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Furnace In The Sky

Sunshine galore gleaming in glorious swathes in all manner of ecosystems.
Summer in its element with all its periodic fickleness, fluctuations and abrupt metamorphosis,is  nonetheless  the friend the relation of those who yearn for relief and rejuvenation from the winter's quite frequent  glacial ice and snow onslaught.
The horrid flurries strafed by grit and mud crushed chippings.
The quivers and shivers of fireside imposed reclusiveness a reprieve by comparison.
Even spark guards might seem to those who hallucinate a bulwark.
But then

Conversations with Cassette Tapes

Eyes spiraling into despair
You stare at me from the corner of my room

An empty box of baby powder and an all-in-one
TV/radio/cassette player
Your only companions.
Functions with no use
Much like you.

Your teeth filmy and loose with dust and time
Weave promises of youth and childhood returned
In which your reel trailed off endlessly into
California dreams, and ephemeral Florida days
Immortalized in Polaroids since faded and lost.

Just please reunite me with my lost love, you beg
With ribbon now worn and warped.

Queria viver

Queria viver
In the world
That my Father made
For us to live
In it feeling blessed
Every single day
AIso, we are happy
That our Father
Made the beautiful world
With his holy hands
For us to live in it
And after our Father
Made us
With his holy hands
He had placed us
In his world
We don't live alone
In my Father's world
We have friends
That is also living in
My Father's world
AIso, he made the four season's
For us to live in it
Now we are living
In the Winter
This is the season we just
Hate the most

Songs of Hope

She sang from the depths of her soul, Songs of hope and redemption. A river flows gently through her chamber, Searching for the gate to Zion. She has journeyed many times out of the night, Yet it still lingers behind her. A rhythm of turbulence fills her soul. The day opens its doors, And she walks into its complexities. The stars beckoned her song to reach the crescent moon, And the elements carried her melodies into secret chambers. Sometimes, in her slumber, she sees a distant glow, Surrounding a place but gradually dims and dies.

The Backyard Boxer

What I remember
is lying on the wet grass,
the grass tickling my ears,
and a boy with a razor sharp crew cut
and an ugly smile
leveling his fists on my face
until my Grandma came out
and yanked him off me.

I staggered up, the battered
boxer, ears ringing, my Grandma
dabbing my face with a dish towel,
while the neighborhood kids called the fight
a technical draw.

Souls are delicate, and words are cruel

Souls are delicate, like threads of mist, They bend with sorrow, they break with a twist. Words strike like stones, careless and cold, Cracking the quiet where secrets unfold. A whisper can wound, a silence can burn, Once spoken, the harsh ones never return. They echo inside like a haunted refrain, Leaving behind invisible pain. So handle with care the hearts that you see, Their strength is silent, their wounds unseen. For souls are spun from glass-like grace, And words can shatter what no hands trace.

You get what you give

You get what you give
If you give respect respect to others
You will get respect
If you mistreat you friends
You are going to lose them
And you will end up alone
And isolated
From the outside world
If you make a promise to
Your friends you should keep it
If you break the promise
You will be letting your
Friends down

A Forbidden Love

My longing for love was lethal
it was shamelessly primeval,
sinful and forbidden
hard to keep it hidden,
and sure to cause an upheaval.

I plucked a rose from neighbor's yard
embraced it, savored it and marred,
intense was my yearning
frightfully concerning,
to avoid this craving was hard.

I did lure someone else’s soulmate
tried to make her my own lovemate,
to covet what was thine
and craved to make her mine,
It's an ethical lapse of fate.

God, forgive me my transgression
I have to make a confession,
Powerless to resist

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