BAJA WIRELESS BOYCOTT

I paid you
For my antenna
Give it back
You are in Mexico
Don’t steal from
The people
That support you
Don’t come here
To take advantage
Of the poor
Be honest
Be fair

ANGELA JOY

A counterfeit
First name
Wingless so it can’t fly
With its
Blasphemous surname
Even Frankenstein
Has more soul

Angels speak Spanish
This aberration does not
It has witchcraft for gender

Even a cucaracha has
Its God given charisma
You are graceless

Angels don’t smoke dope
And you do

I speak to you
Piece of excrement
Get the fuck out
Of the land of the sun

Stop hurting the innocent
Sons and daughters
The people of
The eagle that devours
The snake

You are the serpent
And we are the children
Of the Eagle

We are in our homeland
You are and invader
And I will make you
Swallow dirt
With your lies
And I will sent you back
To your madhouse

Viva la raza!
A traitor has been found!

A CROSS

Across countries
And state—lines
With the border patrol
More serviceable
Than ever

They did not
Stopped nor
Searched us
Just chanted
Their canonical questions

Therefore I can go
Across the lines
Of your body
And the delineation
Of your intentions

And I can
Watch you
Open like
A flower

Across our
Uncertain future
And you can not
Detained me
Because I travel
With an engine
Of love
Running with
The hope of victory

Across your breastplate
There is no deflection
And it feels
Like God
Is touching
Your objectives

Across the interstates
Of profit
With visions
Of poverty

Across
The mountains
Of lies
And the smoke
From my cigarette
Tells me
I still want you
Like cancer

Across
The minds of millions
Who have claimed back
This American land
This our home

INTERNATIONAL
BORDERS IN A
FAST FOOD JOINT

As she drank
The milkshake
I remembered
Mark’s girlfriend
A Japanese student
Who liked
Her chocolate milkshakes
With French fries
She also liked me

When Mark went
Back home
To Switzerland
He told me his girlfriend
Wanted to see me again
But this never happened
I never liked college dorms anyway

My memory stopped
When it was my turn
To drink the cocoa ice-cream
Then I remembered how
Nicotine works wonderful
With sugar

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF BORDER

I slipped
On an ambush
Of cheap labor
Landed on
The stairs of manipulation
A concussion of retail
Constricted my soul
My dreams rest on
A loveless surface
My sinuses
Are invaded
With the pressure
Of hurricanes

A CHANGE OF BOUNDARIES
THE BORDER TRAVELS
WITH THE CLOUDS

Movement of wings
Against the blue
Eastern sky
A new flight
Motions of desire

My tongue is
Ready to pronounce
Wonderful words
My lips are set
To kiss
New miracles

Brand new fires
In my heart
Burn like
Newborn babies
Children of light
Of sunlight
Of a new beginning

My soul
Has become
A well of combustion
Hypnotized by the
Addiction of survival

ACROSS THE BORDER

Uncertainty
Flows out
From your kisses
Love is
A matter of endurance
I can see
The conclusion
Around the corner
Of this strange bed

SPEAKERS ON THE CEILING

“Customer by the name
Of Barbara
Your party is waiting
On register 2”

The words came

From above
Electronically
Not spiritually

I looked at
The front of the store
And did not see a party
At any of the
Cash registers

But I did remembered
My friend Barbara
Her revelry
Her playful wishes
On an
Indian summer
Around 9 PM
And it was
Not dark yet

I went back to work
Cleaning the shelves
Then I saw an avocado
And I looked like
The world

AWARENESS

I believe
With all my heart
That your love
Is sweeter
Than the honey
In your
Melodic hands
Sometimes Nirvana
Can be achieved
With a leap of faith

GHOST

Love affairs
Always have borders
Limitations of circumstance
Landmarks of selfishness
I can see

A barricade
In your heart
Larger than
The Berlin Wall
I will make it fall
It will become dust
A pulverized idol

Borders are
Like cheap hotel rooms
When those divisions vanish
A home will appear
Love will not be cheap anymore
Humanity will become sacred
Once again

