~Religion~

Sun Burst

12 February 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

¿How could I have foreseen I'd see life's splendored ways?
No theory fond to tell which way quanta would fade.
But blue time has arrived—reflect—meandering(s);

Spring sun warmed light skin glows—endless ways love's bloomed;
Trees reveal yellow green—yet, I remain obtuse;
Obscure—dark & remote,—love's passing all life smote;

Calm day—cigar puff, smoke—dissipating false hope;
If sun would now expire—& world came to an end;
All would be natural,—another moment strange;

Ineffable event,—misunderstood by man.​

 

Soul's House She Builds

16 February 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

But you cared,—you cared enough to live,
You cared enough to find true gold thread,—
Though trapped nightingale in golden cage,—
Escaped from mazes that own-self made;

But you cared,—you cared so much to hurt,
You cared enough to think yourself not,—
Though false illusions otherwise said,—
Released from strictures now meaningless;

But you cared,—you cared so much to heal,—
You cared enough to reconstruct self,—
Though battered structure seemed to give up,—
Promoted from then to health & mind's breadth;

But you cared,—you cared so much to learn,—
You cared enough to realize truth,—
Though limits stern seem wall our life up,—
Freedom's vast,—a house we daily build.

So with love's hammer and long patience,
Did start constructing soul's edifice,
A structure open full of light's play,—
Filled harmony,—stringed song & strong voice.​

 

rolling stones

21 February 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

life in its full accord,
shows soul how it can bend,
while singing full its chords,

yet Love will but allow,

for heart to wend its course,
never with sappiness,
with reverence,—of course,

never to feel sallow,

for chance to have its turn,
while speaking unique verse,
such a light load not borne,

fields never laid fallow,

mind in joy so gladdened,
billiards rolling on felt,
motion never saddened,

true & straight green allows,

as if pulled on a belt,
endlessly for miles,
round and shiny moves,—they

like planets,—sun shadows

passing by quickly,—¡hey!​

 

joy's fruit

22 February 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

I think I've a weird genetic anomaly,
Makes me optimistic despite reality,
Seems mathematical permutations quaintly,
Endowed me with predispositions happily,

It's known I see things with unperturbed clarity,
Never living without fortune's impunity,—
But one thing's blissful life with full sobriety,
Another's joy's red-yellow perspicacity,

¿For what's Heaven's orchid bloom surfeit verily,
If not living with unconstrained gladness daily?
¿Is this a random chance circumstance remotely,
Associated with living orange richly?​

 

soul's numeracy

24 February 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

i don't aspire to know about i.q.,
what does it say about what u tru r?
or, does it even mention heart through soul?
or, what our mind is trying to become?

but let's not quibble about what test means,
how can one number summarize red heart's,
dimensioned chromatic whirlings complex?
or, multifaceted emotions's twirl,

blue ocean waves distending into crests,
then falling back unto themselves rippled,
stray hues from rainbows flying upon clouds,
reflecting back prismatic sunlight bright,

can degrees measure arc's trajectory?
contain magical colored octaved rays?
or will wave height and periodicity,
stop storm filled sails with fury and wind force?

no, numbers meant to scale and describe size,
cannot contain what human beings sing of;
even though meter, rhythm and structure,
all have a rooting mathematical,

numbers,—no matter how complex, ain't me.​

 

so big god's sea—so small our bark

2 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Each day we walk a fine line razor-sharp,
Between running aground into shipwreck,
Or, fleeing seawards into stark storm's jaws,
In either case life buffets tiny bark,

Some, ignorant of danger live in bliss,
Others, fret incessant at dark problems,
Chronic, that may never have solutions,
Haunting us to our umpteenth day of life,

Yes, Typhoon's rage mighty makes us shift course,
But if we can survive in a safe zone,
Weathering out strong blowing gales that howl,
We emerge from our distress with great joy,

Resplendent,—huge shafts of sunlight streaming,
Filling all deep blue with green turquoise joy,
Allowing us to happy sample brief,
Majestic all of wonder's universe.​

 

bloom on ancient

3 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

each person's beauty copper sheens pertain

caught patinas—Autumn maple leaves,—reds

and any moment that description flows

of any moments that that life has lived

a treasure trove of beauty,—clear Spring brook

gurgles out from wonder land so sweetly

filling brightly spring bird song our short lives

making Eden bloom in driest desert

granting soul respite from daily struggles

leading frosted moon,—haunted magic star

¿how can it ever be late to start this?

