Wednesday, July 4, 2012

El Arte del Amor

Despacio, Despacio. Tenemos toda la noche. Tranquilo, Ten cuidado con mi Corazon. Manana seramos decir, “Adios.” Pero en este momento Nuestro tiempo es la cosa que es el mas importante Solo este tiempo contigo, amor. “Te quiero.” Mis expectativos del este tiempo no son los mismos del mis experiencias. We whisper softly in the growing dusk, Connection ripens, Fecund with soft undertones, Of promise, Like soft wind breathe on my face. Your lips hover against my neck, Soft, downy pillows, on my bare flesh. I feel your breathe on my neck, The slight stubble on your chin, And I shiver softly, Discovering in the warm ocean breeze, a hint of some unexpected future. “Te quiero.” Dispacio, No me duele. Me gusta mucho. Ten cuidado con mi coraz√≥n, mi amor.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Some stuff for Naropa Summer Writing Program

Assignment # 2- Meditate on a piece of trash and then describe it and make it beautiful or alive for the reader.

Vision of an Ashtray

Gray, white, and black dusting of ash lines the base of the aluminum basin.
Watermarks stain the metal in shades of brown, gray, and black.
The pallet dulled with age.
The interior of the can is also stained.
Black smudges spot the walls like constellations.
These are contrasted by a galaxy of white dots, gray debris and sticky, old gum.

Occasional smoke wafts from ill-stubbed cigarette butts.
The smell is at once pleasant, and acrid.
It evokes memories of years as a smoker.
The taste of the inhale, sweet and harsh.
The aftermath, where my mouth felt coated,
As though I had licked the interior of an entire ash tray
Yet somehow-- still attractive.

I am struck by all the colors.
Whites, beiges, dotted with yellow,
Shockingly green filters
With names like Camel.
Warm brown scattering of ancient tobacco crumbles.
INHALE.

Assignment # 5: Think of garbage—contamination or containment. Imagine an elaborate contamination control. Consider: What am I contaminated by? What do I contaminate? What might you do to keep what you wrote from leaking?

Containment

hide the HIDEOUS

They built our new school
on top of an arsenal.

hide the WASTE
bury it
entomb it in concrete

proclaim it clean
proclaim it safe
make it a wildlife preserve

plant native prairie grass
RED, wildflowers grow
bursting from “clean” earth

protect the animals
bring back the buffalo
DARK, silhouettes against pale sky

bring the children
MULTICOLORED, multi-cultural, multiplying--
free public education

free water for everyone
fresh from under the arsenal
certified SAFE

Contained by concrete.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Sonnet 12

If I close my eyes, I can sense you in the darkness.
I taste your skin through scent alone
Longing for your gentle caress, a sense of rightness.
Senses ranging out beyond this space, my mind's eye flown.
Out into the cool night rain
I am full of longing, seeking your kiss.
While my body lays here, my main
Vision is of you, don't want to miss--
Even an instant of what could be
Lost in the flood of this torrent
Of sensuality. Emotions fill me
Sweep me deep beneath the current
I don't care of it drowns me
Long as all your love still surround me.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Sonnet 11

You ask me why I no longer write you love poems
But I do write them, leaving them only in my head.
So now I attempt to spill out the tomes
Carefully treasured, to find where they led.
Each stored line seems to point me back to you
As I navigate through what is me and what is other
I learn there can still be me and you too
My heart tells me I do not seek another.
In each beat, I hear your voice, feel your touch
Little things turn my thoughts constantly your way--
Some might say this is not much
But to me, all the signs seem to say--
This connection is something special, our love too great
To be ignored, I must grab this chance before too late.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Another Love Poem...

The caress of your hand along the hollow of my back,
Your careful fingertips tracing my jawline,
The way you tilt my head to kiss me,
I treasure this in every moment--

You call me beautiful and I believe you--
There's something in your voice,
I remember in my most doubtful moments,
I whisper to myself your sweetest endearments.

Within your arms,
I feel accepted,
Just as I am.
And I watch myself accepting you as you are.

Never in my lifetime,
Have I known such surety,
That I am loved,
Purely as I am.

This might seem like a small thing,
But in truth,
This is everything
I could ever dream of.

This is what naked really is
And I have no desire left
To cover myself up,
Or to be other than I am.

At night,
As I drift into dreams,
I am always
Right beside you, in heart and in mind.

A Sonnet for my Valentine

I have been meditating on your secret picture message for days,
My heart and soul drenched by desire to be beside you
Even across time, across distance, you are near me in so many ways,
When I want nothing more than to lie in bed, thoughts of you prompt me to--
Arise again and meet the day with a smile.
Thinking of you, reminds me of the little joys in this life.
Our love is never stifled by the space of miles,
Not every obstacle before me causes strife.
My mind strays from what is before me, my thoughts drift,
Suddenly I am right beside you, smelling you in my room,
Timeless in your touch, geography is no rift.
Even my body has joined you beneath the moon.
You are my dream both day and night,
Visions of holding you close, fill me with light.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

I had to write...

You are truly the sweetest part of my day,
The reason for my smile,
Even in my darkest times,
I listen, and long for your call.

Your voice brings me joy when I am joyless.
I imagine you in my arms--
When I go to sleep,
I dream that I lay within the curve of your body.

This is a simple missive,
No frills in this poem,
Just my heart on a platter,
My words completely honest.

This is no sonnet for the ages,
No great work that will outlast us--
But what is immortality,
Compared to the treasure that is love?

I would trade a million chances at poetic fame,
Just for the chance to pass time with you.
We cannot know what the future will hold.
We cannot know what track this life will take--

All that we can truly know, is what we have in this moment.
We cannot even know reality,
But this,
This feels real.

The older I grow, the less I am certain of,
Yet when it comes to you,
I know.
Us? I know.