The incisions
On the land
The stabbing of
The sand
The corrosion
In the waters
The dichotomy
In the hearts
Of children
Will heal better
Than the memory
Of a scar

The border has
A broken neck
Multiple fractures
On its spinal chord
The border is dead
All we see
Is a ghost
A malicious apparition

FLIGHT

The osprey
Prepare to levitate
They don’t need
To wait in line
To be sniffed
By drug addicted dogs
To be x—rayed
Stripped searched
They don’t depend
On gasoline
Their wings
Are better than
Border crossing cards

BORDER PILGRIMS

A place
Of death
Becoming
A river of existence
A draft of
Human beings
Looking for the
Promise land

METAMORPHOSIS

The border line
Is a giant
Caterpillar
It moves
With the faces
Of the world
I am waiting
For it
To become
A butterfly

MEMORY

An old poem
Longing to be held
The only
Thing that
Comes to my mind

PRAYER

May the
Border crossing
Be one of peace
Of friendship
Of acceptance
One of life
Of hope
One of change
Where all people
Become one

HEALTHCARE WITHOUT BORDERS

Ron,
If you care
About your workers
Give them
&
Their families
Free Medical Insurance
Turn your
Heart of limestone
Into one of flesh

A DREAM WITHOUT BORDERS

I dreamt
I was laughing
And the mariachi band
Was laughing
And my friends
Were laughing

DIFFICULT BORDERS

The toughest
Borders to cross
Are the ones
Of greed
Ron
Listen to your ancestor
Crying out
Let my people go!

AQUATIC BORDERS

We are
Like salmon
Swimming against
The current
Trying to save
Our offspring

MY BRIDE

I like
Making love
To you
In Spanish
Foreign exchange
Of passion
I like crossing
That border
The one
Between your legs

I MISS YOU

All of you
Your teeth
Illuminate the finest memories
&
I like the camouflage of your eyes
Ever changing spirits
Wells of mysteries
&
When we make love
I wonder if it is
The last time
So I hold you tight
Your breasts
Against my chest
My soul kissing your soul
My heart touching
Your heart

DEAR YOU

It has come
To my attention
That the sun is dying
Because of
Caustic emotions
Therefore mystical steps
Must be taken
To neutralize the problem
Amen

AFFECTION

Listen up
Love is magic
And it’s also flesh
It’s friendship
And offspring
Sacrifice & justice
My pistol
Spits words
Of hope
Of resurrection
Of truth
Of sex
Of angels
And their
Lethal swords

1 CRAMP WITH NO MUSIC

I strived for goodness
Risking love
Life & money
As I struggled
Industriously in bed

I wanted
To be 20
Once more
And right when
My girl said
“I love you”
A dolorous grin
Was born
In my flesh

Like a clown
On stage
Scaring children
At the concert

RAIN

I was inside of you
And the rain
Made music
With the rooftops
It was better
Than electronica
Natural melodies
Like the touch
Of your lips
On my body
Subtle drumming
Of dreams
That evening
Nothing else mattered

JUSTINA

Next time
You want
To modify
My future
Do it
Before the
Tequila shots
Because a dream
Is like
1000 glances

BORDER INSPECTION

“It’s your lucky day”
He said
“Why?”
I asked

“The computer randomly
Selected you for inspection”

He said it with such grace
A nice old timer
A good gentle—man
About my father’s age
Nearing retirement
He had dark skin
Like I do
He smiled
Like I sometimes do

“Open the trunk”
He asked
I got out of my car

He did not
Got uptight
Nor placed his hand
On his pistol
Like others do

I inserted the key
I pressed right
I heard that
Familiar click
He just smiled
And kept smiling

Maybe he was thinking
About his retirement
Maybe he was thinking
With his heart
And not with his mind
So happy and relaxed
This was no Prozac

This was wisdom amongst the smog
A pearl in the middle
Of contaminated clusters
Of metal, oil, and plastic

“Maybe the computer likes to pick on
good—looking fellows like you”
He said with his enduring
Fraternal smile

For the first time
After 35 years
Of crossing the borders
Of my two countries
I happily drove
To secondary inspection

A piece from "Flashback" my forthcoming collection of poems.