¿how can God not celebrate with full joy,

that one of His creatures has awakened?​

 

¿do You think He cares?

3 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

sonoluminescent bubbles burble,

inside temperature hotter than sun,

some see hopes of fusion without limits,

others see that sound converts to light waves,

¿what do you think that's rising up heated?

¿where do you think words will go when sun bursts?

¿who do you think will outlive Gaia's term?

¿when do you think finality converts?

¿why do you think God put us here to feel?​

 

¿half-empty or half-full?

12 march 2005
corpus christi, texas

o my dearest friend,—what a rant you've had,
you've come to doubt everything that is world,
your words,—feel like an ancient prophet's,—vain,
and everything you do contributing,
to make a larger mess of what's all wrong,

but i a cynic,—see things differently,—
at times i have been possessed by these thoughts,
but being amerindian,—&,
being european,—&, being me,—
don't feel decimated,—persecuted,

just know that my ancestors's DNA,
required mixing with other humans,
to ensure that it would have more success,
as to the rest,—¿isn't the glass half-full?
¿why should a beautiful, sensitive gal,

not dress appropriately,—& feel good?
¿why isn't the SUV driving mom,
more important than overgrown rodents?
¿why can't i chose to consume more gas-oil,
in a bigger truck to protect my own?

¿corruption?—go to china or russia.
i see daily many struggle for right,
i see daily sacrifices of all,—
body, heart, mind & soul devoted strong,
on an altar of belief and courage,

yes,—there's so much ugliness in the world,
but a tsunami or avalanche soon,
or krakatoa or meteor crash,
don't seem to be more than white noise,—empty,
i'm sure the moons of jupiter are clean,

but sterile is a way without god's life,—
for me uncertainty is part of faith,
that so enthralls me and draws me through time,
sunlit its pathways and green its arbors,
though many days i do despair and cry.​

 

so brief the joy and deep the loss

12 march 2005
corpus christi, texas

angels are innocence untouched by life,
never having felt hatred or despair,
full of hopes and possibilities great,
materializing only like a wisp,

remind us of that better side of life,
leaving us to ponder short existence,
while they dwell in verdant lands far remote,
where only those whose hearts are pure can live,

for light and truth are daily reverie,
a joy as they look down and see our life,
so briefly touching joy forgives our deeds,
leaving us fair redemption's memory.​

 

Kali's Sacrifice

15 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

she writes bewitching as cryptic runes old,

inscribes her tale with multiplicities,

described precisely with red laser lines,

that open up heart's blood cavity wide,

ancient sacrifice cut obsidian,

beating life offering to gods above,

wrenching soul from one plane to another,

in an orbit quetzalcoatl white,

jealously has guarded eternally,

for necromancy only in full moon.​

 

¿how does She dream awake?

16 march 2005
corpus christi, texas

asphyxiating She has subtle dreams,
ghosts and images that haunt Her visions,
for fair Prophet discerns so many things,

drifting in life's ether moving soothe time,
til upon us Her predictions come forth,
in cerulean rivulets up sky,

surrounding yellow ribboned sun's play light,
allowing us the joy that choices bring,
revealing fate with all Her mysteries.​

 

to slay sloth's beast

16 march 2005
corpus christi, texas

26:28 He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.

yes i agree that charity is a a grand jewel,
often times the most precious of all diadems,
yet i would caution you my dear friend to beware,

lest you find yourself throwing pearls to dirty swine,
for in swill it's easy to lose what's important,
and beasts with hunger ravenous really don't care,

if gentility and purity bestow them,
but i agree that everyone a chance should have,
for a redeemer kind to offer a warm hand,

for in the final say everyone must choose life,
resolve to encounter difficulties ugly,
unsheath steel sword defeats sin's demon evil beast,

for salvation lives everywhere that man can walk.​

 

morning incantations

17 march 2005
corpus christi, texas

fay liturgy enchants a lay man,

with words in latin sung as in mass,

calling out a spirit trinity,

that defines our deepest wishes fair,

¿O-Where's Chromatic Iridescence,

so leprechaun we can hunt for gold,

hidden at sun's rainbow arch's end?

coins and jewels red heart desires fond,

soft touches, gentle words,—roses pink.​

 

Saint Pati's Day Blues

17 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

I went to Dr. Rockit's Blues bar to listen to some rock,
Smoke a cigar, drink some ale and get out of the house awhile,
But sometimes it's hard to escape our thoughts as they machinate,
So here I was a concrete wall—absorbing and reflecting,—
Gray—impervious to pretty girls and barmaids—just thinking— . . .

