The Artist

On a sunny day my thoughts are lifted high

Stretched relaxed peacefully adrift in an azure sky

High pressure is my delight!

On a cloudy day my thoughts plummet to the earth

Heavy leaden weights of dusty sorrow bereft of mirth

Low pressure is my fright.

 

On a warm summer day my pain melts I feel strong

I love to play to work to laugh and sing many a happy song

In summer my world is right!

On a winter day I ache and I suffer from cabin fever

I read I write I contemplate and wait for warmer weather

Winter is my personal plight.

 

On a quiet day when the wind is still my soul and spirit rest

I gather strength from the atmosphere I am safe in Spirit’s nest

Still days are my source of Might.

On a blustery day when the wind howls sweeping the earth

I hunker down to wait my faith is tested I rely on my second birth

On a windy day I hold faith tight!

 

I am a finely tuned instrument subject to the atmosphere I measure

Pulled up pushed down lifted rested then tested by outside pressure

A thermometer an emotional barometer!

I am intrinsically sensitive excruciatingly aware of the invisible forces

The Spiritual Breath that animates the living sets all things on their courses

A sensitive a spiritual winds anemometer.

 

I am purposed to gather atmospheric information and package it as art

I am a natural-emotional –spiritual-data-base predicting weather is my part

The information I gather is to share.

I ruminate I correlate I paint I write I create and present my data in a poem

I am a creative this is what I do the way I communicate Truth in teal ocean foam

An artist’s call lays the heart bare!

 

 

 

 

Fire of Culture

Colors bend, weave, and then fold…

Ideas lift, sift, and then turn all gold!

Meaning imbedded by truth so bold!

A story is born, then grows to unfold…

From the mind’s misty shadows told.

Written down in a fashion to be sold,

Print on young heart new mind mold.

Dreams, legends, all tales long retold,

Myths to pass down on a night so cold,

Warm fires of culture to give and hold.

Season’s Romance

A rosy morning sunrise prances…

(In a delicate sunbeam ballet)

Upon snowy February branches…

A frosty-day-sparkle-melt-away!

Spring warmth on winter dances;

Quick encounter a seasonal play!

Yearly rendezvous brief romances…

Warmth of life leads cold astray!

Icy dissolve nurture life’s chances,

Green rises to overthrow all gray!

Glitter-to-glint magnifies enhances,

Hope- for-spring-time-dream-day!

Slow-waltz Winter’s Spring princess…

Youthful rosy blush heats icy-day!

Old man Winter lost! Love entrances…

Summer entices Spring’s love away!

Summer falls to Autumn enchantress!

Bad-boy Winter flirt Autumn is prey…

Scandalous affairs seasonal romances!

Begin every year in a sunlit ice ballet;

Icy rose morning sunlight take chances…

Season’s romance spectacular display!

 

 

 

 

In a World of Wizards and Dragons

When the Wizards rise to power,

As men who favor magic set Nature’s God aside,

And beautiful horrible dragons fill the virtual skies!

Look but resist, don’t in fear cower;

Participate when you must, take the rest in stride;

Hold onto Truth, recognize deception and its lies.

 

“Drop your electronic device and move away from the windows!”

 

Shut it down, unplug, disengage, and go outside!

Welcome to this ancient world! Experience the joy and the pain!

Breathe deep in pleasured gasps, the air giving life to all the living.

The warm sun burns tender skin and man’s pride!

“Kiss the Son” while time remains, from virtual blindness refrain;

Don’t fear the dragon’s darkening in random smote so unforgiving,

Powered by fear, reprobate imagination to deride!

 

“Look up! Jesus is coming soon! Wash your mind in His Word and in Spirit pray!”

 

Don’t be overwhelmed by the Beast’s dazzling image!

Resist when they want to place a small chip inside your head, on your brain;

With the desire to govern over you, even through your inmost intimate thought.

If you must choose instead to be homeless, eat garbage,

Or die; Do this rather than surrender your eternal soul for only, temporary gain.

Soon this rising evil specter will vanish in its preset limit of which we’ve been taught.

Brother, remove your mind’s eye from this evil visage!

 

“Focus on Jesus, live in the real world. Take a walk, plant a garden, and hear the birds sing!”

 

Remember your children; Satan desires to devour them all!

Don’t allow them to live their childhood locked inside fantasy behind virtual walls!

Do they know that dragons aren’t real? Or that a sword in reality hurts and draws blood?

Mom! Dad! Take them outside, teach them to run and play ball!

Give them a puppy, a kitten, to hold, and to tend beyond the world of digital halls!

They need empathy now to ensure that the future they govern won’t end in a cruelty flood!

Show and teach them; Nature’s God is watching over all!

 

“Wizards and their dragons will vanish in the instant of a solar flare or crash of electronic grid.”

                                                                     Nature’s God Remains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tune of Heart

Oh! Listen to the new tune playing upon my heart!

It’s light as feather stirred by emotional weather…

Lifts by the sun; drifts with moon; love to impart!

Sets dreams aquiver, light of inspiration to deliver…

Dips down in a sad swoon, dream-despairing-heart…

Melancholy blue savor, open Door for sad-believer…

Breath of Life re-stirs my sensitive’s feather-heart!

Spirit Wind of Savior, blows away feelings-deceiver!

Strum Your melody; melt my tragedy; purify my art!

Song I sing to brighten other in heart-fickle weather…

New joyful tune, sun or moon, plays upon my heart!

 

Paper Tatters Flying in the Wind

Write the number of my days on fine rice paper.

Tally them, and tear…

Delicate hand molded sheet into bits and caste it in the wind!

I can no longer understand the sum of those days nor transcend,

The heartbreak of futility or tragedy’s rude temper!