NEW MOON

¿Why do you lean on me
Rubbing your breasts
On my right shoulder?

Planets of life
Mystical dunes

¿What do you want to do?
¿Will it be tonight
Or another day?

When there’s not
A full moon

And we can hide
Under a sky
Of darkness

FACES

Her face
Splattered with disenchantment
Another beautiful face
That I have
Never seen before
I can’t tell anymore
Which faces are more splendorous
Sad faces or happy faces
Sometimes the satisfied
Faces of the world
Are the most ugly
I found sad faces
Full of wonder
Those who get
Everything they want
Have stained faces
Those who lack
The frugal ones
Have faces that shine
With suffering

CAPITAL LETTERS
HAVE PUNCH
LIKE A KO
THEY’RE SHARPER
THAN A STILETTO
BIG LETTERS
HAVE BIG MEANING
AND IT MAKES FOR
FOR BIG TEARS

AMOR

Love can’t
Be contained by borders
It is sometimes sweet
Like diabetics
You can’t contain love
Inside the walls
Of commercial exploitation
Of strategic defamation
Hypnotic indoctrination
In the death of a nation
In secret relocations
Sinister intimidation
Attempts of assassination
Threats of incarceration
Destruction of evidence
With avarice and incineration
Ambushes of desperation
Wishes of annihilation
Souls of exportation
And the poison of importation
And all the ions
That appear on my path
Like lost dogs
Looking for leftovers
Licking my dusty shoes
As I watch
Unfamiliar faces

BURNING BRIGHT

I was working
On her poems
Typing away
On my portable Olivetti
Her first book
Sensual poems
Love poems
Poems of desire
Poems of hope
Of pain
And redemption
Of death
And something
Called life
Loving her
Amongst all
That poetry
Seemed like
The natural
Next step
There is something
In the poetic
That works
Like an aphrodisiac
There is always
An element
Of seduction
That lives
Between the lines
Of most poems
It’s like the sun
That shines on my face
As I write
Sitting in this car
A raft at the center
Of this sea of traffic
And the weatherman
Called for rain
But the sun
Is burning bright

SOMETHING LIKE THAT

So poetry
It’s just like that
A paradox of
Existential ingredients
The art of life
The formula of breathing
And when everything
Is consumed by the
Inability of our flight
When I stand
Naked before you
With a ravaged soul
And devastated emotions
Know that my heart
Is intact
Pulsating your memory
Pronouncing
With each beat
Your name

A POEM FOR RON COHN
MY EMPLOYER

“I will be fair with you”
Ron paused and then continued
“you, be fair with me”

I was helping one
of Mr. Cohn patrons
an award winning novelist
who likes to shop at
Henry’s Marketplace Chula Vista

I replied
“I’m helping a customer”
Ron barked
“you’ve been talking for awhile”
then he amplified his demeanor
“it’s time to go back to work”

I wonder if Martin will ever
come back to Ron’s store
I wonder what he will write
on his next
newspaper column

I looked at the pasta bags
they looked like
lost stars
in a galaxy of greed

IN THE DARK

I like making
Love to you
When you have
Fallen asleep
When the lights
Are out
Except for the lampada
Next to the icon
We don’t need
Electricity radiating
In the light bulbs
Your perfect body is
Illumination to my life
A light house
For my hurricanes

WRITE UP

Talked to Juan about his
Attendance problems on 2/27/06
Juan must realize he needs to
Be to work on time, any further problem
With attendance could result
In suspension and or termination

“Sign the paper” the manager said
“I will, but first I need to write about it”
I answered and then
I wrote on his piece of paper:

Any alleged attendance problem is a
Direct result of the stress, pain, discomfort and
Depression caused by my injury which I suffered
While doing my work duties for my employer
At Henry’s Marketplace Chula Vista

