Monday, April 13, 2015


I know of many presidents
The little voice in the back seat recalls
Which one talked about peace and love?

Blue sky

Teetering at the edge of bankrupcy
I try and I walk
Towards that promised blue sky


Scooting under the intense spring flowering
I had today a preview of things to come
Not again, rules, more rules Daddi?

Saturday, April 11, 2015


Maybe it is time for me to embrace
My fears and insecurities
As the land welcomes the Spring

Friday, April 03, 2015

First, redux

Only a fool
Would take this for Spring
Winter, leave the stage!

Is there?

Is there a writer in me
Hidden fearful oppressed
Waiting to bloom again?

Thursday, April 02, 2015

Late start

A friend just reminded me
Of a public demonstration
Decades ago, 
33 years to be precise
Listening to who then was president
Announcing the invation
Of far away islands
I was there, by a statue
With friends calling this idiot
A drunk, an intoxicated person
Sending our country down a crazy path
A path of war, where the other would be killed
Not him, the drunk president

And suddenly I realize
That one of those little heads
At the base of the white pyramid
One of those heads
One of them
It was me. 

Tuesday, July 01, 2014

July First

Unsolicited, unfriendly
the first of the month came
and left us alone 

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

So long April ...

A good songs show
As he springs into his third season
All is good at home

A Fidel, mi otro Abuelo

Te fuistes cuando tenía nueve
Apenas pude conocerte
Supe de tus luchas y pobrezas
Tu bondad y entrega
Tu carrera tardía
Creo que tengo tu genio
Huraño, montañes 
Las fotos nuestras 
Son lo que queda
De los momentos que pasé contigo. 
Y recuerdo la mañana
En que papá llegó llorando
Llovía en la ciudad de las acequias
Te fuistes con la lluvia
Como huyendo de tu encierro
Nunca antes ni después 
Lo vi llorar. 

The rain drop

The pleasure of walking
Under cold pouring spring rain
Is very short lived. 

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

A mi Abuelo

Te recuerdo de repente en la noche
En la mañana y en la siesta
Hace treinta años que te fuistes
Y recordarte me duele tanto
Tanto como cuando te lloré
Solo en aquel río lejano
Solo en aquella noche de verano
Y el dolor se hace suave caricia
Suave gracia
Te fuistes pero estás