A raindrop on a rose petal
That holds a world within
A shimmer in the summer air
Is where it will begin
A sparkle in your lover's eye
When they look upon your face
A promise in a single glance
Says you're in the perfect place
A whisper dancing in the wind
Sharing secrets, hopes & dreams
A song upon the ocean waves
So beautiful it gleams
A smile on a newborns lips
So innocent & pure
A crease upon a mother's brow
For the worry she will endure
Such precious little moments
Suspended, held in time
See them as they are
Real, not a pantomime
They are there just for you
A treasure chest of gems
When you're feeling sad
From here your memory stems
& then as you remember
A smile begins to appear
All these little precious moments
Are there to hold you near
They will keep you warm & dry
When it's cold & wet outside
& when you're lost among despair
They give you somewhere safe to hide
So do what makes you happy
Go dancing in the rain
Lose yourself in fantasy
Let it ease the pain
Don't waste your moments
Make as many as you can
Live, laugh, learn, explore
& remember how it all began
Light caramel breeze
floods over the seas.
into our lives,
of promise, weaving
Cobalt veil lifts
as night surrenders
to pregnant morn,
of our skin.
echo soft hues, as
we watch golden orb
continue its path,
to grasp life
in yearning hands,
in formed memories
of this moment
your dreams in
but I tint them
with my own afterglow,
trapped in my own
reverie of luminosity.
your rosy words,
I turn to see
that you are gone,
of seagulls fades.
Nonfiction—Teaching Tapas (1)
My classroom is a block like one of those you stack to do math when you're in kindergarten. Desks turn forward like lines of British soldiers, and students shout and throw rulers and text each other in a war for attention. My desk is the general's tent—present, to the side of the commons and barracks, capable at a moment's notice to survey the ranks (all I have to do is lift my eyesight an inch from my monitor to review a regiment using cell phones to redo eyelashes or sneaking markers to color in a map of Asia or clunkily dropping fidget spinners). From this distance it's difficult to tell if a student in the back is passing notes digitally on the phone in her lap or using a calculator to complete physics problems. So, with a war-weary sigh, although sans mustache, cigar, and epaulets, I get up from my chair and remind the Front that their assignment is due in two minutes.
She wiped her hands on her inherited apron and caught a reflection in the chrome of the kitchen faucet, where the spigot always ticked: drip, drip... a dampened, furrowed brow, silvery waves, dim sarcastic quips... had she grown out or in? stretched or cramped?
All this time, here, but away: counting pins...
A rolling pin in hand, the tool of now...
The pins that pulled at her hair, clamping the past...
That gold pin of hope weighing at the gingham lapel...
Them game pins, reservations, little grand-kids' birthdays...
well pinned, standing solemnly on the needles of many someone's aching feet.
In Charlottesville they came
Much has happened today that I was unaware of till I
came home after a day with friends, 6PM CDT.
In a moment, when I turned on the news I was
horrified by the hate that was spread and the evil
that we can still inflict on one another.
I don't know what this hate is, and my heart was heavy that
a life was lost due to the loss of control of emotions.
Emotions that we have against our fellow man that spreads
nothing but hate. To impregnate the evil onto their fellow
man...their brothers and sisters and do harm.
In Charlottesville they came,
not to greet their brothers and sisters
and hold them in their arms
but to spit venom at them and
hold them at bay
In Charlottesville they came,
not to spread the words of love
nor extend their hands in friendship
but to punch and harm those that
thought another way
In Charlottesville they came,
not out of hope for peace
or the spoken words within law and order
but the discord of men's hearts
and the spreading of the imagined enmities
Water Churning Red
There's blood everywhere;
missiles in the air
The boat we flipped
to hide behind
gave us away
they had seen us
and the blows began
the water churning red
as we each tried to run
soldiers falling around me
the scent of death
fills our heads
we can barely breathe
but we only see the shore
the barricade we implore
hide us, hide us please--
my hearing went shrill
⠀⠀I screamed in agaony
⠀⠀⠀clutching my head
⠀⠀⠀⠀wobble toward the barricade
⠀⠀⠀I see my army
⠀falling around me
and I see
Four good friends, shared many a wonderful moments. Some moments contained laughter, some contained love. But, there was one particular time, that the moment that was shared was so profoundly special, that they each tried to capture it.
