Await
.
Gently I go
forgetting my tomorrows as yesterday is gone
allured by the brightness of today
and yet another day-
My heart beating fast at the approaching dawn,
No need to let go when everything is taken
and the only decision is to let go
not in eternal sleep but awaken.
.
H.O. 1/28/2015
Once
–
I live for the moment and another one,
never more than once
when I have today and forget tomorrow
in a life not mine but just one I borrow.
~
I live for an instance and another one,
never more than once
when emotions feed a desire for living
in a life with time so much unforgiving.
~
I live for a minute and another one,
never more than once
life is but a minute in the scheme of time
and to live it longer would become a crime.
–
H.O. 1/26/15
Assent
.
When old and exhausted I pause to look back once more
a gesture of grace and acceptance of what was before
and no longer holds when letting go becomes easy to do
of everything left behind dismissing the what or the who.
~
And what roads will open up as I look ahead in my travel
with an open mind when new things and places unravel
and decisions made in history no longer feed me regrets
creating the twist and turns in a life that easy forgets.
~
What I leave behind doesn’t matter once I accept my fate
without the reflected shadows in the mirror that I hate
leaving behind all my shame of a life carelessly wasted
between the sweet and the sour that I willingly tasted.
~
Now I prepare my departure to the place where I belong
teaching the ones which I love to be right or to be wrong
and to embrace with their faith a life like mine before
when old and exhausted I pause to look back once more.
.
H.O. 1/23/15
Life-less
.
Death comes in many ways and forms
a dwindling hope that numbs the soul
and every day becomes the same,
behind goodbyes or painful shame
in the aftermath of passing storms
with times gone in youth time stole.
~
Death comes and hides in forgotten faces
underneath the sheets of a lonely bed
and on empty walls with pictures gone
behind waking hours waiting for dawn
and on dusty pages of a story unread,
death comes and hides in so many places.
.
H.O. January 20, 2015
Torcido
.
Un carajo de vida but mine to live
an understanding with a twisted tongue
or mixed lenguajes inside my head,
with mis voces resonating instead
lost in conflicting ideas y sueños hung
where nothing left for me to give,
with ángeles y bestias inside my head
and a fading god that won’t forgive,
y me quedé solo as I was misled
en un carajo de vida but mine to live.
.
H.O. 1/14/15
