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"animas" poems
Southwestern Dis-United States of Memory Piñon smoke and sagebrush, voice of New Mexico night driving into an Arizona dawn rising over dreaming pueblos, low-ridden plazas, kivas and ruined cities’ rubble traced and highlighted by sunlight, Anglo angling into Aztec toward Zuni over arid zones… A to Z to El Dorado; a voice covers the high hills with a dusting of snow—every word hangs in the notes of the song: music to fall apart to, breakdown to, hurling the soul  into the bottomless well of psychotic nostalgia: música de cavanga, falling into the depths. Melody pushing to the threshold of a bar and leaving you there with cash in your pocket and no ride home. The warmth inside beckons—you step across as the song fills, swells, intoxicates, then excavates the wall of the dam until it collapses. The fatal mistake: you read too much into the lyrics of shallow love songs. The deathwish beast of despair arises, the flooded plains dazzle your eyes, the Indian girl smiles on the rim of the grand canyon, the tattooed cholo pulls a knife in the trailer park, the dark waters under the bridge murmur and surge with regret; el río de Las Animas, Durango CO, Aztec calligraphy on the wall: Las Cruces, NM; Clifton, Morenci, Globe, AZ: stepped pyramids of copper tailings, gang-warred walls in fallen barrios covered in Chicano hieroglyphics, the ruined huts of shepherds and cowboys, pit-house dwellings’ flaked arrowheads and pottery fragments scattered forever in the coyote laugh of desert dusk. Crepuscular colors on the names of mountain ranges: Santa Catalina, Sangre de Cristo, Sandia, each one a separate sunset delirium—then you ride through the night to the city of palm trees and the orange-lined boulevards of Heaven. The singer herself grew old but her YouTubes live forever.
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Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 9:37 PM UTC
Lindísima
Southwestern Dis-United States of Memory Piñon smoke and sagebrush, voice of New Mexico night driving into an Arizona dawn rising over dreaming pueblos, low-ridden plazas, kivas and ruined cities’ rubble traced and highlighted by sunlight, Anglo angling into Aztec toward Zuni over arid zones… A to Z to El Dorado; a voice covers the high hills with a dusting of snow—every word hangs in the notes of the song: music to fall apart to, breakdown to, hurling the soul  into the bottomless well of psychotic nostalgia: música de cavanga, falling into the depths. Melody pushing to the threshold of a bar and leaving you there with cash in your pocket and no ride home. The warmth inside beckons—you step across as the song fills, swells, intoxicates, then excavates the wall of the dam until it collapses. The fatal mistake: you read too much into the lyrics of shallow love songs. The deathwish beast of despair arises, the flooded plains dazzle your eyes, the Indian girl smiles on the rim of the grand canyon, the tattooed cholo pulls a knife in the trailer park, the dark waters under the bridge murmur and surge with regret; el río de Las Animas, Durango CO, Aztec calligraphy on the wall: Las Cruces, NM; Clifton, Morenci, Globe, AZ: stepped pyramids of copper tailings, gang-warred walls in fallen barrios covered in Chicano hieroglyphics, the ruined huts of shepherds and cowboys, pit-house dwellings’ flaked arrowheads and pottery fragments scattered forever in the coyote laugh of desert dusk. Crepuscular colors on the names of mountain ranges: Santa Catalina, Sangre de Cristo, Sandia, each one a separate sunset delirium—then you ride through the night to the city of palm trees and the orange-lined boulevards of Heaven. The singer herself grew old but her YouTubes live forever.
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returning to the place.. to remembered beds and nourishing breakfasts.. home of our growing years.. this one nestled in imponderable Animas mountains.. these reflections of an autumn retreat now daily receding into November bleak.. a white bench vantage by streamside afforded absorption of the stream's flickering lights.. and later reflected by a ridgeline full moon decorating the dining.. life friends together celebration and renewal of many good years.. a white bench also gathered reflections from distant heights where nighttime chills painted evergreen and aspen setting lanterns aglow.. the glow casting shadows on the valley's red cliffs those red markers of our formative days.. a white bench now gathered the sounds.. an old train's whistled announcements evening and morning.. a reminder of time enclosed in this valley of stillness which we were favored knowing once more.. a white bench gathered the guests from distances afar.. their life glows and shadows in conversations revealed.. overlaying past with present.. end and beginning.. Logwood we returned...
