the vines among a macintosh tree and bites the salty flier of the washboard night; cyber venom invades his veins. The average, homeless, bounding, warrior awakens to find a cold supper on his lap and another syringe in his arm. His remaining gums support his teeth as they bite into the apple. He swallows, sighs, and rests his balding, crescent, once-handsome head on the white pillow. The green fruit tumbles gently out of bed and mutely rolls to the floor. With that, Steve Jobs is dead.
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I'm paying tribute to one of the finest Poets I know, Tony Hoagland. He recently passed away from Pancreatic Cancer at 64 years young. This is one my  absolute favorites and I believe you'll love it also. Romantic Moment After the nature documentary we walk down, into the plaza of art galleries and high end clothing stores where the mock orange is fragrant in the summer night and the smooth adobe walls glow fleshlike in the dark. It is just our second date, and we sit down on a rock, holding hands, not looking at each other, and if I were a bull penguin right now I would lean over and ***** softly into the mouth of my beloved and if I were a peacock I’d flex my gluteal muscles to ***** and spread the quills of my cinemax tail. If she were a female walkingstick bug she might insert her hypodermic proboscis delicately into my neck and inject me with a rich hormonal sedative before attaching her egg sac to my thoracic undercarriage, and if I were a young chimpanzee I would break off a nearby treelimb and smash all the windows in the plaza jewelry stores. And if she was a Brazilian leopardfrog she would wrap her impressive tongue three times around my right thigh and pummel me lightly against the surface of our pond and I would know her feelings were sincere. Instead we sit awhile in silence, until she remarks that in the relative context of tortoises and iguanas, human males seem to be actually rather expressive. And I say that female crocodiles really don’t receive enough credit for their gentleness. Then she suggests that it is time for us to go to get some ice cream cones and eat them.
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Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 3:14 PM UTC
Romantic Moment by Tony Hoagland
I'm paying tribute to one of the finest Poets I know, Tony Hoagland. He recently passed away from Pancreatic Cancer at 64 years young. This is one my  absolute favorites and I believe you'll love it also. Romantic Moment After the nature documentary we walk down, into the plaza of art galleries and high end clothing stores where the mock orange is fragrant in the summer night and the smooth adobe walls glow fleshlike in the dark. It is just our second date, and we sit down on a rock, holding hands, not looking at each other, and if I were a bull penguin right now I would lean over and ***** softly into the mouth of my beloved and if I were a peacock I’d flex my gluteal muscles to ***** and spread the quills of my cinemax tail. If she were a female walkingstick bug she might insert her hypodermic proboscis delicately into my neck and inject me with a rich hormonal sedative before attaching her egg sac to my thoracic undercarriage, and if I were a young chimpanzee I would break off a nearby treelimb and smash all the windows in the plaza jewelry stores. And if she was a Brazilian leopardfrog she would wrap her impressive tongue three times around my right thigh and pummel me lightly against the surface of our pond and I would know her feelings were sincere. Instead we sit awhile in silence, until she remarks that in the relative context of tortoises and iguanas, human males seem to be actually rather expressive. And I say that female crocodiles really don’t receive enough credit for their gentleness. Then she suggests that it is time for us to go to get some ice cream cones and eat them.
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Paradise Men falling from the sky using parachutes of peacock plumage hues The professionals plummeting in perfect spirals The novices sheepishly prolonging their gentle, gliding drop The salmon shade adobe dwellings with their thatched, lovely roofs Shelter me in their auspices from an unforgiving star Handmade tiles of authentic design line each steep stone step A covert staircase leading nowhere, we lounge near the pool by day There I observe a couple through a sour tequila haze A scarlet clad native and her sometime American lover Their hands never leave each other’s guilty bodies, sexually charged His absence of wedding ring betrays his intended affair In the distance crushing waves claim territory on the shoreline I underestimate; in a death roll I lose all sense of direction The blushing sky with rosy smile watches over its children A lighthouse by its lonesome guards the cliffs from clumsy ship Locals sell their wares by approaching fair-skinned tourists Necklaces of beads require long hours of work Their labor goes unappreciated, sells for meager dollar Popcorn man blows his lonely, dissonant horn forever Into the deaf night
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Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 6:17 AM UTC
58. Lighthouse 1/1/11
Get me down to the local band stand traditional and modern grand Cornets, Euphoniums and tuba's in tune I love the sight I'm so immune from the pits of Yorkshire and round the globe Scores resounding from Adobe The Conductor's baton keeps the beat and if its wrong they stamp there feet from amateur to championship all you have is brass to lip contests regional every year and music reading not play by ear!
