"salvadore" poems
Go where the road untangles and unfurls
by those cliff side views over those blue curls
lit only by those high beams off those white pearls.
Only sense of direction is the road ahead
no going back just only forwards instead
as going prevents drifting to the sea bed.
The white sea foam crashes amongst the shore
those high beams persist only for Salvadore
the light bends around the corner then no more.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 1:58 AM UTC
- I don't do drug's, I am drug's-
Salvadore dali quote......
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
i am looking at it now from afar — that certain kind of pain that would mirror mine; how immense it must be to go through it, and i can only imagine getting out. how immense the pain must be, how terrible, to wish for a kind of comfort only a certain, abrupt finality can bring. i am looking at it now from afar: skin as gray as mine and lately, the daybreak just brings in its rays more nights for us to swallow.
if it brings you any semblance of a cold comfort — the one you seek, i hope you know, i'll die in your place. i wish i can take it all away.
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 3:22 AM UTC
Though you lose, thus becoming an intimate as a lover or friend, brother or sister, parent,
you will always lose through attrition or accident.
We know that 9/11’s are attrition and
love is always an accident, because
we reap what we sow, and never choose whom we love.
Attrition is the rain, forming
from pressure within the skies,
high and low temperatures at Armageddon:
yin and yang becoming earth’s tears.
Accident is the rain, vilifying
the evil of being from these two lessers of the skies,
love is sought but never found or found at odd places:
yin and yang becomes earth’s joy.
Thus, rain is a lie, liar, lying, saying
joy and love at the same time.
But love is not from this world. It is
not recognized, but named… “No” to the world’s belligerence.
We know love is expressed by this action, yes…
Thus, it’s not a lie. Love cannot be otherwise
or we would’ve never crucified the Savior
or our true loves for the world…
Love cannot exist naked.
It is always ready to be whipped, strangled, maimed
as Jesus or a twice victimed Iraqui,
the third world or as Salvadore Allende.*
But I love the rain despite my self.
It is within the reach of definitions
but not confirmations. So, love
like rain cannot be held hostage
by human view nor divine postage.
I love as it rains, I rain as I love.
From here, in my prayer, let my love of rain be love.
*Found in Voices of a People’s History of the United States, by Howard Zinn and Anthony Arnove, and the now canonical historical work of the United States by the same Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States: “Watergate had made both the FBI and the CIA look bad---breaking the laws they were sworn to uphold, cooperating with Nixon in his burglary jobs and illegal wiretapping. In 1975, congressional committees in the House [of Representatives] and Senate began investigations of both the FBI and CIA…It was also learned from the investigation that the CIA---with the collusion of a secret Committee of Forty headed by Henry Kissinger—had worked to ”destabilize” the Chilean government headed by Salvadore Allende , a Marxist who had been elected president in one of the rare free elections in Latin America.” (pp.554). For a more balanced view on the complicity of Kissinger and his role in U.S foreign policy, moreover his role in the death of Allende, see or read the acclaimed movie or book: The Trials Henry Kissinger.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Salvadore Silversteen
was a simple man,
yet, he may be the
strangest man you've ever seen.
His right foot was a whole
2 sizes bigger than his left
and his shoulder was dominated
by a giant mole.
His overly large arms
hung low like a gorilla.
He awoke at 6:13 every morning
promtly, never using an alarm.
In his house, you'll find
not a single timepiece.
The absurdly, accurate time
is stuck in his mind.
He's been here long as I can remember,
starting out each monotonous day the same.
That'll be sixteen years
come this December.
No one is quite sure
exactly what Ol' Sal did,
but he was the wealthiest man
that lived near Yorkshire.
Ol' Sal himself was
intimidating at a distance,
yet, in person,
he's the nicest man-just because.
He calls everyone in town
by thier first names
and in every greeting,
the man never had a frown.
Everywhere he went,
he'd whistle the same dreadful tune.
The theme to that movie
by the name of "Rent."
Two Tuesdays ago, he
vanished without a trace.
His house spotless and in his yard
sprouted a humongous Foxglove tree.
He left or was taken,
but his spirit remains
to protect those who,
otherwise, would be forsaken.
I can still hear the sound
of that familiar theme
everytime I pass by
any lawn freshly mown.
Salvadore Silversteen
was a simple man,
yet, he was definately the
strangest man I've ever seen.
If ever you meet a man
that meets his description,
be kind and courteous
as best you can.
Written By:
Andrew D. Robertson
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC