Sunday, January 5, 2014

the guy outside my window

I saw
a post outside my window.
Far outside.
Through my screen, actually,
of an artist.

It was 3am
and all was black,
the lit window
the artist.

I felt I knew this person,
who seemed so close to me.
Has lived the life
I've lived.

Black sky,
distant stars
I'm not sure what.

But tonight,
I was there.
As I looked up,
there was the lit window I've heard of.

It's not mine.
It's someone's.
Looking down
upon me.
With that same yellowish glow.

I am here.
Fighting my creative self
and yet
there She is

me with
Creative yellow glow.

In the window.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Monday, December 23, 2013

Ultra flash fiction

The smell of the dandelions baking in the sweltering summer heat makes my body tingle.  In the mailbox I find a letter with no return address.  The delicate handwriting makes the tingle into a shiver, then a smile.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Dia De los Muertos? (working title)

How do I reconcile
these bitter
feelings, of
being robbed
of something so dear
and necessary to my
vital signs,
physical, emotional?

With the power
of the cosmos who
only gave me life,
on one, unnegotiable, condition:
That I had to give it back.

There can only be Life
if there is Death.
The black mares must ride at last.
I don't know why
I only know it must be.

It isn't fair,
even if it is the only way.
I want more time.
Not for me,
but to be with those
who've ridden off,
kept their promise.

I'm selfish.
I want them back
for me.
Then after awhile
maybe the black mares
can take us away.

Friday, May 3, 2013

NaPoWriMo 23 -I long for you, Vallarta

I long for Vallarta
like I long for a lost love.

Her beaches are long
smooth, brown
legs.  Flawless.

Disappearing in the distance
up into the mountains
where the plush
green jungle crawls,
down to kiss her,
salty lips.

I miss her touch.
the touch I let go
Thinking I could do better.
Knowing I could do better.
As if this wonderful being
wasn't worthy
of my almighty presence.

My arrogance
would become my
most brutal
and merciless
judge, jury, executioner.

Now I can only
remember her touch.
The warmth of
her breath
as she whispers
in my ear.
Her hands
holding my face.
Telling me to take her.
She needs me,
she's dying for me
and can't stand it
any longer.

Vallarta is my other
lost lover.
Lost, not so much
for arrogance, as
for fear and
insecurity.  Which
is worse.
Losing love out of fear
is never having
felt it in its Super Nova intensity.

But the longing is the same;
A painful emptiness
in my heart.
A shortness of breath which
makes me inhale deeply,
feebly attempting to
push out the suffocation
kick to the stomach.
Finally ending with

Finding a world
where were are together

Trasversing the cobblestoned
streets, moist heat makes my
feet stick to my sandals
and white cotton guayabera
cling to my back.

Through "the arches"
and off towards the sea
dolphins guard
the entrance to the bay.

Old ladies sell
corn on the cob
with cheese, chile and salt.
The churchbell chimes,
by the tower, where
a Mexican Rapunzel
throws down her hair
onto the plaza.

Couples dance
a five man Mariachi
plays along.
My lost love has
found me.
Grabs my hand
and kisses me
with her salty lips.

Two lost loves, together.
If only for a moment,
in my wet eyes.

NaPoWriMo 22(b) My Soul-My Soul

My soul wanders the desert, freezing, looking for it's jacket, its hoodie, the sun blazes down, rays of cold light destroying the atomic fibers of everyday life.

NaPoWriMo 22- A sadomasochistic? Haiku.

Love me. Or hate me.
Don't punish me with the whip
of your indifference.

(obviously, for this to work, you have to pronounce the last word: IN DIF RENCE. Got it??)

ALSO!  This is someone's poem in Spanish, more or less.  but I can't remember who?  This is my translation, which according to some, makes it my own poem, but really, I owe the theme, the feeling, the pulp, to the original person.  I wish I could figure out who!