Arte Soy

Imagine the sound of a dog panting, haahahaahahaahahaaha.
And voices, mother and daughter.
The dryer door being shut.
Someone whistling.  A child, or an adolescent.
Conversation, downstairs.
Laughter.
Noises…getting louder.
Ah, it’s some sort of game,
The nature of which involves pattern and rhythm.
But the noise…
Subsides.
The conversation goes on.
Mother explaining, relating,
“Hay que ir…porque…no se pue…”
Daughter responding,
“Si, porque el banco cerro…”
Daughter’s son interjecting.
Voices fall silent.
The dryer.
Softness.
Voices.
Listening.
Breathing.
Typing.
Seeing.
Curser flashing.
“Hi Josh,” says daughter’s daughter.
“Hi.”

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A poem a day keeps the rust at bay
On the things I feel but do not say
So here I go once again
Giving voice to what lies within

It’s more than just a clever rhyme
It’s making sense of my place in time
It’s leaving something of me behind
A window into one human’s mind

And though it might seem rather mad
From a distance it’s never all that bad
In fact there may be something true
That unites this poet with you-know-who

In any case, I’ve found my place
And it ain’t a-runnin’ the ol’ rat race
There may be better but there’s surely worse
Than passing time drafting verse

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What if I were so well read
If you cut me it’d be ink I bled
And I could weave, thread by thread
Theories to let me mentally shred
Every last last bit of dread
I was ever sold or fed
And all the shit I’ve thought and said
Turned to fertilizer for my head

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Wife, love of my life,
Tenderness is your name
When love’s your game

Would that you tame
the flame of your pain
And I the shame
that drives me insane

Let them wane, and we’ll wax
Wise with the main idea
C’mon, it’s so clear
We’ve got to hear the call

And see over, under
And through the wall
To what lies beyond
Like a pet turtle
Returned to the pond

The years of tears
Give way to a joy
That falls like rain
And we are united again,
Washed of our sin

I say enough
Let freedom ring!
And you and I sing
Sweet harmony

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The blue Bird book beneath the paper I write on
spawns the dawn of a new day for yours truly.
I’m on my way home and yet to parts unknown.

We have grown.  We have grown apart.
Such great despair that we may share
this mending of heart.

I start and I stop.  Allow this to pop
And drop way down, ’til it comes back around
And the us that is found is like kids
on a merry-go-round.

Let it be, let it be!
If it’s one step at a time the pleasure is mine.
If it’s in a great leap, give me Hanuman feet,
and we’ll all reap in the joy.  Oh boy!

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Robust respect for self and other,
brothers, sisters, father, mother.
Here and there I am aware
of things I can do to clean house -
to organize, contribute, and pay tribute
to my folks and to myself.

So I glean, the spaces in between
are getting lean.  I mean…
Well, I concede, I’ve done some dirty deeds.
It’s a shame how fear breeds fear
and anger with ones so dear.

I am calling on the forces of love and action,
imagination, collaboration…and INSPIRATION.
Give us, one and all, the increase,
the raise, the elevation!

By the way, God save this nation.
If it’s to be my station, then let me state:
My allegiance is to the united sates of consciousness — one nation,
under (and all points) God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

The Americas and every bastion of hope
on this great sphere and beyond.
Here this call:  United we stand,
divided we fall.

Now is the time for the time is Now!

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What I have to live for
is so much more than a mere poem
could possibly capture;
we’re talking rapture.

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If this were a song,
would you sing along?
If you felt it in your heart so strong,
no amount of fear of being wrong
could contain what your soul does long
to express?

Confess, you would, if it had a groove
that made your body want to move
and took you on a mystical ride
to where your spirit did reside,
and you found yourself transcending time,
where all was love…supreme, sublime.

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There’s a move to make,
a step to take,
your life’s at stake
for heaven’s sake.
Out the door
of the house of pain,
jump in the car
and catch a plane.
Hop on a bus
then board a train,
ride a bike
down a windy lane,
hike the trail
with a trusty cane
under blazing sun
and driving rain
’til every deamon
has been slain
and you are born
anew again.

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O distant star
wherever you are
You are farther now
than before

Yet you are always near
You are always here
Until you’re not
Or so I thought
For I have bought
and I have sold

What would you have me do?
Are you in me?
Am I in you?

Yes you are said the no I’m not.
What is the meat and what is the fat?

Does the one come undone
without the other, brother?
Well, said the mother to the sister
The sun is one and he’s a star
and the moon is one
and she’s without par

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