*
we all walk
bundled up on
winter days
but the dogs
jump for joy
the old man
will not sit by
his fire he takes
himself out
slowly stretching
his steps next
to the lines
of poplars
he will walk to
the end not
a thought
of surrender
.
© 2013
.
*
out of the dark gray morning
the turtle dove calls
same song she plays
on all seasons to call me
out of sleep into the awakened
daily life the tiresome day life
that holds a song or two
such as hers
to keep me standing
.
.
*
1.
winter came early
this year to me
and to so many
others counting
the dead ones
holding tight
to a thin opening
of breath whistling
almost in an out my
house old all of a sudden
2.
I do repeat I love you
to my self five times
at day more really
because it helps
my lungs relax
I feel larger
than life
simply
saying
to myself
I do love you
hold on tightly
3.
all shall pass one day
not today maybe
please not
today
.
.
.
*
if I could just still myself
as birds do when they fly
.
gliding afterward to see
for once what life is about
.
.
*
I may indulge
in upside down
visions a different
point of
view
.
giving you pictures
of reflections
shadows clouds
and waters
.
all fleeting
all temporarily
true
.
You can view me, reading this poem for you, here.
Subscribe to my youTube channel for more poetry on video, would love to see you there as well!
*
fall is coming
with messages
thrown at me from above
over my head as falling
leaves passing by
need I to keep
my hands free
.
.
*
hearing steps
of life carried out
gasping one day
they will be no more
times rolls away
my finger fail to
halt it to stillness
.
.
*
I end up at times
visiting old friends
dinners stretching
.
over time feeding
our souls
the privilege
.
of recalling
the spirit’s
visitations
.
our hearts
a candle burning
quietly
.
steadily shaking
in the evening
breeze leaves
.
we are made to fall
and to die
full of colors
.
when it’s season
.
.
“Not Rosaries Nor Missals” is a collections of poems started on July 2013. This poem comes from that collection.
l
*
life as a bird
an egg in a nest
in unexpected
places hidden
cared for and guarded
with parental
love cracking to
the first light revelation
being fed and
taught to sing
before I could fly out
into everlasting
.
.
.
*
the wildest
is at the bottom
of peace
.
the loneliest
is found among
a crowd
.
the kindest
is yourself forgiving
after rage
.
.
.
Poem from Silente
.
Last week no poems were ever published due to the gravity of George Floyd’s killing and in observance and solidarity of Black Tuesday and Black Lives Matter.
*
in between loving cats
and feeding elders
roaming paths
it was the caressing
with my eyes of the olive
trees barks twisted by
the winds and the lack
of water – is that the look
my soul has – she had no
idea life was business
to attend same the church
and the cats and the elderly
.
.
This poem is part of the collection Not Rosaries Nor Missals.
–
*
they panic no one
around the streets
.
no one in their cars
no noise nor pollution
.
they keep the tv loud
letting anger lash out
.
or let despair cover
their trapped bodies
.
they weep the chance
they resist they curse
.
.
.
*
tonight
the moon is full
emptied from a thousand
engagements I lay in hot
water maybe illuminated
from the sky the silence
repose approaching
hidden from light
an upside down world
a somersault and a wriggle to
find myself wondering star under
inside some lights I turn off
before the thoughts – then the eyes
slightly vibrating
weightless in the space
I found within
*
it is right by the side
of the road the Cathedral
In The Pines Cemetery
as if you could just roll
off the side of the road
dead and ready to lay
where there are no fences
but some more noise to
endure or is it a reminder
when the sun hides
at sunset behind red
blood colored clouds
.
*
time leaving
traces everywhere
victims never
to be avenged
time cannot
be hold it can
be classified
never arrested
and if doing some
serious thinking
we last but the
length of a breath
time shows itself
and swiftly go
.
This poem is part of the bilingual poetry collection California Notebooks 01 on sale on Amazon.
.