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Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
Blast from the brass
Adobe skinned mimicry of light, Piece of pebbly lunar surface fallen To misty ******* reverse panoply, Spiny spar of stellar tapestry Nimbly navigating mortared limbs In sultry sea-cellar ballet, Rocky roofed conspirator of clams, Swarthy pirate, silent smithy of shells.
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 10:12 AM UTC
Sea Star
A friend of mine asks, “Why do you only ever write about romance lately?” Well, the answer is quite simple, really. It is because I have tasted it. I tasted it when my eyes first drank the light from his grace when he stood tall above me His saturnine windows called out to me behind flesh curtains whenever he spoke, ever asking me to join him in his ecstasy He, from a distance, darted towards me and pressed our sides together—letting myself melt in the velveteen touch of fabric skin There was a shower of momentary light that night but only his radiance did I bask in. I tasted it in the heart of the stone city where usurpers of old stood on polished stone The Bulwark’s adobe reach embraced our reverie as memories from sleep stories become reality He, in the confines of that venerable fortress, made me vulnerable for I was secure in his arms His fingers are in between my own like woven mithril unbreakable lest he broke its bond himself It is in this kingdom of carven stone and handmade walls that he sang of ardor with a dragon’s petrifying gaze. I tasted it in yuletide storms where men and women waged war with happiness and grief When the armies of pain and suffering fell at our clasped hands and cheeks red from amorous verve you said you were to journey home But you did not let go of my grasp With me you remained and in your arms I stayed As the bitter winds of bigoted mouths blew, as the fire from damnation is declared by self-righteous souls, we stood fast in the storm. I tasted it when he said our love he could no longer endure There we sat, on a tarnished vehicle, as the last of our love gave into rust What is frightening to me peeked from his saturnine eyes and he closed his curtains shut for the downpour of despondency was to come We flooded our façades and the rivers quaked our emotional integrity He held my hand for one final chance before we ripped our wrappings forever apart and he kissed me tender Our lips made love—like the first they ever met in weathered heat—for the last time. I tasted it when I told him “Just do so, when your appetite roars to love me again,” and until now I am waiting. So, why do I ever only write about romance lately? Well, the reason is quite complicated, really. But–but it is because I’ve tasted it.
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 2:00 PM UTC
It Is Quite Simple Really
A friend of mine asks, “Why do you only ever write about romance lately?” Well, the answer is quite simple, really. It is because I have tasted it. I tasted it when my eyes first drank the light from his grace when he stood tall above me His saturnine windows called out to me behind flesh curtains whenever he spoke, ever asking me to join him in his ecstasy He, from a distance, darted towards me and pressed our sides together—letting myself melt in the velveteen touch of fabric skin There was a shower of momentary light that night but only his radiance did I bask in. I tasted it in the heart of the stone city where usurpers of old stood on polished stone The Bulwark’s adobe reach embraced our reverie as memories from sleep stories become reality He, in the confines of that venerable fortress, made me vulnerable for I was secure in his arms His fingers are in between my own like woven mithril unbreakable lest he broke its bond himself It is in this kingdom of carven stone and handmade walls that he sang of ardor with a dragon’s petrifying gaze. I tasted it in yuletide storms where men and women waged war with happiness and grief When the armies of pain and suffering fell at our clasped hands and cheeks red from amorous verve you said you were to journey home But you did not let go of my grasp With me you remained and in your arms I stayed As the bitter winds of bigoted mouths blew, as the fire from damnation is declared by self-righteous souls, we stood fast in the storm. I tasted it when he said our love he could no longer endure There we sat, on a tarnished vehicle, as the last of our love gave into rust What is frightening to me peeked from his saturnine eyes and he closed his curtains shut for the downpour of despondency was to come We flooded our façades and the rivers quaked our emotional integrity He held my hand for one final chance before we ripped our wrappings forever apart and he kissed me tender Our lips made love—like the first they ever met in weathered heat—for the last time. I tasted it when I told him “Just do so, when your appetite roars to love me again,” and until now I am waiting. So, why do I ever only write about romance lately? Well, the reason is quite complicated, really. But–but it is because I’ve tasted it.
