Inmigración

“¿Que hacen hoy?”, preguntan los jóvenes
sentados; en una casa,
en un suburbio--casi barrio.
El local de los familiares
Dolores.

“Están construyendo una pared,
desde el Rio Grande
hasta San Diego.
Un muro no hecho de ladrillo
y sin alambre de espino.

Se encuentra en el alma norteamericana,
Dentro de la cultura y los pensamientos
Las noticias y en las iglesias
En los corazones y en cada aliento, respirando.

Es un obstáculo profundo,
Y casi ilusorio--
Se llama el prejuicio
y el temor de lo desconocido;

se llama el silencio,
en que dos culturas viven juntas
casi siempre sin saludo,
sin cariño, sin cordialidad.
Sólo existe una tolerancia superficial
y muchas veces amnistía sin amistad.

“¿Cómo podremos vencer este sentido,
mas peor que toda fortaleza y todos seguros
materiales?” preguntan los jóvenes,
sentados, angustiados.

“Bueno,” contestó uno de ellos, diciendo:
“Porque no empezamos hoy,
a tratar de hacer lo mejor posible--
si todavía queda tiempo
Superar este enemigo invisible.

Los reformadores más admirados,
Como Gandhi, Martín Lútero King Jr.,
O Wilberforce--
Sabían que la animosidad no podía
Ser derrotada con el mismo odio,
Que le dio la vida.

Tenemos que ofrecer nuestro amor a nuestros vecinos--
también a nuestros obvios enemigos,
Recordando el consejo que nos dio nuestro Señor Jesucristo:‘Ama a tu prójimo como a ti mismo.’”

Wake Up!

What luck for
rulers
that men do not
think.

—Adolf Hitler

Thus,
WAKE UP!
Lest tyranny, like a
cancer,

mutate our
lovely
republic

s-l-o-w-l-y

into malignant
oligarchy.

And then

will come the
chilling
21st Century
wind
of technology-empowered
control.

Epilogue:

Ignorance is the kerosene,
Liberty the body to be burned alive,
And humanity the weeping spectator.

Another Poem (In a word)

In a word, I feel
rejected.
In a word, I feel
guilty--like I could have done something
differently, and
then everything would be okay.

In a word, I feel
empty.
In a word, I feel
confused.

In a word,
I've squandered away all my mirth with you
and now I've nothing else
but truth.

In a word,
there is not enough to say

how I feel about you right now.

So please--
be gentle; be kind; have
mercy.

And do not say you'll
never
see me the same way again. And,

See me again,
just like you did then--
again.

Vita cum amicitia et amor
pulchrrimum genus vitae est.
Etiam, unum temporis momentum
sine utra horrible est.

From John (Hypocrite)

Hypocrite:"If someone says, "I belong to God," but doesn't obey God's commandments, that person is a liar and does not live in the truth." 1 John 2:4

Hypocrite,
Synonymous with
the word human.
Like the fragrance of
death and the dead,
human.

Real, how can it be? All I
see is fake and selfish and
Who could ever be
real?

Love can be.
Love can be.

So Love,
rescue me.

"No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love has been brought to full expression through us." 1 John 4:12

Holy Free-Verse I

"Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there. " Galatians 5:24

If ever I tarry
Long, in the swamp of my
Sin, dispising the shame
And crying out in
Guilt.

If ever I shout in
Agony, vexed at my
Inability--to fight, to stand
Clear of this
Poison.

Then I come, Oh I just
Come. Battered, weary, dirty
Tainted; offering nothing but my
Failure--which you accept gladly,
In exchange for precious
Peace.

You beckon me so, to come, to come--
To nail my addictions there on that tree.
Where you once were hung,
You beckon me--
Where freedom comes
At Calvary.

This is my resolution, this is my
Joy. This is my peace, my strength
That inside alleviates me.

Only my life
Given liberally
Could offer any
Gratitude.

I Shall Wait

For thee, my love
My ivory,
My eloquent and tranquil
Ebony,
I can wait.

For thee, my love
My harmony
My charming, gleaming
Accompany,
I can wait.

It will not fade,
This song I sing;
Nor will it waver; this resolve within,
'Tis for thee and thee
Alone.

For thee, my love,
I shall wait.

Colleena

Colleena
Of the green meadows lies there
In a sweet, green repose.
The dew collects on her,
While the birds and the hares
Come and go.

For Katie

For you, my dear
Katie, with Love:

You are not weak
and you know that.
It shows.
It shows.

You are not complete
and you know that, and
I know.
I know.

And for some odd reason,
I feel like you need
confirmation--

I don't know--I don't know
why!

So I'm saying this again,
in its entirity, for the whole world
to see!

That you, my dear
Yes, you--
are beautiful.

And you, my dear
Yes, you--
are lovely indeed!

That you, my dear
Katie, are worth the fighting for--

And you, my dear, like a rose with
piercing thorns
are worth the bleeding for--

And I wish you well;
Yes, I wish you well,
And I pray you'll see a better day soon!

When that aloof wet stuff
in those pompous clouds, just
washes away all your troubles, and
brings you back to me, like a tear.

For you, my dear
Katie, with Love.

Care

For every ounce of
care, you place
quietly
on your lips, ears, eyelashes,
countenance,
and smile,
I respond with a
careful nod, a
sheepish smile, a
clumsy glance--a polite
bow, and hope that
for all my silence,
I've thanked you somehow.

But for those inner works:
a gentle heart, a
joyful
jolt
of kindred spirit;
I can thank only God,
Who's taken care
to carefully
make

you!

For Autumn
April 2007