As she washed
upon the shore,
her long slender
limbs shook the
sea off her skin.

Tales from Montenegro

There once was a man who wept,
on a river of his tears he slept,
while of rushing, falling rain he dreamt,
and his heart's beat at a quick pace was kept.

Away he drifted and far beyond was sent,
while within the land of dreams he was lent,
by a red tailed raven, a feather tall and bent,
which with as he woke, he rose, and high above he went.


Photo Credit- Josh Elan

Thunderous Tranquility

Somedays it’s good to change our old styled time,
For at times our sun needs to be treated like a child.


And the moon we should strip bare of all her layers
Like a sophisticated onion.


And once in a while, I think the trains
And buses should wait for an hour, no,
Two, simply because we weren’t there yet.

If I only had a nickel

The day gathers round dusty clouds of gray stone,
rusty hearts of iron men,
fear factories billowing heavy smoke from their stacks,
sanded glass store front windows,
green liquid on printed paper, a door less house,
and the texture of a rainbow for the blind.

A box of lightning to tap away at,
a teardrop hanging from a thread tied to a dark eyelash,
the bare feet that leave no print on the concrete of our streets,
a winter’s worth of passion boiling on the stove.
While a clock no one looks at wastes its time,
a story never read becomes unwritten in a furnished home
for a family of ghosts,
as the offering of candles burn brightest at noon.

A nest of tangled, ill-formed words made from a young
cardinal's untrained feathers,
a hammer slamming away at the laughing wind,
as loneliness’ brother never returns,
while a father who labors at his tasks mustn't forget his mother,
or all is lost.
But nothing seem to be seen beyond the flakes of snow
that embrace their descent,
knowing that in the flash of a lifetime
they are light, pure, and born to fly.


Rodrigo G.

Inspiration & Perspiration

"Staying in an upright posture creates the conditions for maintaining
our biopychic apparatus in optimal operating condition."

Ganesh Baba

"Ducking when someone throws a flying
kick to your head also helps maintain
the optimal operating conditions of your
biopychic apparatus, even if it means ducking
backwards on one leg."

Rodrigo G.

Winter's end

The soul of the Lion lies in the heart's crown,

The spirit of the Thunderbird grows from the fire within.

In the instant of birth

the dark silence is pierced,

From the storm's eye

A drop of blood forms

and falls into the swelling pool below.

As the cold of night scatters from the branches

of the slumbering old trees, harmony once again

finds rest on the hollow bones and tender muscles

of discord's feathered frame.

Celestial Mechanica

Where does the balance of the planet's equilibrium arise from?

Mr. Silver would probably say it comes from his But, I'd be inclined to agree
until I find proof of it arising from elsewhere.

Hasta la muerte,

Pes