Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Renounce Guilt, Find Divinity


Mexicans have cultivated a guilt free and blameless approach to life. Even the Spanish language supports this philosophy. For example, if I was looking through my purse or around the house for my keys but couldn’t find them anywhere, I would probably call a friend and complain, “I lost my @#$%^ keys. I feel so stupid!” That’s the gringa rationale in me, I suppose. In Spanish however, one would say “Se perdian las llaves,” ˗˗ my keys have lost themselves. They – the keys – are the stupid ones. In this scenario, I am the hapless victim of my keys inability to find their way home. Now that is divine grace at its finest.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Me Acerco y Me Retiro


Me acerco y me retiro:
¿quién sino yo hallar puedo
a la ausencia en los ojos
la presencia en lo lejos?

Sunday, September 12, 2010

When They Came


When they came
they rode trucks
along the main
road of my youth
they held bayonets
stiffly against
their faces
tongues sticking out
like barbed wire

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Yours: A New York Poem


I spent the afternoon exploring
As much of you as I could
Feeding on your flesh
With my lips and tongue
Illuminated my soul

Thursday, September 9, 2010

First Lines Second Thoughts — The American Crisis


These are the times that try men's souls:
The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will,
in this crisis,
shrink from the service of his country;
but he that stands by it now,
deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Labor Day


The rains that played havoc with your plans were due here by dawn
There were no puddles nor drops when the day began
Pure folly to think that the bales of hay would be brought in under dry skies
The farmers plight is to out-maneuver the weather
A moment passes as the east wind blows foul and the deluge commences

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Take Two


As I walk thru life
I live and learn
Through laughter and tears
I have created this being called me
Action, inaction and reaction
Dictate my course

Saturday, September 4, 2010

From Love and Squalor


When your name is stolen from a book
it's easy to lift lines
I don't know if she knows it
or even if it matters

Friday, September 3, 2010

A Tiny Little Poem


If I started this letter on paper
each time it started in my head
I’d rustle as I walked
and the bed would float
in a sea of paper balls
from all my dreams

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

In a Lunar Groove


No more music, only noise
Attempts to resuscitate
        With each new toy
Only frustration, the ego dance
Like the new toy, it doesn't last
Run to fly
           run for your life