My invisible lady
Called suffering
Comes to me in the mist

Dressed in bright
White
She blinds dark night

She holds a cold rose
Called loneliness
Resting above is snow

I talk about my struggles with her Sister
While she bounces lemonade in a jug The old fashion-way
And serves me some in a champagne Glass
She hangs her clothes on department Store racks
With Picasso leaning on a wall
She doesn't have a phone
And neither does her boyfriend  
They never met on one
But she uses one to call me on a Friday Night when I'm
Alone

We drive downtown to Wazee's with Two punk rockers
They order a pitcher of beer
And tell us they'll be back in a few - A few is a long concept to them

We pay the tab
And walk up 15th street to Colfax to Grant
Where she decides to see her boyfriend
She says she'll buy a ball so we can Shoot some hoop
Jazz on Jeanie, Jazz on!

Una señorita en la Mezquita
Was praying con una
Rosa in her mano
While una paloma
Flew above her cabeza

Una angelita en la Mezquita
Kissed me en la cheek
Now mi alma es clara
Because la paloma
Flew above my cabeza

A man went crazy
Trying to rhyme
His poetry
To laps of the sea

When mi Dios
Opens
La puertita
De mi alma
(Of my soul)

Mi personalidad
Like
A tiny magnifico bird

Flies high

last summer
rain bowed
slumber rainbow

Leaf and mist
Like life
Pressed
Between book pages

Like a candle lit
And human wit
Both move and sit
Like leaf and mist

The leaves will never know
Me
As I blow in the wind
With them and
The cold coffin snow

The leaves will never know
Our sorrow
Not yesterday or
Tomorrow's
We cast our lives in
Deserted deserts

So much life in
Flowers and trees
So much life in
You and me

Don’t become a tree
Knot

But rather be a cosmo-
Naut

It is my belief
We are like a leaf
Floating up on the air
Settling down anywhere
Crumbling then disappear

A leaf with lines
Like lettuce
Like rivulets
Like a staff of music
Like tracks of a train
Like joining stars under the rain
Like science or literature
Like the human lineage

Lines for order
The beginning was water

On

A leaf with lines

To the rain

Washing away

Pain

Listen

To the rain

Magically

Gradually

A slow tempo tune

Listen

The drops

Could fill spoons

For a near

New

Year

No one will know
The peace in my soul
Under London trees

They protected me
Like umbrellas
From the rain

Then shy
London sun dried
The drops from the treetops

Maria
Bought an automobea
From a woman called Cheila
Who did the cha cha cha

Maria
Drove the automobea
With a ballerina
And a pet armadilla

When she was stopped by Divino
The born again wino
Who was from a rodeo
Rode a motorcyclo

Where they met cleopatra
Not on the Nile
But on a *****-o-lina
A cook with a spatula

My guitar
Is my deepest heart angel
Her body pressed against
Me makes me faithful

At times the dusty pegs
Beg to be turned
To tune the strings
To play for celestial Queen

To play classical
Or electric
My guitar can play basic
Or eclectic

A chord may hoard
The space of sound
Where a single note
May float on the breeze

My guitar
Is my deepest heart angel
A desire to reach a star
Like a gull through fire

The storm
Without boundary’s frame
Does not know its name

Nature has no shame

The tree
Stretching arms with leaves
Like hands dipped in the breeze

Nature has no shame

Like life - ocean and rain
Cannot be contained
Hear His never ending refrain

Love has no shame

Faces upon faces
Going through me
Will there be linking traces
To see

A necklace of experiences?

Our life was not scientific
Not out of some Petri dish

Rather our life's genesis
Was boiling and bubbling

In earth's dark crevices
Overflowing illogicalness

The penultimate is

Despair

The ultimate we don’t know

For we’re not there

Old man Lux Brumalis -
“Light of winter”
With long shadow branches
On cold blank white patches

Old man Lux Brumalis -
Has put a blanket over Harvest
As he intermingles and rests
Through the springtime apricus

One wave
From many
Curls like a snail
Like a memory

Hello
This is your introductory
_ oem
As y_ u may know
Not all  _oems need to
Rhyme
Practice though
And in good time
You may be anoth _r
Alexander _ _ _ _

* Complete first four blank lines to discover poet's surname.

1923
William Carlos Williams
Wrote
The Red Wheelbarrow

And in 1564
There was  
Christopher Mar _ o _ e:

"It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate".

- From: Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight? -

HE sent me
A wheelchair to my bus
Not a lot to discuss

When I asked him,
"Where do you want to go?"
He replied: "I don't know."

Still I cared
For Pirate Eye
Wheelchair guy

You see

Writing poetry

Is

My

World-processor

Class do not rhyme
The following:

Fire with desire
Walk with talk
Dog with God

Wild with child
Ground with sound
Pool with cool

And never
Ever -

Poet
With I know it

He lived below this white cliff
In a cave by the ocean’s shore
To no particular society
He recited
Long ago poets of old
Such as Blake, Tennyson, and Poe
But the grey ocean’s natural roar
Like tomorrows and ages before
Rolled over his words
And left him, my ancestor, submerged.

Where sky and roads
Meet
Everything is cold
White

And the huskies hearts
Beat
Ready to conquer
The epidemic

For the challenge
To bring the serum
Home
To Nome, Alaska

There's the long sled
And musher
With tempered whip
Ready

Where doctor
And nurses wait
Patiently -
There cannot be delays

The Huskies hearts
Beat
As in a race
Running briskly

They sense a mission
To erase
Deadly diphtheria
Disease

so natural and able
to trickle down and around
an apple

Rain -

Cold heavy concrete
Seeps in my dreams
And grainy reality

/\
   /\

Then I walk outside
Publicly tie
Squishy shoes that sigh

I do not know
Who will be next to sleep in
My room
But I do know
Who will sleep in
My tomb

Where I will go
The ground seems
Cold
Though I don't know

Where I will go
Down a hole
The earth seems
Birth less

Where I will go
I don't know
Sometimes it seems
To flow into something

There's me!
Shadow and tree
Playing freely
With the wind's hand

Child's play
For all day
I am shadow and tree
Forming a trinity

With my friend
The wind
And the sun
Let's us run to the end

Shadow flower in the ceiling
Has me feeling                      
Bluesy

Yet I behold
A golden flower
Sunny

Awake from the ground
Tell me something profound

Speak to me proud
The wisdom behind a cloud

Not in worldly words
But like the ocean in cadences

This silent movie is a
Mystery
The First World War
Reeling in black and white

I wonder what it was like in color?

Faces looked to the camera
I could have been one of them
A soldier with a bayonet
Or a prisoner

Yet I am a viewer
Watching many years afterwards
Observing the planes and Bombings
In this silent movie museum

As I leave the silent movie
Museum
I hear the hum of history
Blowing in these city trees

Since I am French
And so naturally blasé
Thought I would be passé

Ooh lá lá the clichés!
I don't wear a beret
Or recite poetry at cafés

But somedays

I do like my rosé!

Concentric dancer on
Rolling stage
Great surfer of solidified
Waves

Spins like a hula hoop
With his rollout group
Then pivots on a concrete
Mountain

Observe Cygnus on a beam
Statue of perfection -
Momentarily
Jumps off the trampoline

Where he does 'The Walk'
A flip
Snake surfs on the waves

King city ballet finale!

My sky is a garment -

The roaming sun and splendor dome

A hill, steep, still slender

While the world spins wordlessly Around

My sky of air