Amy pulled out her camera and tried to capture it in black and white. She loved seeing the contrasts in that particular moment and all of the shades of gray in between. That was how she would always remember it, many years from now, looking at that photo, framed and always kept on the main wall of all of her future dwellings.
Brenda always carried her pencils and charcoals on hand for moments just like this. She put the moment to paper. A moment like this deserved the paper of the finest sort. She wept when she was finished, she not only captured the moment perfectly, she captured perhaps the most perfect moment of her life.
Carly's form of choice was to distill the moment down to its purest poetic form. As the feelings of the moment translated into verse, she found that she captured the moment into a sonnet. A sonnet had never come together so quickly and beautifully before. She knew down to the core of her being, she would never compose a sonnet so effortlessly again.
Doug took in the moment in his mind, and took in his very best friends as they went to capture the moment before it fled. He took in how Amy studied the moment to get the perfect shot; she was so beautiful when she held that seriousness. He took in Brenda as she whirled her pencils over the paper; her wilds were always set free when she was drawing anything. He took in Carly penning her sonnet; she always seemed more alluring when she was lost in capturing verse. Doug wanted to capture it in a different way, but for him, the moment contained his friends trying to capture it perfectly as much as the part of the moment being captured by them. So he instead tucked it into his heart, the entirety of the moment and what followed after.
Four friends captured a special moment shared, each in their own way. Four friends marveled as to each other's technique of capturing the moment. Four friends continued to live and laugh and love, another special moment cementing their friendship further.
LMFAO (A Memory)
I picked her up from school in the rain
She was in the 1st grade
We walked to our apartment
Under the black umbrella
Surrounded by green terrain,
Brick walls covered in snails
From pavement to patio
As they sought to escape the water
That submerged their homes
It literally looked like a snail twilight zone
They gathered and slithered in every nook and cranny
Leaving no space to walk,
“Crunch, Crunch, Crunch!”
We walked on
Trying to avoid them
Until my daughter turned to me
And stated ever so solemnly,
“Mommy, I can’t take it anymore! Call the cops!”
Desire (Diminishing Verse Attempt)
Trembling beside him, full of fear,
and letting him whisper in my ear,
I could only mutter back, "ar."
Desire crept in me, and he careesed
my shoulders melted in to let him arrest
and we formed into each other, sweet rest.
His lips met mine, tasting both sour and sweat
and I breathed in his bare skin, color of farm boy wheat,
he nibbled at my ear and I wanted to eat.
My craving was him. As perfect as fall.
I climbed on top and wanted all.
His sweet lilts between kisses, ll.
But in the morning, he left me alone.
I reassured myself, I stayed lone.
But if I wanted him, I wanted just one.
He loves my mind!
With joy, I went out, seeking everyone and no one in particular. “Mrs. Gonzales, how are you? Is the mister doing fine? He had a stroke? I’m so sorry.” Is that why her hair turned white in just a year? I hugged her before I left. Walking further, that’s when I noticed it. The promenade. It was surprisingly clean and devoid of everyday trash today. Then I made a small laughing sound, the kind where you suddenly expel a breath from the nose. In reality, the promenade was just a plain concrete sidewalk lined with mango and palm trees and other wild plants appearing in no particular order or organization. And in my side of the world, it was also a storage space for people’s garbage and the occasional home of a stray cat or dog. There’s nothing promenade-y about it. But ever since they started building the mall opposite of it, I have started using that long abandoned walk, thinking that it too, is part of the future shopping center as a promenade of sorts. I was even wearing perfume and neatly dressed especially today.
Feeling satisfied, I increased my speed and turned right to cross the road going to the pharmacy. If I wish to return home the same way I came and without a headache, I need to buy water.
But isn’t this funny?
When I realized that he loves my mind, it felt like drinking water on a hot summer day. No more wandering in the desert, I thought. But here I am. Looking for something I just metaphorically drank. Like I needed a physical event to repeat and feel what my soul already experienced.
What a mystery. No, he’s the mystery.