New Year Revisited

You know what?
I heard the same thing
the same echo in the bottom of the well.

I caught the same glimpse
of shadows playing tricks
at the mouth of the cave.

And i threw the same rock
but the mountain hit me back
on my own hard head.

What do i know?
I will stomp my feet again
at chances the wind blow me by.

Maybe in desperation
I will pull my hair
and go "ahh" at the love that i dream
and lost in the thick of time.

And the dust
that i will smear my face
because of another year
because of another lesson learned.

I just know
that one day, yes - one day
i will grow up.

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This year is not so

my season for decorative stuffs

but the palm trees in the east window

bodies wrangled with electric bulbs

stand as sentries for economic blight

across the street a shy snowman

reveling in the sparkling garden

give the night a glowing reason

and though i say i ignore the spirit

i am easily cheered by my hot chocolate.

*Merry Christmas Everyone!

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Behind your tightlipped mouth
is a smile that don't want to flash
and a joy trailing your inner voice

I thought i may see an effort to resist
watched your cheeks elevate and blush
perhaps fake interest in your furrowed brows

but clearly you'll never speak of your love
but clearly you'll never speak of your love.

When Nature Skips a Beat

When nature skips a beat, where will i be?

I will be in a place nature intended me to be - next to a chain-link fence where new border plants are growing. I have some flowering Salvias already attracting bees and an unknown clustery-like variety slowly drying to its decay. Newly transplanted, i regularly water them in the early evening, after the earth has cooled down her belly.

When nature skips a beat, what will i do?

I will be watching. Everytime i sprinkle water on my greens, droplets will hit a hole in the post where a spider sleeps. Hide it will not, but will tip-toe on her garden web and welcome the rain, perhaps to a tune of halleluiah. Such curious behavior makes my heart sings as well.

When nature skips a beat, how will i react?

For six days, i watch the spider-in-waiting come down from her window. Controlled frenzy, a deliberate dash for a blessing. My enjoyment reciprocated - until today. She never shows up. No dance for his gardener, no word about a cancellation. What began as a muted joy was cut by a muted wonderment.

(previously self-published)

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it's december
i've taken shorter walks
and mumbled shorten prayers
for the passage of winter
clasping my bearish heart
i followed the dry wind's retreat
into the tameness of the woods
and packed tightly by the mountain snow
withdrew with the slumbering roots.

For Jaimee

my niece she was
nine months old (then)
her funny HeAd
(not) proportionate to her bOdY
craned over the windowsill
the chipped sunlight reading
glints of < separation >
and wordless___sequelae
after i surreptiously whispered
"Don't grow too fast, my angel".