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This house in the hills Mountains I should say far from the cities or from people who play I enjoy the solitude the pup who sleeps by me the man who comes back home to endearing company This adobe house, built by human hands. No machinery needed, helping tend the land. The river flowing near, and the magpies who visit. I do enjoy this home, and the people who are in it. Still, this place lacks joy from the kids whos laughter echos through the world from the corners of my mind an emptiness spreads, and i can not help but feel a lonliness instead. I am too young for children I have not learned to teach I have not learned to reach what is needed to find peace so what is it I lack? What more could I seek? Why should I feel a depression that runs this deep? Does my past still hold strong to the young one I once was? What more do I need.. to finally feel strong? Do I not understand, my desire to know more before I bring little ones into this world? who am I anyhow, to mother, to teach To preach any message, to those who know peace. To those who know joy, and more then I remember. To the ones who are divine with enjoying simple pleasures. How can I at twenty two, enjoy my life in simple pursuits?
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
The Lonely Adobe
I’m driving laps around Urique’s unpaved streets with Arnulfo, the world’s fastest ultra-runner up front Chugging tesguino disregarding Young son, Mateas in the back Handing us the 2 liter Coca- Cola bottles, full of the mashy corn brew. The cholos are drinking Tecate, mumbling under the palms stalking the river, watching us break down at ever lap. Arnuflo heaves the truck from behind, alone, screaming and pushing. I snap it into second gear Mateas trembling, and off we go. Arnulfo hopping in smoking more cigarettes passing the tesguino around shouting Rapido! Poco a poco! Andale! Rancherra bumps full blast, the Eternal bumping, beem, boom, up and down Beem, boom, beem, boom Tubas and brass echoing through all the adobe walls meandering all the way down the arroyo to God know’s where. The cholos challenge Arnulfo to a race in their harsh stares under flashy hats and shiny mustaches, Ed Hardy models with sharp pointed snake-skinned boots Ayyeee, Arnulfo says, He won’t race gainst Oscarine who they say is the fastest young Chabochi better than the elders who used to chase down deer, gently twisting their necks after tracking them to an ending exhaustion. Arnulfo tells them I can win as Oscarine snorts more from the bag they pass around from his pocket Off we go twenty yards Around the farthest tree And I win because of Arnulfo's ancient assurance
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
Urique Night Life
A rhythmic whipping of winds on the pine trees, Mescaline mind, staring through tawny windows and thinking of America That easy breezy, ****** wind again, blowing blow from laps of men Tripping on paving slabs, adobe piles and rubble pouring through city streets Thorny throned king calls out his wife's name No response, no reprise, water fills the eyes of the owl as he watches A lizard through the grass with no legs, and the oxford comma blues A rider on horseback, gallop through the gully, hair screaming, maddening flights Frightening nights in the Texas desert as consumptive creatures crawl on broken sand Feel the eyes of the devil, searing the seer and the car that once roamed gaily now fails daily Left in bereavement on the side of a road Crying into calloused hands, wailing for the whale's lost daughter Sea-dive, see me dive, watch me drive, across country, to a home I will know When I see it.