Then I signed
My very Mexican
Spanish sounding name

Juan José Martínez

BEAUTIFUL SLEEP

Your face
So close to me
In perfect symmetry
I watch you sleep
Forgive me
I know poets
Have an obligation
To love
But we also
Are bound
To move justice
So as you rest
Away in a happier place
I will write something
About fairness & freedom
And when you wake up
My dear miracle
I will be there

poetry

a poem
is an act of love
of desperation
of hope
and betrayal
poetry places the truth
in the mind of the planet
in the hearts
of those who listen
in the souls
of those who read it
poetry is
an intermission
of understanding
a knowledge of fire
a birth of reality
a way of light
poetry is survival

my dear estranger

okay, last call
like the barkeeps like to say
one last test run before i let this baby
know what i made of
let’s try to use the punctuations marks
of the life i never knew
i know how to love
in different languages
in glances and smiles
i can write without ink
and without words
that’s right darling
i can make little children
with no touch whatsoever
So you decide
if you want to meet me
in the corner of
your curious mind
i only have sweet warnings for you
because pain is something enchanting
if you are one of those creatures
please stay away
because the road of addiction
always ends in heartbreak
and i know you heart
is not made of glass
it is more like pottery
or should i say poetry?
whatever the case may be
this is not a playground
the art of death
is not frivolous
so then my dear estranger
think it over
real hard and deep
because tomorrow might become
like a laughing monster
by your luxurious bedside
maybe you should go home
and be with your family
broken as it is
but non the less
something very special to you
i will give you a kiss
with my eyes
before i grow weary
from any kind of defense

THE SOUND OF THE CANDLE LIGHT

The beauty
Of the dim light
Shines in the memories
In the essence of our souls
Like floating petals
In the water of our youth
Playing for hours
In the fountains of love
The melting candles
Still alive
In our hearts


ONCE AGAIN

I played my guitar
The bathtub
Embraced your precious body
The flames on the candles
Danced in the dark
And I sang your song

Queen of my heart
I love you so much
Your are like the
Open sky
Where angels fly
Your smile is
Brighter than the sun
Better than any star
Your beauty has no equal
You’re better than a miracle

Then you wrote me
The most beautiful poem ever
I knew then
I should take a bath

NO CUT
NO KNIFE
NO SCISSORS

I decided to go
Like the
Owners of this continent
Or like the biblical prophets
Like Sampson
Like Geronimo
Like a Starets
Like Sitting Bull
Like the guys
With the guitars
Under the spot lights
Like Jesus Christ
And His cousin
John the Baptist
And the HR rep
Said he would give me
A job
But the problem was
This was not
A model agency
So I walked away
On the beach
And wrote songs
And poems
Wrote the
Story of
My own life

MY POETS

All my girlfriends
Wrote love poems
Letters of desired
They spoke with their hearts
And sometimes
With the motions
Of their bodies
The one I didn’t marry
Got published
Along side me
We were both on
The same page
As if were
The same bed
She wrote a sexy verse
So sensuous and valiant
It moved me so much
That I wanted to be
With her
“So close so tight”
Just like the title
Of her poem
The one I did marry
Wrote thirsty poems
She was a demon in bed
If I saw her with pen
In her hand
I was not sure
If she wanted to write
Or to stab me
As soon as I turn around
She joined the Army
And became a sniper
And I got away
For thousands of miles
I searched for my sweet Michelle
To be tight and close
To her
I never found her
But I found others
Who wrote the most
Ethereal words
Their souls swollen
With unconditional love
I would watch them
As they slept next to me
Their beating hearts
Speaking their own language
It was always
A message of hope
Of enchanted dreams
Of a beautiful future
A blazing sun
Of desire
I think of all of you tonight
I pray for your beautiful
Bodies and spirits
I send my love
To you all
From right here
Where I am
A city in ruins
From my chair of destruction
All I have is poetry
That never ending fire
That keeps me alive
Your memory
Is my lifeline

COOKING

You brought me
A dish as I wrote
Placed it next to
My notebook
Then you left to
Feed the children
I ate and read
What I had written
So far and
The taste was exquisite
I though about
The savor of your love
The flavor
Of the night before