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 6:14 PM UTC
Logwood
If the wind is parch white And the universe stops And listens to the words Shape and form on the tip of my tongue *Vultis nosse? Vis sentiunt?* Could I chip away the walls that separate our bodies? Medio claustra potui dirumpere animas? It would seem foolish, huh? Funny, how hurt is so heavy. Funny, how desiderium clarius est quam amor aliquando Chant these ancient hymns And press your lips against the sound of eternity: *et orate et orate Amo te*
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Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 11:22 PM UTC
Ego Rogo Te
En la cúspide radiante que el metal de mi persona dilucida y perfecciona, y en que una mano celeste y otra de tierra me fincan sobre la sien la corona; en la orgía matinal en que me ahogo en azul y soy como un esmeril y central y esencial como el rosal; en la gloria en que melifluo soy activamente casto porque lo vivo y lo inánime se me ofrece gozoso como pasto; en esta mística gula en que mi nombre de pila es una candente cábala que todo lo engrandece y lo aniquila; he descubierto mi símbolo en el candil en forma de bajel que cuelga de las cúpulas criollas su cristal sabio y su plegaria fiel. ¡Oh candil, oh bajel, frente al altar cumplimos, en dúo recóndito, un solo mandamiento: venerar! Embarcación que iluminas a las piscinas divinas: en tu irisada presencia mi humildad se esponja y se anaranja, porque en la muda eminencia están anclados contigo el vuelo de mis gaviotas y el humo sollozante de mis flotas. ¡Oh candil, oh bajel: Dios ve tu pulso y sabe que anonadas en las cúpulas sagradas no por decrépito ni por insulso! Tu alta oración animas con el genio de los climas. Tú conoces el espanto de las islas de leprosos, el domicilio polar de los donjuanescos osos, la magnética bahía de los deliquios venéreos, las garzas ecuatoriales cual escrúpulos aéreos, y por ello ante el Señor paralizas tu experiencia como el olor que da tu mejor flor. Paralelo a tu quimera, cristalizo sin sofismas las brasas de mi ígnea primavera, enarbolo mi júbilo y mi mal y suspendo mis llagas como prismas. Candil, que vas como yo enfermo de lo absoluto, y enfilas la experta proa a un dorado archipiélago sin luto; candil, hermético esquife: mis sueños recalcitrantes enmudecen cual un cero en tu cristal marinero, inmóviles excelsos y adorantes.
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El candil
En la cúspide radiante que el metal de mi persona dilucida y perfecciona, y en que una mano celeste y otra de tierra me fincan sobre la sien la corona; en la orgía matinal en que me ahogo en azul y soy como un esmeril y central y esencial como el rosal; en la gloria en que melifluo soy activamente casto porque lo vivo y lo inánime se me ofrece gozoso como pasto; en esta mística gula en que mi nombre de pila es una candente cábala que todo lo engrandece y lo aniquila; he descubierto mi símbolo en el candil en forma de bajel que cuelga de las cúpulas criollas su cristal sabio y su plegaria fiel. ¡Oh candil, oh bajel, frente al altar cumplimos, en dúo recóndito, un solo mandamiento: venerar! Embarcación que iluminas a las piscinas divinas: en tu irisada presencia mi humildad se esponja y se anaranja, porque en la muda eminencia están anclados contigo el vuelo de mis gaviotas y el humo sollozante de mis flotas. ¡Oh candil, oh bajel: Dios ve tu pulso y sabe que anonadas en las cúpulas sagradas no por decrépito ni por insulso! Tu alta oración animas con el genio de los climas. Tú conoces el espanto de las islas de leprosos, el domicilio polar de los donjuanescos osos, la magnética bahía de los deliquios venéreos, las garzas ecuatoriales cual escrúpulos aéreos, y por ello ante el Señor paralizas tu experiencia como el olor que da tu mejor flor. Paralelo a tu quimera, cristalizo sin sofismas las brasas de mi ígnea primavera, enarbolo mi júbilo y mi mal y suspendo mis llagas como prismas. Candil, que vas como yo enfermo de lo absoluto, y enfilas la experta proa a un dorado archipiélago sin luto; candil, hermético esquife: mis sueños recalcitrantes enmudecen cual un cero en tu cristal marinero, inmóviles excelsos y adorantes.
