Looking over Granada

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Poems from the Road

Bus of Blues and Love

Blue skies lead me out of the city.
The sparse clouds, each on their own time, replace a simple faith
with thoughts of mine.
I thank you, Autobus, for not making such a stink or a fuss.
I thank you, more or less, for enabling me to see
these beautiful, dry fields of Spain
and the decrepit buildings and towns
who are given a name with a tin can of spray paint.

Blue skies lead me to lamented desolation,
on a bus with a perfect destination.
The spared shrouds of green seem only to envelope me.
I thank you, friends, for helping me.
I thank you, friends, for the envy.
These beautiful, curved mountains of Spain
call me from a distance, without saying my name.

Blue skies lead me above
on this bus of Blues and Love.

Cracked Marble Steps

I walk these steps in the dark
The darkest night of my life
The life in which I tried
And figured out it wasn't really mine
These steps are seemingly never ending
Collapsing under my feet
Before I can even step off them
I barely elevate higher
Aspiring greatness and inspiring tasteless
Arks of cement, originated by grain
and hopes of riches and fame

It's so dark I can't see
This isn't really true to me

I could be the next greatest
This could be the next greatest
step towards advancement in my life
These steps are gratuitous
beautiful, but not the newest
These arks are old
Bold, brazen, and cold
A card game I'm unwilling to fold
and truth be told- I like the mystery
The pilgrimage of misery
For the first time I'm alive
even if I can't see
even if I don't survive
These cracked marble steps
against my swollen feet
are ever so divine


Maybe I've only seen you in Ruins
but you still catch my eyes
Still beautiful as before
as I've heard you to be...

If this is your city in ruins
than you have much to live for
Optimism peaks through
the dirty windows and whispers
"I will be back"
Though to me you never left

In the mornings you claim to be ruined
A sight for no puritan
not even a heathen
but the make up washed away
from the floods have only made
you more appealing to me
more pure and more free

Maybe I've only seen you in Ruins
in high heels and stalkings
not the attire you're used to wearing
You can embellish yourself with gems
but in the end
you're still as beautiful
as the emerald on your finger

This is such a pity of ruins
ruined by disaster
some months prior
but plans can always be redrawn
and cities can always be rebuilt
and love will never cease to exist
it lives in another form, with another twist

I was closer to the tomb than your ruins in bloom
walking into traffic blindly like a zombie
of Baccus
a slave to the grape crusher
And your city awakened me
It gave me hope that we can develop

So maybe I've only seen you in ruins
but I'm glad
to have seen you so vulnerable
and sad
and to have picked you up off the sand
hold your hand
and help you forget, even for just a day, your city in ruins

I was an architect
and you were the plaster
and because of our ruins
we molded together

Rock Cave

The Rock Cave is a place for me to hide
But a place for you to live
How vain of me to Gawk while you observe
spreading your mountain wings
like a sharp hawk- you protect your rock

In the Rock Cave I'm enslaved while you live freely
I'm a stain on your home
couples come out like drones
Red Eyes peer out of Black Days
Gold Eyes blend in with Tanned Greys
Of Stone
The confines you call home

The Rock Cave is a place for me to hike
but a place for you to sleep
outside of small villages
on the top escaping pillages
The Caves are not recommended
or neither all that splendid
for the spoiled and toiled
but for you it's a sanctuary
a place for visionaries
All That IS True

How vain of me to think I could hide
in a Rock Cave with a Thousand Eyes

Steer Me Alone

All the places that we find
or desire with our eyes
are all here waiting for us to see

All the fire we wish to warm
heat the logs that we adorn
have burned to ash waiting for us to plea

All the pictures painted past
histories of all the clash
tell a story waiting for us to read

The wheels that hike up paths
in the mountains, through the grass
have sprouted waiting for us to plow

All the birds that fly so high
and gawk and squawk with vocal cries
have nested waiting for us to hatch

All the walls that carve from stone
form a castle with a heavy throne
there sits a goblet waiting for our lips

All the tears we shed when we depart
on our adventures seeking art
to see the beauty that awaits us
will still remain in our hearts
and are willing to spend time apart
from our families and our friends
until our return, when we commence

our legs will burn
our nests will warm
our eggs will hatch
our birds will swarm
the bus will stop
the castle will rock
the goblet will nourish
and the soul will flourish

For all the places that we find
will change our lives and our minds
and will always be there
waiting for us again

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