The stream (all workshops)
The sun quietly
tiptoed on the sky's dark page
then a new dawn smiled.
the red fierce bride
by her tigers side
longing flesh bitten forbidden
she comes astride
the bold arch
the rivers pride
No words can ensnare the soft waves
of ecstasy that break the shores of our bodies
It is as twilight at dusk and dawn
where the creamy orange flame of day
meets the blue-black velvet sky
When truth is rich in the quiet moments
and whispers of passion are released
through primal cries of pleasure
and eyes are held wide open
to catch the fringed outlines
of youthful fire and smiles
that hold a lifetime of hidden desires
EIN SPATZ
ein Spatz kam zu mir an diesem Morgen
und wisperte in meinem Ohr diese Warnung:
wir, die Spatzen, singen nur ein Tag
hören Sie dann
und schwelgen Sie in meinem Lied
weil Morgen werde ich weg sein.
wieso ist es mit allen Wesen
Süße sind die Lieder, die wir singen
kurz die Zeit
lange die Erinnerung
Amidst the chaotic scenery
I had lost my muse
How horrible
For a poet to have no words to share
Indeed I felt lost
So during the nights I dreamed
Peculiar things I saw in my dreams
But none worthy to be spoken as poetry
Just dreams
But then I began to hear a voice
A voice of a woman mumbling
Mumbling things to herself
Practicing a conversation by herself
Day by day I would hear her voice through the walls
Talking to herself
Before Faraday came and left
We lit torches, held up candles
Oil lamp led through winding pathways
Darkness hung on the murky night
Passion struck in lightening glare
The earth magnetized, pulled and pushed
Hinted the imminent discharge
Darkness pushed by force of voltage
We built huge dams and gas turbines
To provoke the power of light
As it’s done elsewhere all over
In the advanced world of men
Far too many times my ship floats on
troubled seas of long past memories
haunting my nights until the dawn
might have beens which taunt and tease
Wide awake in never ending night
regrets replaying through my head
as cold and restless lunar light
spills through windows to my bed
Thinking of my long and twisting trail
too often I chose the wrong branch
but as eastern sky begins to pale
I prepare for yet another chance
CUARESMA
Isaiah 43:25
"Yo, yo soy quien borra sus transgresiones para mi propia consideración, y yo no recordaré sus pecados.”
Mis días me son Cuaresma
y lo que de mí rindo
de buena gana no lo doy.
pedazos de quién soy
caen de mi alma
desconocida
hasta no me queda
nada
de esta vida...
LENT
Isaiah 43:25 "I, I I am who erases his infringements for my own consideration, and I I will not recall his sins."
i.
these are just some
of the million things,
I’ve wanted to tell her
but we never, have the time
there are a thousand
days of light and mystery
that were brought into my life …
Tu-whit!- Tu-whoo!
ii.
I forgot these things
as I flow into the ether
surrounding the pillars
of Olympus, and I,
rest in wait …
Tu-whit!- Tu-whoo!
iii.
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