The one who has built treasures here on earth, has decided that they should decay on their own, being left behind like a trail of bait.
The one who has decided to embark on a quest, has found that the lost woods of his mind are journey enough, and that the legendary sword is found in a place where the branches of the trees do not reach.
The master sword, which glitters handle to blade, will not betray the one who wields.
And like a song, it could be said, is the quest of the one who initiates his life.
There is a dying fall, there is a rise, there is a melody.
And like a scream heard in the wilderness, like a tree that falls, so does the sound of love echo in the gloom of struggle.
Let it not end, let it be shown.
It deserves no less, than world reknown.
A word, a tear, a laugh, a cheer,
For none is meaningless.
The guitar is my emotional sedative
It takes away my pain
By giving me a throat-less voice
The pain in my core
Finds expression through my fingers
And forms words on plastic strings
The day when my physical body can play no more
And to a new world my spirit soars
Then let me bask in the Melody of Heaven
Have passed me through the shadows
In this life I glide easy
Thanks to the crutch of chords
In the next life I want them with me also
And this sad song they call my life
May it end well when light shines bright
And the Angel chorus sings
A song transcending my guitar strings
Wealth of appreciation
Upon black boughs
And Crystal Rows
The smiles on people’s faces
Do reasure me
There’s none to take the glitter
When we close our eyes to dream
A moment passes by moment
Like costumers waiting in line
Eager to give their due
And take along new wine
And we see upon the tempest
Each raindrop has a name
And every splash seems to proclaim
We are not the same
And the sound a splash does make
Like a courteus guest
Will not enter pass the ear
Unless invited by the host
(This poem is a response to Ezra Pound’s In a Station of the Metro)
Sing bard of untold beaty in the river banks
Lose yourself in a state of ecstacy and pleasure
Know trully how one can harken into my words
And change his mind
For tis one who trully knows
And tis one who trully perceives
The words of the prophets are like raindrops
That spring forth from the clouds and bring
Upon the way of righteousness
For once forbidden, once disobeyed
And left dismayed
sweet melody to listen to while reading poetry
Estrechos momentos de la meditacion
A un estado elevado de conciencia
Momentos enteros, como eternidad
Que sustienen una dulce paciencia