PaulLobosPortugese

illumination

even satin gardenia and tropical plumeria fall some in their perfume some while
fading

our bushy locks thin with a smell of age while earth receives each memory without a
song

year after starry year we watch a rise and fall of breath friendly talk and the look for
loving

even our book of changes or an alchemy of illumination

all fall all into a sigh between the seeds of time

we kiss against tomorrows but lose the chase can¹t stop our coming can¹t forget the
going

so I surrender to minutes second by second staying how long I hope to please the
elements

and plant a fragrance of calmly working my lips into this glorious night
overspreading our watching

our bodies with friends until we can¹t hold on like falling flowers extending into wind

whatever your calling your sounding is plumeria and toward the carnival of our
twilight

we can at best be grace in falling and even gardenia but slave or slave driver we
must surrender as dust

Bones of the Sleeping Wind

Above early morning reed tops tiptoe children peer at my long black beard of
encouraging thought. Hard work Aztlan songs drift down the crying shore.
All day hard luck women pound the long week's laundry just below low flying purple
dragonflies over the virgin field of weed covered graves. Half naked boys smack
muddy holy water for fat frogs.

In the bitter distance government guns crack and bring everyday everyone to a few
seconds still. Sky gazing marguerites wave from the altar bright ridge overlooking
the lake of the twelve apostles. Pale deer drink the holy water of slow motion birds
crossing the talking waters. Worried about years of race wars I wait for the bride of
you in the magenta evening pencil in hand worry watching breaking twilight fade off
tuberoses.

I dream you bend your bodyline over the floating moon and drink its cool burning
circle. My shadow of my manly man folds across your silvered back lust wet with
your take me theme of future children golden years and mingled dust.
Rivers of blood lift our bones into ritual dance over the witnessing earth. A dark
flight of jungle sound passes through our mouth of dreams. We cling together at the
foot of a terraced mountain filled with skeletons of the sleeping wind.

Hot Indian summer night calls from your oiled jasmine thigh cloud of stark wildness.
Red lights blink above the white misty shore our gentle hiss of hips and finally
sleeping like spoons.

****
Staring at Lake Atitlan I held your loving hand and never let go.

****
I kiss your eyes sooner or later god willing we¹ll be clouds.

****
Washing our bodies near morning¹s lake bank we pledge our vows though we¹ll die.

****
Dreamt you said forever yours your lips opened and I was here now.

****
Midnight thighs talk wine song dance dawn on earth laughter beautiful tears
beautiful.

****
Sycamore leaves drift past tree carved lovers¹ hearts near the overgrown trail.

****
Behind kind weeping walls a woman a man make love sleep dream of each other.

****
Sometimes I can¹t tell if I¹m you like last night I you bathing my your feet.

****
She lights candles about our bed summons angels to sleep with my rage.

****
The crescent moon my lady painted with flowers white moths beating in the corner.

****
Sweating I hurry to meet my summer love shaded by a golden shower tree.