Poetic Doses: Pinto Series

Peek-a-boo

Mornings used to open

A flutter of nervous excitement;

She used to watch

And wait;

But they all passed her by

Barely a glance;

Once or twice

Someone stopped;

But only for a heartbeat

Never a lifetime;

She stood against the white

Hands over her face;

She grew paler

More invisible by the day;

Then

There he was;

She counted

One, two, three ... ;

She breathed

Peered through her fingers:

"What are you doing?"

He said;

"Watching you 

watching me";

He smiled

So did she.

(Art:  Borlongan)

(Art:  Stephanie Lopez)

Oblivious

(When I first saw this sculpture, I thought it was the man who was oblivious.  But, as I looked closer at the detail, I noticed that the man's hand was upon his open chest - which was difficult to capture due to the glare.)

She walks as though willing herself to be invisible;

And yet she carries the sun in her smile.

(My heart is heavy;

How could this be, when this is happy news?)

Her touch soothes and her voice calms;

Nothing can faze me, when she is by my side.

(There he is; My heart lifts 

and crumbles in a single moment)

Nothing, until ...

She waves proudly the diamond upon her finger.

(Life waits for no one;

So stop waiting)

She carries the sun in her smile;

Her touch soothes and her voice calms;

And I

I never told her

(Steady now, my unsettled nerves;

Love, afterall, is letting go)

I breathe her in, one last time; Holding on to her, 

I smile, as my world falls apart.

(Yet I melt into his oblivious embrace;

Just one more moment; for one last time).

(Art:  Mark Justiniani)

Some people just feel like home;

Those people with whom

Time & Distance are of no consequence.

Whole, yet caged;

Or disintegrating, but free?

Sometimes

To be truly whole

Is to fade into everything.

(Steel art from Pinto Art Museum)

(Art from Pinto Art Museum)

Tell The Children

Tell the children of clear blue skies;

of cloud art, sometimes wispy, sometimes cottony;

Tell the children of  playful rain,

and the joy of dancing in it with friends;

Tell the children of  the grand mountains,

their quiet and steadfast strength;

Tell the children of the army of trees,

and their fight to keep us breathing;

Tell the children of the temperamental seas,

that, nevertheless, give so generously;

And tell the children of Noah's animals,

big or small, gentle or fearsome, all part of the circle of life.

But, most of all,

Tell the children of Men;

of their capacity 

to give and take,

to build and destroy,

to love, to hate or be indifferent.

Tell the children who they are:

The heirs of this world;

Tell them of their power

and the urgency

to protect their only heritage

NOW.