Expanding on my mother’s favorite saying

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

Chronic Pain

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

COVID Poem 413

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

On Aging

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

Revisiting Watercolors

AI Collage

Using the DeepDream Generator is like having a virtual studio of digital artists at your disposal. My original watercolors are linked below if you care to see what they started out as.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2019. All rights reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On “god”

You believe you have a personal relationship

with your God?

 

Well, so do I.

 

You think he tells you how to live your life?

Well, so does mine.

 

The things your God says are wrong,

my God thinks are fine.

 

The punishments that make your God strong,

would make mine seem less divine.

 

Keep your God where it belongs,

In the temple of your mind.

 

We’ll each get to sing our song

At death; just give it time.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2019. All rights reserved

journal of a man living outside the demographic sweet spot