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64
psy·che·del·icˌsīkəˈdelik/adjective adjective: psychedelic 1. relating to or denoting drugs [especially LSD] that produce hallucinations and expansion of consciousness. synonyms: [ hallucinatory, trippy], dream-like, mind-bending, mind-altering, mind-expanding, mind-blowing, bizarre, surreal: "a psychedelic experience" relating to or denoting a style of rock music originating in the mid 1960s, characterized by musical experimentation and drug-related lyrics. denoting or having an intense, vivid color or a swirling abstract pattern. "a psychedelic T-shirt" synonyms: colorful, chromatic, multicolored, vivid, abstract "psychedelic design" noun: psychedelic; plural noun: psychedelics [1. a psychedelic drug] 1950s: formed irregularly from psyche _1_ + Greek dēlos ‘clear, manifest’ + -ic: psy·che _1_ ˈsīkē/noun: psyche; plural noun: psyches the human soul, mind, or spirit. "their childhood made them want to understand the human psyche and to help others" synonyms: soul, spirit, (inner) self, ego, true being, inner man/woman, persona, subconscious, mind, intellect; technical: _anima_ "getting in touch with your own psyche" antonyms:                              [body] mid 17th century: via Latin from Greek psukhē ‘breath, life, soul.’ an·i·ma ˈanəmə/noun                ANALYTICAL PSYCHOLOGY noun: anima; plural noun: animas Jung's term for the feminine part of a man's personality. the part of the psyche that is directed inward, and is in touch with the subconscious. 1920s: from Latin, literally ‘mind, soul.’
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Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
psychedelicism
psy·che·del·icˌsīkəˈdelik/adjective adjective: psychedelic 1. relating to or denoting drugs [especially LSD] that produce hallucinations and expansion of consciousness. synonyms: [ hallucinatory, trippy], dream-like, mind-bending, mind-altering, mind-expanding, mind-blowing, bizarre, surreal: "a psychedelic experience" relating to or denoting a style of rock music originating in the mid 1960s, characterized by musical experimentation and drug-related lyrics. denoting or having an intense, vivid color or a swirling abstract pattern. "a psychedelic T-shirt" synonyms: colorful, chromatic, multicolored, vivid, abstract "psychedelic design" noun: psychedelic; plural noun: psychedelics [1. a psychedelic drug] 1950s: formed irregularly from psyche _1_ + Greek dēlos ‘clear, manifest’ + -ic: psy·che _1_ ˈsīkē/noun: psyche; plural noun: psyches the human soul, mind, or spirit. "their childhood made them want to understand the human psyche and to help others" synonyms: soul, spirit, (inner) self, ego, true being, inner man/woman, persona, subconscious, mind, intellect; technical: _anima_ "getting in touch with your own psyche" antonyms:                              [body] mid 17th century: via Latin from Greek psukhē ‘breath, life, soul.’ an·i·ma ˈanəmə/noun                ANALYTICAL PSYCHOLOGY noun: anima; plural noun: animas Jung's term for the feminine part of a man's personality. the part of the psyche that is directed inward, and is in touch with the subconscious. 1920s: from Latin, literally ‘mind, soul.’
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I was walking in the woods I was followed by your ghost Your the girl that I had drowned Face down in my blood You drank in the spit that I sprayed upon the floor as a texture to paint feelings upon a wall of ribs of a calf to grate your skin and my skin together An alloy of animas We shall carve with your cold faded hand into the knot of a heart wood forever in this copse Wriggling to corpse in Dead in the soil Our wedding bed Flaky shaky and spineless As we should have been We've always been the molded crown lining the ceiling watching others live. The pine mounts the ground To behead us. We finally accept and egress towards the detritus floor The needles shaking as we quake ever closer to the firmament ground where we were born Becoming the fungus we love so dear You're my slime mould
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Just Something To Add
Un rimador obscuro que no proyecta sombra, un poeta maduro a quien ya nadie nombra, hizo este libro, amada, para vaciar en él como turbia oleada de lágrimas y hiel. Humilde florilegio, pobre ramo de rimas, su solo privilegio es que acaso lo animas tú, con tu santo soplo de amor y de ternura, desde el astro en que estás. ¡Un dolor infinito labró en él con su escoplo tu divina escultura, como un recio granito, para siempre jamás!
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439
I. este libro
Grey fills the sky The sun gets covered And everything becomes cold and dark The animals go into hiding The flowers close up Everything is preparing for the impact Lightning strikes Then thunder sounds Then it pours And pours And pours Until all the clouds pass And the sun can show again The animas come out And the flowers open up again
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 3:44 AM UTC
Rain
Chemical spill Into Animas river Involuntary terrorism Affecting millions
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
From a TINY JOURNAL OF GIANT THOUGHTS--new entry
Animas, A coin toss The rippling ends of lungs Spread as butterfly wings Carting untreated days of insanity Between you and me Seasons no longer fling Rites of time As days Intermittently Woven of boiling creativity Beading atop the surface football scrimmages Sliding links of clothing, slipping virginity… They escape between treated fingertips And run the sun from our lips Mother Nature dancing from the hip God’s unauthorized authorship
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
Mind, Soul