Bolero

You loved me on Monday,
On Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.
Come the weekend,
You didn’t love me anymore.

I dance with a stranger.
She is not you. She is not you.
The music is crying,
Tears run red, bleeding from her soul.

The river runs dry,
The river a river no more.
The bed beneath,
parched and praying for rain.

My heart cracks
a thirsty earth longing for drink
from the goblet el amor
The days, the nights, oh the nights.

You loved me on Monday,
On Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.
Come the weekend,
You didn’t love me anymore.

How can I say no?

“How can I say no?”
God asked the First Day
when the earth requested

a little bit of light to see
its way through space
and time. So God moved

‘cross the waters of darkness,
and spoke what he’d longed
to say way fore yesterday.

“Let there be light,” He said
with that twinkle in His eye
He had when He was at work.

The light lit up the sky,
it lit up the dark places too.
God saw that it was good.

And He said so.

“How can I say no?”
God asked another Day,
the second to come His way.

The water was not happy.
There was a need for division.
So God invented mathematics

that Second of Days,
dividing the earthly waters
from waters in the sky,

a division all because
He did some addition
and made a firmament

before creation knew
a firmament was wanted.
God saw that it was good.

And He said so.

“How can I say no?”
God said to a Thirdly Day
when the earth demanded,

“Land, I say land.
I need me some land.”
So God being God

said, “Let it be.”
The waters parted
and up sprouted earth.

God knew His work
was not near complete.
He grew some grass

and plants and trees,
every sort and every kind.
God saw that it was good.

And He said so.

“How can I say no?”
God wondered aloud
on that Fourth of Days.

He wrestled the day
from the night, the spring
from the wintry chill,

the autumn from the summer,
the stars from the darkness,
the moon from the sun.

So that in times to come
there would be a season
to sow and a harvesting.

God had spoken,
His speaking made it so.
How good He saw it was,

And He said so.

“How can I say no?”
God asked the Fifth Day
come ’round begging

for the Day had a hank’ring
for some fishes to catch.
God rowed out to the river

And tossed in some light.
Soon there were fishes
that the Day might catch,

birds, lions and tigers
and whales the size
of a continent or more,

creatures big and small
and in-between too.
God saw it was good.

And He said so.

When Friday came along,
God was sure he was done.
with all His creation.

But He was an only
God and the solitude
was an unbearable thing.

No companion or friend
to play with or to love
or to show off to.

“How can I say no?”
God said to the loneliness.
Then He made Him a friend

and the friend a wife
to complete His creation
that was all very good.

And He said so.

And God said,
“Time to get me a rest.
How can I say no?”

Then on the Seventh Day
He laid His head
on the green green grass

to allow a Saturday
to pass before a new week
sprouted from the earth.

Then Sunday peaked
out from the ground
and said “Hey” to the sun.

God got down to work
with the weeding to be done.
And God saw it was so good

that He said,
“How can I say no?”

It’s raining in America

It’s raining in America,
or at least it’s raining on my town,
water splashing the windshield,
wipers setting a beat for the music on the radio,
headlights from the oncoming cars
falling like Christmas lights onto the city streets,
travelling their passages to love and glory,
passengers ridding waves of time and space.
It’s night time in the city,
And angels walk the clouds above, waiting for the daylight.

Soon.

Purgatory

One foot in the water
One foot on the land
One’s turning left
One’s rightward bound

Like the Roman go Janus
Or the Gemini twins
One foot’s going outward
The other’s coming in

Straddling the proverbial fence
‘Tween today and the morrow
One’s on a road to hope
One regret and sorrow

One’s going to Hades
One to Avalon
Like Humpty Dumpty
I may crash and burn

So I take a moment
To charter moon and stars
And wonder what to do
When both feet spread too far.

The Green Days of Paradise

Rome wasn’t built in a day
And a soul takes a lifetime
Yesterday an empty glass
Tomorrow another sip of wine
Day by day sunrise and sunset
And moon and stars out for a stroll
Images painted on the heavens
Clouds sailing and geese sing their call
Shadows climbing the afternoon
A voice makes a beautiful noise
A face is a long ago memory
Of a garden of a red red rose
Where a squirrel and a cat drink tea
And a pony rushes off for a ride
Through canyons and arroyos
And into the green days of paradise.