AFTERWARD

You moved
Like a different person
So delicate
With that cigarette
In you hand
The way you opened
The door
The way the curves
Of your legs
Came to be
Maybe it
It was the full moon
Stirring uncharted regions
Of your heart

FREEWAY

I have lost control
Of something
Ugly like the tires
Of a thousand automobiles
That stroke
The concrete
That protrusion of death
Those lanes of anxiety
Pollution of the mind
That sarcastic smile

MOONLIGHT

The moon
Had the most
Intense halo
It was time
To write poetry
In bed with her
Once again

LET’S PLAY TOGETHER

She said she likes
My hair
And my glasses
I told her she looked
Like a rock star
Chic red hair
Dreamy eyes
Red lipstick on
She said
I have my guitar
In my car
And I want you
To play with me
What time you’re off?
6:30 I said
I am off at 7:00
She said

MY FRIEND THE POET

He told me poets take
Their lovers
To hotel rooms
And read poetry
Through the night
In a soft gentle voice
Whispering to them
Laying in bed
With the moonlight
Entering through their window
Listening to
The sound
Of the ocean
That music
So I followed his advice
But instead of
Reading I wrote to her:

HOW CAN I SAY IT?

How can I tell you
That you matter more
Than the stars
And the sky
That the winds
Of a hurricane
Can not
Erase your splendor
The 4 elements
Have no meaning
Without you
How can I tell you
That without you
I’ll be lost
On the oceans
Of uncertainty
I’ll be a satellite adrift
How can I say
That the full moon
Melts into folly
If you don’t touch me
I’ll become
A stray bullet
In the sadness of the night
What words can I use
To make you
Fall in love with me again
What bitter feelings
Will I have to drink
From a cup of seclusion
I will softly
Touch the doors
Of your heart
Quietly kiss them
So they open
Like a flower
That blooms
In winter.

Then she wrote to me:

SPEECHLESS

My heart sings
For the melody
Of your kiss
The warmth
Of your eyes
Is what I need
My hand is the comb
For you hair
Your neck
Seduces my thoughts
I am unable
To speak.

TASK

Who would think
That I would
End up
Writing love poems
After all
These years
This moment
When I feel
Most alone
Who would have believed
That I would
Try to conquer
A city in ashes
And try to rebuild it
To take it back from
Something invisible
Such as that
Ironic ghost
That fancies itself
As an angel of light
That has deluded
The most precious
Of intentions
And the most
Important of miracles

BATHTUB

When I play
The guitar
You speak
To me
With the truth
I lit 3 candles
As you took
A bath
I caressed
The strings
As if I was
Touching you
Every word
I sang
Was a kiss
Trying to
Penetrate your heart
From your lips
Came words
Of affection

ONCE AGAIN

We drove
In my old convertible
My right hand
Shifted from
Her knee
To the steering wheel
Back and forward
On the windshield
I saw how
She gave me back
My smile
When she made
Love to me

MAYDAY

I want to write
About you
I want to say
Something pleasing
With tenderness
Right now
My heart
Travels at
The speed of light
And I don’t know
How to fly

DRINK

I offered them
A glass of wine
And she was
The only one
That accepted
She agreed
To drink with me
More red
More blood
In our hearts
She drank fast
The sunrise
Arrived like
An aspirin

GREETING

You said hi
Your smile
Revealed bright pillars
Of youthfulness
Your red hair
A fire
In the forest

FATIGUED

We sat
At the park
Watching the
Children play
We were hangover
And looked
Like a strange couple

BEHIND THE COUNTER

She looked
At me
And undid
Her pony tail
Blond hair everywhere
Her blue eyes
Glowed like
Unruly Sapphires

GESTURE

As she walked
Pass me
She lifted her shirt
To show me
Her pierced
Bellybutton

CONTRAST

Poetry ensues
Like flesh & blood
And there’s
Electronic kisses
Such distress
And sorrow

A KISS

As she kissed me
I felt her tongue stud
Navigating through
My taste buds
Like a
Drifting sailboat
At the mercy
Of the oceans
Of passion

I got
3 poems
published in
Watching the Wheels: a Blackbird

For those who read Spanish check out what el
Charko Man is saying about your humble servant.