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
Daydream Nation, Wide Open Spaces With Inexplicable Doors Swung Open
it’s like the fires that have ravaged this breathless land, refusing to relent, and the parched clouds that fall against the rolling adobe hills. it’s like the fire of red and orange ombré spilling into the abiquiu, a halo of lush greenery rushing toward the water. like yesterday’s wind, my breathing is shallow and dry, choking on the depth of your hazy breath that curls from the corner of your lips. i drove on heat waves for miles as i watched fires crawl into the mountains, down into the skeletal rivers that are nothing but stony memories. the earth is bony, long fingers of dead streams crushed in the grasp of 115 degrees. this morning, i lay gasping in your arms, remembering the temptation of your breath as we sat in the moon’s silent ebb. the fires, they will burn more until there is nothing left but the naked and raw land, and then the rains will come again and wash the ash and the mud away. but with you, i will never call for a raindance, knowing the only way i will burn is when you are filling me with fire.
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
the taste of your cigarette on my tongue
across the river the trickle of what was once Grande I see them, huddled in their adobe squares as the sizzling sun settles quiescently leaving them in shielded shadow then come the cook fires, for the maize, the frijoles, smoking the night sky filling their bellies, filling my eyes with visions of them, some silent some filled with mirth, and song   all with hope or fear   as the moon paints their crusty hillsides silver some will lie with one another--some will join in longing, liquid union, planting sweet sighed seeds of hope   others, alone, will fall into dread dreams, while winds weep and mix with coyote howls a few will even hear the owls call their names   though the gift of eternal darkness may yet be light years from their wretched huts I may be there to see the sun rise again and repeat life's one act play, anon and anon, or something may close my own tired eyes, before the glory of their suffering can be played again
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Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 9:20 AM UTC
they are well, those of the stones
wheat in color a tan adobe almost red a genderless bone hollow and ossified I donate this day to you I enmesh my soul into the air the harvest all the while standing still
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Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 4:32 PM UTC
Untitled
Father Mckenzie   Turk’s Head teased my shadow free last evening along the arroyo our separation minute yet edging toward the clement lip accruing like the thunder eggs I keep in a jar by the door God long since departed, drifted away on the high desert wind that drew us here long ago rifled pages of the Book Of Common Prayer. A sodden breeze from home last night a tang of salt, a churchyard hush low plaint of cello’s lurking around these adobe walls for a way inside my callow words returned to claim their hollow sound and mouth all that was left unsaid an old man darning socks in the night when nobody’s there crossing the room to leave the door ajar to old sermons bible black sky pierced with diamonds.
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Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 8:43 AM UTC
Father Mckenzie
They all hate me when I'm broke They gon hate me when I'm rich I be Holding to the rope Feeling like POP I'm gonna rip Just wanna make sense Wanna make bands Not make fans Those aint friends Just wanna make my millys Not looking silly Like '17 when I was popping killy I was broke then, But I was happier Knew me then, I was dappier Feeling trapped at my abode A man with a plan, but nowhere to go Wanna edit the bad like using adobe Mansion sit down, while wearing my robes But I'm so alone, I'm sipping patrone Got 7k fans But nowhere to blow I'm making my moves Just to make me happy Under the success My whole life is ****** I wish I was different I wish I was listening To all of the people Who told me be different My phone never dry Got notifs all day Signed 80 nice artists They'll make it one day What's wet last night It's my pillow case The tears got dried Can't look at my face Don't want more space Cause I have the galaxy Feel isolated Want them to come back for me Lost a fake friend last night 4 Years gone right They DC no Superman Thought we was tight.
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Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 3:35 PM UTC
The Path To Success is Lonely
The air is crisp. Crisp, that is the word my dad used to describe Gwen's voice after the No Doubt concert. I was eight then. Crisp, the word I thought of, when I was flicking that brown lighter I thought it would be funny to buy, sitting on the stoop. Striking the wheel, careful not to hit the little red button. The air swept against the sunglasses I paid too much for with the lenses that are mismatched and the sweater my mom bought me two christmases ago that originally I hated. Falling leaves drift by those little windows to my soul but I am too distracted by the thought of him coming to pick me up to try to attach them back to the tree. Too bad too, because with every leaf detached, comes winter further on my face. Thats when the crystals fall from my dreams, and cover the once adobe hills in spells of skyscrapers. Those are the guys who form tools out of my can of hairspray and chip at the ozone trying to scrape off the blue, and see what all that paint is covering. Icarus is horrified.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
When the trees start to molt.
