Cielo azul, Cielo rojo

Imagínate que el primer Mestizo Mexicano reflejara su condición.

Siendo el puente de dos mundos, mas no estar en ninguno de los dos.

El agua azul debajo del puente, y el cielo rojo del atardecer por arriva.

Cuales serían sus palabras, pensadas o habladas, acerca de su visión.

“Si bien los de españa son de sangre azul, yo soy de sangre roja.”

Y mirando al cielo, que primero se vió azul, el atardecer lo hiso rojo. Los ojos del hombre cuyo padre los tenía ojos azules, él los tiene negros, como el cielo se convertira cuando el sol visita al viejo continente.

Y el viento sin color, que sopla lentamente, si pudiera hablar diciera, ha nacido una nueva gente.

Los cosmos, personificandolos, dirían, que su clase está presente.

 

La pacífica vía del río

Por naturaleza y sin esfuerzo

Corre por encima de las piedras y pecez

Igual que mi atracción acia la verdad

Que se esconde en el discurso eterno.

De tal modo que una piedra se cae

Desde la punta de una montaña,

De tal modo que el viento

Carga las alas de una paloma volando,

Es así que mi inclinación es a la belleza escondida,

Detras de la música serena y eterna.

El eco de la nota primordial,

Cantada con sonorosa fuerza,

Y triste alegría,

Se encuentra multiplicado en este mundo,

Por toda palabra honesta, por toda pieza de arte

hermoza.

Si esta hipnotizante tempestad de bellesa

Corre y unde el camino justo de nuestro ambiente,

El mundo dichoso no podría expresar adequada

Gratitud: Pero el río corre, y no se detendrá, por tal

Razón, la gratitud empezará su nueva etapa de alegría

Y verdad.

The amalgamation of elements (2010)

The amalgamation of elements
Does create an aesthetic symetry
In what we call creation
In what we call our world

Down to the miniscule subject of focus
Up to the broadest cosmic generality we can scope
There lies a world for the wide awake
For those with sober minds to behold

We watch the world, while wide awake
Our senses bring us a picture
Of what we will never understand
Of what we will never be

an illusion of hope (2007)

we are all on a boat, heading down the spiral

I am told to live my life right, the boat keeps drifing by, and we’re all it,

I am told to do, I am not to expect, I am told…

the boat keeps moving, they say it will keep us from the worst of the world,

without need, yet unsatisfied, we drift quietly, our iminent destination so close, and yet so far,

“I just wanna” I stop and think, maybe this feeling is not a want, it feels like a yearning, but it’s a feeling deep withing my stomach, and I don’t know what to do.

I look around, everyone in the boat looks at the horizon, no one makes eye contact, eveyone with an indifferent look…

mother says we’re not the fortunate ones,

another sunset sends its rays out

dark orange is our world, no sound save the sound of screeching wood

the feeling in me turns in to hope, a hope that somewhere ahead there is what I’ve searched for, to not want, to feel justified, where it’s all right, where it’s all okay

as soon as it came it faded, and back to my natural state, I fall in full knowledge of our iminent doom, our world limited by the borders of the boat, and all the while clearing my head and telling myself keep moving forward

who would have thought it would be so hard, to do without a reason, to move without purpose, to strive without a goal

tied in a whrill of comfusion, we travel on, our destinies so interwined, that they tie us in such a way that none will ever be reached

Rhyme

Keep the lessons but let the pain go

There’s no reason to cling to what happened before

Pick up the ball and give it another throw

For by living life smarter is how we grow

————————–————————–—————-

Enter through the narrow gate

Don’t let your gaze turn left or right

For by focus and discretion

Will your soul find…

The Guides of Old: A legacy negates the past

 

The stars of modern poems a legacy have left,

A new decree that they strongly suggests,

Would be to end the rules of verse

To enter into a Universe

 

 

Wherein our mimicking art may express,

The dread of life and their lack of interest,

Without the prison bars of regulations,

Or archaic traditions.

 

 

What right-wing capitalists would those sages be,

They’d feel contempt in listening to me,

For it is my view that rules are guides of old,

Which to the innocent have wisdom told.

 

Unknown Man

Who has catered to the thunder that lights the night sky?
Who has watered the oceans with the tears of the clouds?
What are the pillars that hold apart the world and the stars?
Unknown to the world, unknown to my eye, is that which the sages pronounce, through the word “divine”.