JUANITA

She does
Of my laundry
An art form
And knows
How to brew
Perfect coffee
She treats my offspring
Like royalty
And as I step
Out the door
She always
Says to me
God help you
And it sounds
Better in Spanish

CHILDREN

They eat
A breakfast
Of innocence
An evasion
Of calamity
The world
Is dying
Around them
Under the sun rays
They speak
To each other
They utter things
Like children do

EXCERPT POEM 7

As we sat

Next to the table
I saw

In your eyes
The story

Of our lives
It read:
Death with

A new beginning
And our future
Coated with tenderness

A HAPPY NEW YEAR

We entered
The New Year
Watching a movie
My two kids
Laying next to me
I pointed out
The folly
Of cinema
They laughed
At the screen
I smiled with them
They fell asleep
Long before I did
It was the best ever

METAMORPHOSIS

Spanish green eyes
An ocean
Of life
Fertile vegetation
The desert
Is fading away

MUSIC

The constant
Water drops
Hit the surface
I listen to

The steady drumbeat
In the dark

START

When I died
I saw
What I loved most
Disintegrate
Like pulverized idols
Before the Creator
I thought
It was the end
Of everything
It’s just
The beginning

FATAL

Death speaks to me
In a falsetto tone
I am buried
Under the ashes
Of my destruction
In this darkness
I see a growing light
A flame of love
Of resurrection

POEM 6

The warm wind
Whispers
The most
Beautiful mysteries
The moving leaves
Become your hair

PULSE

I write
With my heart
Now more than ever
Every time my
Heart beats
I think
Of you

¿A HISPANIC JIMMY HOFFA?

Fernando is
An ambitious kid
And he wants
To start a
UNION
At work
He’s a Meat Clerk
@
Henrys Market Place
Chula Vista
He said he cut himself
He showed me
His sliced finger
He also told me
About the time
He fell and landed
On his knees
But he managed
To save the tray of shrimp
He never reported
The injury
Now he tells me
It hurts
Write something
He said
About people hanging
As if were
From a cliff
Holding on
For dear life

LATE NOVEMBER

Commercial hymns
Fanning the
Consumer frenzy
Hypnotic marketplace
Subliminal ambushes
Of trade

FLIGHT SCHOOL

I wanted to
Be more like
The hawks
Or falcons
Or whatever flies
In a cool
And gracious way
But I am
More like
A hummingbird
Inhaling the marrow
Out of circumstance

RON COHN
MY
EMPLOYER

The store owner
Said to me
“Peace brother”
He said
“This is retail”
But I know
Peace is not
For sale
Where there is pain
There’s no peacefulness
Peace is a fruit
Of friendship
And I know
Friends don’t exploit friends
Friends don’t let friends
Become the working poor
Friends don’t insult friends
Peace!
What a precious word
I can only hope
I can only wish
Ron speaks from
The bottom of his heart
I think a pay raise
For ALL his workers
Could be the beginning
Of the path of peace

TRAVELS

In the desert’s night
We saw the fire
Capricious spheres
Levitating and smoking

The sky became
A spectacle

A distraction
To the prayer
Of my heart

We passed truckers
Who stopped to watch
We carried on
Our way.

RECOGNIZANCE

I got on
An airplane
Up in the clouds
I did not see
Any angels
I found them
On land
Healing the hearts
Of those who grieve
I saw them in the eyes
Of those who
Hold steadfast
To hope

THE QUESTION

How are you doing?
She asked
It hurts
I answered
The marketing symbols
Were all around us
Like mosquitoes
On standing water
But I do have faith
For a better tomorrow
A painless morning
Where healing
And justice
Are one
I believe
With all my heart
That goodness
Will prevail
And the
Angels of illness
Will flee in terror
You see,
We are about

To reach
A beautiful place

GROCERY

Under the sun
Many consumers
Most of them
Tried to purchase health
I helped them
The best I could
With their search
All those shattered souls
My heart brakes
The most
For the ones
With cancer
Then I remembered
My knee has
Become a dichotomy

