Monday, October 29, 2012

Flying leaves

Sacred roots held to the sowing moment
Opulent, the trees tell stories of quiet mists,
Droughts, whereabouts of so many hearts
It keeps the memory of baby birdies
The resting place of butterflies
The little boy whom will live forever shrouded by glimpses of his own childhood
A grandmother sweeping leaves with a straw broom, a broom made of dead leaves
Leaves that once transcended the green photosynthesis
from the rainbow hidden in the white light
light from a distant sun
The leaves of yucca chopped into bowls of soup to be served to the plastic dolls
Play Indians with headpieces made out of coconut leaves
Winged by children’s dreams
Scorched leaves crackling in the fire, charred
discarded leaves fading into ashes
leaves at the dinner table
exotic flavored leaves
Tender leaves, dry leaves,
Poisonous leaves covering the sex at the first awakeners of science
The boy lifts it to the sunlight outside
Trying to read his destiny written on the green veins
and drink water from it in pure fountains
while a shaman squeezes the heeling juices into bows full of hope
Leaves flying in the wind
Whirling dancers ate the moment’s pulse
Describing arabesques, lines, hieroglyphs
Crackling silent from the twigs crying their loss
Leaves laying on soft ground
Buried, expecting the metamorphosis of time
To transform them in sap to new leaves to come

Monday, October 22, 2012

Welcome home

Longing to be there
where the grass is greener
the homes edified on the rocks
where the fire burns inside a plentiful kitchen
with a cat watching the horizon on the window
A home without locks
a heart without mock
I long to hear the children filling the house
To harvest the apples
from the tree which branches tap at the bedroom window
to run, to fill the lungs with more air I could ever breath
I long to soak into the blue
arms open wide
mind flying where not even birds can fly
I long to have my feet stained green from the fresh grasses
To wear my children hanging everywhere
to laugh until almost explode
I want to cure my own cheese
to raise my own
to gaze at the sublime light of the sun
blinding in glory my dreams
to feel the soft breeze as hypnotized by the moon
as the stars tell me their secrets written in music
I long to hear the sound of the stars
to see them reflected on the happy faces surrounding me
faces of the children I will never meet
while the fire burns and we all sing by the fireplace
The oldest plays the guitar, smiling with pearly grin
the house smells of fresh bread
and the snow outlines the ground of ethereal glare
Where you can ride the pink bike down the coast
collecting the wild flowers to fill the baskets
and run after the little ones who want to chase butterflies
I long to have a picnic on the beach
and have my self distilled wine
a very deserved glass of wine served in rustic cup
observing them jumping the calm waves
I long to go back the hill so tired
with the whiny children falling asleep as they go
to finally walk home
a never locked home
with lavender at the front door
and a wooden plaque I carved:

Thursday, October 11, 2012


Helen Kellers in life
trying to decipher the code
from inside the egg
there is a blind crowd out there
who does not speak
who does not hear the vain peep
the voice crying in the wilderness
Don't I make myself clear?
Or are you ignoring what I say?
When you ignore, you annihilate
and I no longer exist
Don't lock me in the dark closet
yes, I beg
the instrument to make us see
is in your hands
it's like what a mother said
you must be kind, listen
What happened to kindness?
Do not step with dirty feet
on the sacrate ground of others ideas
Helen Keller still in the dark
waiting on the password to be

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

The Clock

The clock
is ticking
tic tac
tac tic
your watch
watching you
less one
less one
seconds dripping
while you race
at your fastest pace
no time
to see the changes
on your face
snap a picture
hope for a time
in time
you will gaze at this past
You look at clocks
clocks ticking
tic tic tic
this is your test
please hurry
you must be fast
you will have no grass
to make your nest
but be fast
don't be last
you won't last
Now is the only time
don't spend it in rest
do your best
your mission is conquest