This calamity I fear…

Shattered my existence by the hand of happenstance I can’t bend,

Into a shape I can’t cope with, I can’t make my scattered mind comprehend,

How or why God allows evil’s continued mad caper!

In emptiness so clear…

I tremble in askance in the presence of my horror from which I can’t fend!

I’ve lost all surety of knowledge of just who I am in this ominous moment self-end!

Blanketed by sorrows I feel my faith’s diminishing taper.

Father rescue me here!

Without You, I am only tattered delicate rice paper flying in the wind!

 

 

 

 

 

Isolation Splendor

Welcome! To my virtual bubble;

This special place I’ve worked hard to create.

It’s free from all pain and trouble!

I sit, I scroll, I click, I sift, new reality I replicate!

High-Definition-Photo-Shop-double,

A slick profile, the Me I want to be; a duplicate.

Perfection that hides all the stubble,

Of the imperfect me, and allows me to insulate,

From all suffering outside Me bubble!

Ingenious, I’m sure you agree?

 

Welcome! But beware! Don’t say what I won’t hear!

I will block you, disengage, and ignore!

I will start scrolling, searching, find what I will hear!

Validate my opinion, make me feel more…

Sure of world created in my image; to isolate fear;

This bubble I digitally painted as reality tore,

Became too much to handle so, now find me here;

Denying all sorrow, ignoring a bloody war!

Suspending the truth, in chosen ignorance sheer!

I see you’ve done the same?

 

My bubble pops! Outside-in! Reality is over-ride!

One pop and crash then another pop and another!

Giant bam virtual crash! We run but we can’t hide!

From sin or sorrow or ignore blood of our brother!

Virtual images of gods tossing nature’s God aside?

Will delete! When flood-gates open and smother,

In consequences, those who truth and sin denied!

Splendor of virtual isolation lost…

 

Enter that world of feel and touch!

Experience truth’s painful cost..

Hugs, sun, love! We missed so much!

 

 

 

Sustaining Joy

Every day new worlds rise! And old worlds fall apart.

I am told this is only, a matter of perception.

What do you do when your world is taken all apart?

Is good attitude, a positive thought of deflection,

Able to override calamity? Or mend a tattered heart?

Is faith only energy? Form of magic imagination?

 

I believe that true faith hurts and bleeds very red.

Because when Lazarus died, “Jesus wept”.

Then He called him and raised him from the dead!

I know that in Jesus, my sad soul is kept.

Though my old world crashed down upon my head!

Jesus is here with me; my need is met.

 

Herein lies my joy! Whether I be happy, sad, even mad,

If I be abandoned, crushed, battered, or stoned,

Should persecution come, the enemy steal all I’ve had!

Jesus paid the ultimate for me; my sin is atoned.

Even though in this world I find little to make me glad,

He understands; in my heart never be dethroned!

There He rests, keeps me warm, when all’s gone so bad.

 

 

 

 

Hey, Mr. Tecalote’!

Hey Mr. Tecalote’! (lock, load, click!) You are still just a buzzard circling under another name!

You can hide behind your acronymic letters: BLM, EPA all day long…

But still you are a vulture! Though you are now bigger in number you play the same old game!

A scavenger that feeds on the carcasses of the weak and the strong…

It’s time for you to go home now! To your land where the Babylon towers scrape the sky tame!

Purple Mountain Majesty, Field’s Fruited Grain, land where I belong!

It’s much too dry out here to hydrate your delicate skin; sun- sand abrasion leaves you lame!

Hear this Tecalote’! That which leaves you weak made us very strong!

We cling to God and we pack a gun, for centuries we’ve settled, live, and thrive in the same!

And I’m wondering, “Who the heck made you king?” Your way is wrong!

Environmental-dream -fallacy! Who puts food on your plate? Gas in your car? It’s not a game!

Misuse our land for your power? You will in the future sing hunger’s song!

Crush the workers, the creators of wealth; break the back-bone of this nation; all your shame!

In New Methico there is a new harsh saying; a “Breaking Bad” cynical-song…

In this empty desert there are lots of holes and there is one waiting especially for you to claim…

Tecalote’ en su compadres, narco traffickers! Starved out! Meek are strong!

 

Reference Key: Tecalote’ is Spanish for buzzard, vulture, or scavenger. Historically, in New Mexico it is a peasants term used for those who rule over them by oppression. New Mexico’s history is ancient and we have seen many Mr. Tecalote’s come and go. It is a statement of defiance and endurance.

“There are many holes in the desert” is a newer common expression derived from the Narco-culture over-riding everything now. I use it to reference the estimated 100,000 Mexicans murdered in Northern Mexico, during the past ten years in the drug and human trafficking war over trade routes into the U.S. It is also, a reference to those refugee/immigrants who died in the desert trying to cross over to a better life after their agricultural economy was crushed by NAFTA. It is a reference to all who’ve died in New Mexico as a result of trafficking and as the result of using drugs. Tecalote’s and traffickers are well-known bed-fellows and together they dig holes and fill them with the bodies of people no one cares about but they are also, digging their own graves and will end up in the same holes.

 

 

 

 

 

Testify!

Father, touch me with your Spirit!

Stir the stagnant waters of my soul;

Lord, I pray, lift me so far above it!

On Spirit’s wing, transcendent goal;

Help me live beyond mortal limit!

In this life and beyond Death’s toll;

Here, now, in my eternal minute?

Cleanse my lips with a burning coal!

Let my words be blessed benefit,

To all called to the tally of Your roll.

Those the Father called to acquit;

Mercy gratis pays final Death- toll!

By Grace I’ll stand that final audit;

Testifying Jesus! Lover of my soul!