INSPECTOR PERKINS

Crossing the
US—Mexico border
Is a paradox
I read a sign that says

Pledge to Travelers
We pledge to cordially greet and welcome you to the United States.
We pledge to treat you with courtesy, dignity, and respect…

When the green light
Turned on
And I drove pass
The x-ray machines
The inspector shouted:

“Go ahead,
but when the world comes to an end
we are not going to help your people”

I love
My country

MY MANAGER

You need
To pick up
The pace
He said
It hurts
I replied
That’s why
I go slowly
When working
On the shelves
Pushing the RX
And thinking
Of something beautiful
Modified duty
Inside each can
Organic rights
In each of
Those lovely bottles

ACCIDENT

A distracted shopper
Dropped a can
On the store floor
Green liquid spilled
Around our feet
At first it smelled good
But then it stank
Like vomit
I sat there on my chair
Under modified duty
And I thought of negligence

ANGEL

In the night sky
It sparkles
Blinking smiles
Of friendship
I see his light
Over my house
Like a satellite

OCTOBER 24th 2005
AND A VISIT BY
AN ELDERLY GANGSTER

A suspicious
Looking fellow
Came into
My workplace
And said he was
Looking for people
Causing trouble
The ones on
The black list
He added
Then he pointed
At me and said
“Look, he’s afraid
Of being taken for a ride”
To which I replied
“Look, I am shaking
In fear”
As I moved
My arms and
My legs.

MAGNETIC RESONANCE IMAGING

Yesterday I had
An MRI
As I laid there
Listening to
The metal banging
I thought about
The sunset outside
Descending on the Pacific
I fell I sleep
And I dreamt of
A better world

SUNDAY

The alarm clock
Robbed the rooster
Of its obligation
With electronic mantras
Piercing the day of the Lord
Aggravating my fatigue

And my pain
Deprivation of peace
Through employment
Without spiritual benefits

THE CHAIR

It has wheels
Not wings
The doctor said
Sitting work mostly
The days roll by
On black
Plastic rings
My knee is an
Open mango

DROWNED SMILES
IN AN OCEAN
OF APATHY



…I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. Jesus Christ.




WORKERS COMPENSATION

When I slipped & fell
On animal blood
I was down there
On the floor
It felt like
I was in Hades
All I could see
Was someone’s
Bloody boots
And I felt impure
Like the wayward
Prophets of ancient times
Infected with blood
Sacrificed to idols of lucre
Deities that live in
Those dreadful buildings
Known as banks
I had no time to think
About cleansing rituals
Guillermo’s hand
Lifted me up
From the filth
A working man
Helping his fallen brother
Speaking to me
In the language of compassion
¿Estás bien?
¿Estás bien?
¿Estás bien?

USTEDES QUE CASI NO ESTÁN MUERTOS

Todos ustedes
Angelitos hermosos
Inocentemente indóciles
Beban el valor que añejaron
En sus corazones
En las barricas de sus recuerdos
Reminiscencias de ternura
En gravitaciones fetales

Porque es la única medicina
La única recuperación
De nuestros días
Disfrazados en noches
De las flechas de esquizofrenia
Que están clavadas
En los anhelos del éxito
Y en los sinsabores de un engaño
A control remoto
A todo color

Ustedes que aún no están
Entumecidos con espejismos farmacéuticos
Y las presencias de hombres tenebrosos
Que se esconden en rascacielos

Porque la doctrina del miedo
Es nuestro pan diario
Y la demencia es el fruto
De la cobardía
Más allá de la serenidad
Está la paz
Y un silencio estremecedor
Que sacude las lesiones de la mente
Y recoge los pedazos regados
De sentimientos destruidos

Ustedes que casi no están muertos
Que casi están vivos
Ustedes que están aquí
Conmigo.

FOLLOW UP

The doctor looks
Like a supermodel
One of the thinnest
Persons I have
Ever seen
Blond hair
And blue eyes
With a degree
To heal people
She told me
About the time
She had a MRI
And how it was
Not too bad
Nothing to be
Claustrophobic about
I asked her
If she felt like
She was inside
A casket
She said no
And asked me
To lay down
And examined
My knees
Then she wrote
Another RX
For pain medicine
And handed me
The piece of paper
Nice to meet you
She said
Likewise
I replied
Then I left.