Never before have I faced such a formidable foe as Adobe Photoshop I give in, it has bested me. Oh **** it, I need to make this rhyme. Holy komodo dragons, a bee...
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Untitled
A million bumping heads Rendered in coherence An enigma just beside me As rises the height With a soothing delight Playing with resilience inside me Goes she, leaving with a smile Leaving me with a smile Bending over a mile I look forward to an exile Into the lively adobe To a turbulent surprise Let me promise to be back soon In your paradise in disguise
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC
A Million Bumping Heads
The college kids still pump out poems; my heroes haven't published a book in years. The academics are moving to visual arts kerning letters on the page, adding artist statements. Fuego en juventud. Sabiduría en viejo. Passion fades with age, I suppose. A symptom of the cult of happiness. And I love to read poems from twenty-somethings who just want to get ****** I picture my red pen exciting them as I destroy their fine-tuned metaphors, all muddled with conflicting allusion, as if juxtaposition alone adds meaning. In school, it was all Cezanne and hydrogen jukebox birdsongs, and equally interesting but useless adjective strings. The academics are doing the same, but with form. It bores us, don't they know? Fuego en juventud. Sabiduría en viejo. **** these kids for having such easy means to publication. I read their journals, their magazines, their "editions" online, vivid, vomiting color and opinion. I long for publishing classified ads and scribbled chalk portraits of the women I loved and the twenty-somethings who just wanted to get ****** and reflections of how I never mastered either craft. I long to rub the ink off newsprint in my fingers, smudge the words on the page and ***** my hands, watch the chalk run into the red brick during ten-minute monsoons, smell the library's adobe, light a cigarette and remember that the stacks are filled with ages of greater work than these ******* kids... and these ******* academics. Greater than me.
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Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 5:04 AM UTC
Rookies
I have an adobe where I run whenever I want to be in solitude I call it my one-word poem Between a meadow and a lemon tree along the edge of a grassland. Where everything in the world become quite and wither away. You are the tranquil stillness after the rumbling of a stormy storm the forgiving words that fill my sky and caresses a burned soul You become a rain in an endless conversation Sometimes a road map to the world unfolds With a touch When I leave I leave A slice of an umbrella   We hold nothing But a deep kiss In your unseen soul
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC
stillness
codex painter have your hands rusted is this world not  as vivid as the one centuries ago the one that bore the same tint, rich in intent to serve, to devotedly work head inclined over the flaming light and under the celestial stars pictograms are what I now reach for from the vessels tucked behind my ears from the smell of copper and the tastes of adobe pots, simmering with memories, to the corneas anchoring my vision because I must have a vision the "it" becomes what we intend and I intend "it" give me your codices unfold the fibers of the agave plant and let me paint again this world larger this lifetime kinder for I have always been a scribe and a painter and my heart rejoices in service to an existence expanding to meet itself in the eyes of all who I dare draw
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 12:11 AM UTC
Codex Painter
This house, it does not speak of me I am unknown to these adobe walls these cool clay floors I press my feet against wanderlust, I dance desert nights alone, roam these sands to drink and drink of moon thirst for stars to call me home I travel endless nights painted blue with black wait until sunlight warms my room once more to bloom in wild fields with you
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
In wild fields
At the third world's first sun, the Anasazi climbed through a narrow Sipapu and pressed footprints in the dust of a new unspoiled universe. In secluded canyon hollows watered by softly chanting springs, they piled rocks upon stones shaping vast adobe cities mortared with pastes of moistened clay. At Mesa Verde - Chaco - de Chelly fields of maize sway, brushed by the canyon winds while Pueblos danced in the plazas below to the throbbing beats of skin-stretched hollow log drums. Today their children’s children circle fire pits in sacred Kivas raising chants and prayers to their hallowed ancestors. Wearied by famine and conquest, Pueblo eyes scan the heavens searching for a new Sipapu to lead them to a better world still. September 11, 2006
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Sipapu