Without cares living in small corner of life's large tesseract,
We oft are able to hold tight onto for a little while,
'Til somebody else pulls a corner hard & weird distorts shape,
Way beyond normal intuitions we thought well understood,
Forcing us deny existence of another perception,

Lawyers recognize this phenomenon & define experts,
Small domains of mastery and competence one human knows,
But we less educated folk go about thinking we know,
Something about how round world's strange mechanisms true unfold,
Odd, for though we scarce feel, taste or hear Time quickly passing by,

We happily delude ourselves measuring velocity,
And think we know what a particle is or how a wave stands,
So I will recuse myself from answering but simple things,
¿What am I going to wear this evening—& when will I wake up?
¿How many calories will I consume tomorrow in food?

For I can't even begin to comprehend life's magnitude.—
For I haven't got the foggiest notion of what death is,—
For I despair at even understanding what love could be,—
& Would be quite satisfied embracing your fond smile each day,
Realizing it's easier to live love than to think it.​

 

Damn—Save

19 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

¿What's obscene & what's profane?
¿What's obtuse & what's abstruse?
¿Removing profanity,
so that you can watch a flick,
that's violent beyond belief?
¿What is it that pollutes mind?

Paraphrasing sage Jesus,—
"Nothing that through man's mind comes,
Can permanent dirty soul,
Only what resides in heart."

¿Have you thought about X-Box,
what's going on in the square?
Watch the game you bought your kid,
¿Will he someday shoot his friends,
because every day he killed,
brutally,—relentlessly,
coldly,—mechanically?

There's a temple deep inside,
Children learn to trash,—despise,
Taught by hate, neglect & fate,
It's much more than simple words,
No matter how vile they sound.​

 

Route 37

27 March 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Spring's land flush from rains blushes fresh green hush,
Gray asphalt's leads out of overcast haze,—
To sun's full splendor,—Azure with drift clouds,—
Clear Zephyr cuts across truck's canopy,
Gushing howls & screeches driving fog back,

Receding far to journey's beginning,
When Time's uncertainty had not begun,
To a past where maps did not converge here,
Where night's chaos held unresolved this day,
When imagination dwelt in shadows,—

Reflections cast about in empty rooms,
But now,—Outside,—So full of flowerings,
Purples mixed with yellows & oranges,
Sweeping panoramas I now behold,
But never imagined in lost darkness,

For I had tremulous set out on path,
Circumscribed with simple joys that daily,
Would fill my heart with certainty,—Leave doubt,
Recalcitrant and hesitant behind,—
As I journey ever closer to Thee.​

 

Wind Phantasm

1 April 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

¿What lies beyond this moment's happenstance?
Unbidden reckoning of futures dark,
That ne'er I peered into from Winter's age,
Bring no solace of a Spring filled with greens,
Or that these burdens will be lifted far,

A hope day's gnawing presence won't corrode,—
Ravenous erode with incessant cares,
That would deprive us of pink little joys,
Those winds—Zephyrs—that prowling blow flat blinds,
Each one a little wing urged to fly high,

Constrained by a geometry upright,
Complies with rules that make it only swing,
A bang,—a crash,—no music from these chimes,
For they just clang and clash against clapboard,
Though they never manage to break clear glass,

Yes,—I suppose I should just close windows,
Or pull drawstrings down,—shutting up blind's whine,
But then I'd not hear soft susurrating,—
But then I'd not fear outside would look in,—
But then I'd not clear know where my ghost lives.​

 

Some Tempo, Some Beat, Some Melody

1 April 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

Each wave along brown muddied water's edge,
Crests up white throated for its brief display,
Some barely stand up & silently fall,
Others manage to form a whitecap swell,

& Some develop a full tube of roll,
Distended by wind whipping overhead,
Much like out fortunes determined by fate,
At times at leisure,—at times at frenzy,—

Master conductor leading us tempo,
So sweet when reckoned circumstance each day,
That anyone cares to read our music,—
Much less direct it varying play's speed.​

 

John Paul II

2 April 2005
Corpus Christi, Texas

endurance,—God's athlete,—such distance,

beacon bright for all humanity,

integrity of man deeply held,

faith so deep that tumbled governments,

twinkle that could tweak a student's ear,

laughter with all others,—never at,

intense attention to each person,

peripatetic love's messenger,

interlocutor with all men's Faiths,

what a blessing to have had this man,

exist upon this mad world's flat plane,

universalist extending truth,

catholic to all colors and souls,

for such a man Mozart's Requiem.​