act like it matters
live with intention
map out the landscape
choose your direction
there is no blueprint
for these four dimensions
blaze your own pathways
with their limitations
you are an outcome
a determination
a production ongoing
of past information
so act like it matters
and with each generation
reproduce actions
worth veneration.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2021. All rights reserved.
Whatever happens in our story
whether beautiful or gory
let’s just remember this
we were not the first to fight or kiss
there were millions
that came before us
and an infinite number
that might recall us
but for whatever it is worth
we were here
to witness sky and earth
to ponder at the stars and seas
look out to the horizons
and inward on our knees
to sleep, to yearn, to dream, to lose
to love and take in smoke
and blood and booze
our memories collecting
information to pass along
whatever happened in our story,
a note becomes a chord,
that chord is a connection to a song.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2021. All rights reserved.
Half a day,
that’s all that I can take.
A half a day at a time …
and so I wake before
the day breaks like I used to;
stay in sync with life.
,
But just past noon
I must go down,
take a nap to rest –
.
My legs, my back, my broken
parts have ground
themselves against themselves
put my limits to the test.
.
I’ll rise again, if it is meant,
to take on the latter part …
and it is always my intent
to bring all my mind and heart.
.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2021. All rights reserved.
On viewing Mark Laita’s Soft White Underbelly *
.
downtrodden
beaten and forgotten
sons and daughters
in the city of Sodom
.
bread basket
middle of America
black and white
pictures Appalachia
.
footnote
bottom of the statement
we all know
how we make our payments
.
details
where we find our demons
onscreen
s(t)imulate(s) our feelings
.
click next
algorithm will grow surer
we’re safe
since we live in Gomorrah.
.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2021. All rights reserved.
.
* NOTE: I have no affiliation with or even know Mark Laita. To view Mark Laita’s work please visit: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCvcd0FYi58LwyTQP9LITpA
Tomorrow
on the streets
on our ways to getting paid
you in your red hat and khaki pants
me in my hand-knitted pink pussy cap
the tiki torches in your garage
resting at the supplementary angle that
my rainbow banner lays across my flat
And when we cross each other’s paths
you’ll snicker loudly at my mask
which will then muffle, “kiss my ass”
you’ll raise your shirt so I can see
you’ve got a solution for guys like me
and I will let you see that I
am also a 2nd amendment kind of guy …
And now there’s one place we agree.
We’re armed for our liberty;
me from you and you from me.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2020. All rights reserved.
No hay mal que dure cien anos
me decia mi mama
Ni cuerpo que lo sostenga
todo tiene que acabar
Pero hijo no te rindas,
lo que sufres, va pasar.
Siempre carga tu cancion
como arma, pa’ amar.
* Translation
There is no evil/ wrong that lasts a hundred years
my mom used to tell me
Nor a body to withstand it
everything has an end
But son, don’t give up,
what you suffer will happen/ pass.
Always load/ carry your song
As a weapon, to love.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2020. All rights reserved
Adversity came to town,
looked me in the eye.
I blinked; it knocked me down.
I was on my knees,
it kicked me in the jaw;
it cracked my teeth and made me bleed.
It saw my head was bowed.
It struck me again …
and nearly knocked me out.
Adversity grabbed my hair
and held me straight;
struck me hard across my face.
It saw that I was blue and sore.
Swollen lipped, I smiled,
and simply asked for, “more”.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2020. All rights reserved
If there is a God
and you are made
in her image …
then there is nothing
wrong with you.
You are a perfect
aspect of his light,
the infallible pitch
of her voice;
you are
the exact measure
and cut, made from
original stuff.
Don’t let any man
or mob of men,
any book or verse,
or anything disguised
as coming from god
tell you otherwise.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2020. All rights reserved
Lately,
I’ve been coming loose;
untethered.
Spiraling from my orbit,
and heading out
into forever.
How can this be,
. I wonder?
That there
will come an instant
clapping me asunder.
And I will be no more …
Unwhole.
Everything that made me
will remain
But I
I will never be the same.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2019. All rights reserved
Links to the original works below:
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2019. All rights reserved
words with no names 