I set out to sea to see what I could see
I came upon a rock that was being mocked
I saw these scenes before my eyes I cried

I was a wayfaring stranger in a land within; danger stranger
A land not meant to be, a land I wished I have had never seen
The sights of terror, the sights of dread, and the home of the living dead

There are those who sit
at the edge of the dance,
watching the whirl
of the living

Hub and spoke
Spoken wheel

The dance lingers
in their hearts
Years beyond
the fiddlers last draw.

She could hardly see
her palms
in outspreading mountain fog,

while she was breaking her echos
through rocky hills
of a laugh
with a louder one.

He remembers of her,

she was running all over the sea surface
like a little witch
laughing and calling him:
''Look at me!''
and he was glad to see her happy

beneath the half moon light.

A Virgin Island vacation that never ceases
in the memory of a poor country girl
a life of luxury sailing the seven seas

In grand dining rooms she feasted
adorned a natural style of hair curls
a virgin island vacation that never ceases

Here are islands that many would never see:
and experience worth more than pearls
a life of luxury sailing the seven seas

The rocking ship roar at high speeds
toward the next island turn
a virgin island vacation that never ceases

When in melancholy
the heart explodes
like a volcano

such words emanate
with love intermingled with sorrow
who knows of a tomorrow
life simply
ebbs
away
day after day
till comes another
happier day

It is evening, the night is here
and we are all inside. A dog
barks.

Dolores' dress is
too dirty she says
though
I see no dirt on it.

It is stained in blood,
see it signor?
here and here she point
by running her hand along
the hemline.

I see no blood
as I search
the white pleated dress.

Seriously Dolores? Blood?
Si Senor Jim from the men
on the road, they have filled
the road with their blood.

quickening we pace
an antidote sought
the shelter shell
a mask replaced

forgotten city
diamond dusted
broken like the cage
untrusted

the old quick wounds
defenses tame
taste thirsty fears
ghost seasons cold
embolden
enfolding
rise
like walls

a mist across the
distances falls

wall away ruin tryst
forgotten heart
enclave
enslave

the knocking in the
dead fall din
the darkness morning
like a fist

It happens sometimes,
I recognize the lines of his face
on other man
and we sit
in a nearby cafe.

In the background
you can hear a laugh
at some point
they start to sing
something
doesn't matter what.

His metal glance
turns him into satisfied dog
and a god I give a hand
to stand up,

it has hit me,
you died your first death
as a deep breath exhaled
never to return

memory is stirred
and the waters stain
a mountain of tears
rise up to brim
but are detained

the epitome of
a Gentle Giant
hands that could crush
held a feather light touch

quietly without words
your eyes said so much
blue orbs of innocence
calming all they moved

with empathy
you forgave,
even those
who trespassed
against you

Soon all time will bleed from me
I am torn between age and wisdom
as if I have been crucified by life.
the silence I endure turns me to
wood .

My throat burns with unspeakable
words that tear at my vocal chords
for freedom stretching like prisoners
on exercise.

I have the Mexican curse the
love of death but persistent
vitality which pins me to faith.