3 Poems of January 18, 2009

3.   Cosmic Dancer

in the eye of a chameleon
the change of skin
in the eye of a hurricane
the vortex of stillness
in the eye of the Beloved
the mystical heart,
from where the river flows
and the cosmic dance begins...


2.  American and Proud Of It

I have lots of coffee mugs,
don't remember where they came from
more often than not,
yesterday, while drinking my morning coffee,
the one with the American flag
on one side and the other,
these words:
"American and Proud Of It."
now, I don't know about you,
but I haven't been proud of America for
a long time I think,
I've been pretty much lost in a state of confusion,
how can my country 'tis of Thee,
sweet land of liberty
send billions of dollars to the newly oppressor
State of Israel,
why the bailouts for banks and car companies,
aren't the jobless
and the homeless who are
the ones suffering?
I've never seen a company suffer
but by the downfall of its arrogant
greediness
fat cats imprisoned only when
caught squirreling away
millions, stolen from other fat cats,
so from the ashes of yesterday
from the cries of the victims of
blind-eyed, deaf-eared, politics-as-usual
the cries of the long nights,
of white-phosphorous bombs, falling
and
the victims of social injustice right here
in our homeland,

on this day before Martin Luther King Day,
and two days before Inauguration Day,
I, the proverbial kid in a room full of horseshit,
look for the pony,
and dig for the hope that was the intent
of those who signed the Declaration of Independence
will guide the hand that takes the oath of office,
may the long history of the oppressed be remembered
championed
and addressed.


1.  Playground of the Soul

where is this place I go,
rapturous in the night?
a jacaranda blooms,
I its corolla,
from where comes the scent
of the night blooming jasmine?
how does it enter my soul?
who spoke to the desert
told it to flower,
Reina de la noche?
how do I know the answer
to sand-filled footprints of the Sphinx
atop Killimanjaro,
Mona Lisa's smile?

every cell of my body vibrates
in exquisite delight,
I yawn with the sun
pages of memory
like falling snow,
my gown,
the night stars, my crown.