27 November, 2011

Scrabble

Tiled letters hit the board
while we jest and fight
with our own romance.

The triple word score
brightens the minds of the young
while delaying carnal progress.

While reaching into the bag
for random symbols to create force,
we laugh and dance with purpose.

Family Gathering

From the tall to the small,
strange genetic codes emerge
in crinkled smiles and awkward laughs.

We all spend time remembering,
after so much time lost.

Gatherings meant to be formal,
spiral out of control into love
that is elemental and childlike.

We all spend time remembering,
with so much time to come.

The hierarchy of time is metered
and its syncopation requires theory
to understand the beat.

We all spend time remembering,
with so much time well spent.

The Hours

The hours
fall down,
drunkenly attempting
to show
off their
tricks, and
then stupidly
enticing us
to believe
their every
hollow word.

See Saw

You come up and
I come down.

Anxious ancient chemist love
turns electrons sour.

We stare at us,
never seeing clear.

04 November, 2011

Halloween

Three trick-or-treaters
covered in white (bedsheets)
black (witch’s hat)
gray (newspaper),
walk through the autumnal atmosphere
in hopes of gaining calories and smiles.

These three trick-or-treaters
of all different shapes, heights, and intention,
bend down boulevards (Logan)
avenues (Albany)
alleys (spooky),
pausing only to catch up to each other.

Our three trick-or-treaters
bind to each other like valence (electrons)
glue (Elmer’s)
maché (paper)
even at dark hours and with
cumbersome feelings and costumes.

The three trick-or-treaters
marked in cottons (ghost)
velvet (bruja)
paper (conquistador),
head to a house, warmed by patience,
to divide sucrose and part ways.

Gracias!

Floja y Gorda!
Nos debías
haber dicho
cuando sarcásticamente
nos regañaste
por tirar
un chocolate
sin sabor
dentro de
un basurero
sin bote.

Autumn Haiku

Geese town-hall meeting!
Sitting amongst weeping trees,
the moon aches and gleams.

Walls

The shells of the sea
turn into walls and homes.

Lovers part and return,
shy, out of love, but warm.

There are arches that hold up time,
colored, discolored, and pirated.

Fate does not change but its
mysticism leaves us darkened.

Musicality made out of love and notes
combine to solve the passage of time.

Son de Veracruz

La música, columpiando bajo un sol ardiente,
va y viene de la playa y el mercado
comadreando y caminando por el callejón.

Su ritmo es imponente y empalagoso.
Se pega a la piel como goma y gis
sin uno darse cuenta de su poder.

El volumen quiebra el calor que aprieta la garganta.
Con su lujuria y frenesí, hace que el sudor
pueda bailar, disfrutando de la parranda.

La melodía, cuyas notas que describen color, amor, tristeza,
sorprende al Norte que alborota el mar.
Sin ella, el sol se distrae y no deja que salga la luna.

El tiempo trae definición, identificando cuando trabajar
y cuando, muy lentamente, se llega la hora
de descansar bajo un sol ardiente musical.

Recuerdos

Voy vagando por la tierra,
esperando hacer memorias
que me dejan feliz con nostalgia.

Te vi, me viste, nos recordamos,
tratando de prisa, de poder renacer
y sabiendo al mismo tiempo cuantas horas pasaron.

El rencor de la nostalgia nos salpico
con sol y aire de pirata,
mientras que encajábamos nuevamente.

Es verdad, las horas nos dejan sin pasión,
pero el amor nacido bajo neblina y encanto
sigue vagando mientras que nos reímos juntos.