PSALM 23

The Lord is my protection
I should not want money
He makes me to lie down
In green & pesticide—free pastures
He leads me beside
Still & unpolluted waters
He heals my soul
From the defamation of
My greedy adversaries
He walks with me in the paths
Of freedom & love
For His name sake

When I walk through the valley
Of the shadow of death
Under the snares of rich merchants
And the crosshairs of
Their hired guns
I should fear no evil
For You are greater
Than their evil motions
And You are with me
Your fairness and your friendship
Comfort me

You prepare a table of victory
Before me
In the presence of my enemies
You anoint my head with poetry
My cup runs over with feeling
Surely goodness and mercy
Shall follow me
All the days of my life
And I will dwell
In the house
Of the Lord forever.

LIKE HER

Sometimes when
I make love
I think about
A baby
Coming out of
My wife
And I wonder if
This time
She will be
A daughter
Will she look
Like me
Or will she have
Blond hair
Like her

MACADAMIAS

Those trendy particles
Look like
Dog food
Inside the
Plastic containers
The people from
The academia
Eat macadamias

DECADENCE

Steady pain
Modern daily bread
Distraction of kindness
Merchandized beauty
A synthetic honesty
Invitation for
The cataclysms
Of the
Rich & poor
A paradox at
The cash registers
Invisible blows of silence
And victory becomes
A trademark

INJURED

I can see the best
Encounters of
Our time
Injured by
The madness
Of marketing
A disaster for
The human soul
The levy of sanity
Has broken
And reason has
Been flooded
Impure waters
Of greed

HENRY’S MARKETPLACE
CHULA VISTA
CALIFORNIA
&
EATING
POPPY SEED
BREAD

The store owner
Hands me
A fair portion
With his right hand
He cut it himself
With an awkward knife
From the bakery department
And called me by name
“Juan” —he said—
“Do you want some good bread?”
Thank you Ron
—I said—
I touched his hand
As I grabbed the morsel
And ate it
I looked at him
In the eye
As he said
“It’s kind of chewy”
I wondered if
He feeds
Bread covered with “poppy seeds”
To all his injured workers
Just before their drug test
Hoping for a positive result
I remembered when I worked
As a translator
At times I translated
Medical material
It was then I learned about
People flunking
Their drug screening
Because of
Baked goods
With poppy seeds
Today I learned
These are ingredients
I can use for poetry

CHINA

Writing a poem
While waiting
In line
In a bank
Musak coming out
From the walls
And the roof
My pain dances
On paper stain
With blue lines
Made in China
Human tenderness
Struggle of survival
I write these words
For those dear
Children of God.

ICON

Warmth of
Apocalyptic winters
And cool wind
To the urban
Lakes of fire
When I see you
My heart heals
When I kiss you
I get medicine
That is better than
The pharmaceutical witchcraft
That poisons

The global village
When I taste you
I find immortality
Is childlike.

GOOD

My friend
Is a hero
I can see the reflection
Of his pain
In his eyes
Those sad
And friendly
Blue eyes
That have seen
The end of foes
And of a part
Of himself
He never speaks
About war
But I can read the story
In his
300 meter glance
Melancholic measurement
Of death
And of life
His life
And I think
How he survived
The existential shrapnel
And now he invites me
To his house
And offers me
Food and drink
He has the greatest
Of wounded hearts
He never speaks
Of the battle field
And the ocean
Is a mirror

EARLY HOUR

Employment is like
An uncharted map
Or like
The common cold
So ordinary
A misfortune
Far too regular
When I entered the cooler
I saw meat & fish
All around me
Waiting there
Ready to make
People sick
I walked and slipped
There was blood on the floor
I looked up to
The surveillance cameras
I thought that if I died
They would sell my flesh
To affluent retirees
Who spent their
Summer of love
In Woodstock