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Tiger logic

Excuse me,

I’m a tiger

says my youngest son

crossing the kitchen.

 

He knows enough

to crouch low

and settles down

safely sitting behind

the breakfast table.

 

I flip the pancakes

as the bubbles pop

silently through the

hot batter sprinkled

with cinnamon that

fills the morning air.

 

Excuse me,

once again,

says the tiger,

but as you know

if you keep turning

your back to me

I will have to attack

because that’s

what tigers do.

 

I crack eggs

into a black skillet

and warn my son

that it’s dangerous

to fool around

when there are hot

things on the stove

and besides tigers

are afraid of fire.

 

He reminds me

that we have an

electric range that

makes heat but no

fire and besides

he wouldn’t have

to attack if breakfast

had been ready earlier.

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

H.A.L. in 2012

hal for president

 Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

In one day two icons are gone

I tell my son – the king of pop

and the queen of the pinup.

 

We stop for gas and I talk

to a lady filling up and

almost make her cry by reminding

her of song titles and

the single sequined glove.

 

I give her my copy of a “Best of” CD

I have in my car and tell her to play

#5 on her way home.

 

I promise her it will become her favorite

song from when he was really little

and beat James Brown at being James Brown –

before the moonwalk or the fun house mirrors –

when his voice was full of the same

fear and hunger that we all feel

in being little and wanting desperately

to understand love.

 

As we drive away my son asks me why I spoke

to a stranger and why I’d give her my disc.

I tell him I can get a copy later, but that the lady

really needed to hear a good thing from her past

and that I’d show him my Farrah poster later.

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

 

After Father’s Day

I helped my sons

a few weeks ago

make a card with

flowers cut from

colorful construction

paper and peppered

with pictures of

them being cute

as babies can be.

 

Today is supposed

to be my day

and I expect to

be doing many

more things to

show them how to

be good boys and

maybe great men.

 

There is no sunshine

again but the rain

has taken a break

when we go out

my boys and me

and start blowing

bubbles that last a

mighty long time.

 

We laugh when

they burst and marvel

at how big some get.

The little one likes

the dancing colors

on the skins,

the older one loves

splitting them in half.

 

A few bubbles dare

to land on the evergreens

that border our

house and stay long

enough for us to take

pictures that will

make great Christmas

cards this year.

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

abstract sketch 617

sketch617

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

Café Terrace Copy

cafecopy

Inspired (and frustrated) by van Gogh’s Cafe Terrace on the place du forum, Arles at night. Acrylic on paper. Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

alien map

squares2

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

the news

the news is used

to shape the views

of those who try

to stay in tune

 

by turning to

their favorite

stations

for their bits

of information

 

every shot and word

that’s spewed

is glue renewed

for building nations.

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

 

Blu boy

blu boy

Guest artist Gabriel Toromoreno’s, Blu Boy …. acrylic on paper.

Copyright © gabriel toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

the gods in hiding

at the parade

of angels held at

an undisclosed location

deep inside

a bunker far from hell

and heaven every

winged creation that had

manifested itself in dream

or imagination arrived

to testify before the court

of lords on the

state of our affairs

here on earth

and as each word

spilled from their

mouths like water

covering fields extending

to the horizons

in every known direction

the hunger that the

stories told of our

desires to understand

the plans of those

who organized the

whole event from

every point and line

that was attended to

had broken down

and drowned us in

such confusion that

there was very little

hope the secret

meeting place would

remain the same and

undetected too much longer.

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

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