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Posts Tagged ‘love poetry’

the greens and blues,

 

with mes and yous

 

these things are true …

 

the wheres, the whose,

 

the whats, left clues;

 

time can’t undo,

 

what’s laid, what grew.

 

the dusks, the dews,

 

the lights, the hues.

 

the sun, the moon,

 

with you seemed new.

 

the songs, the tunes,

 

the ocean’s bloom …

 

let’s both escape

 

on this balloon.

 

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2014. All rights reserved.

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for Gabriel, who is fourteen

.

Wrestling with you, nowadays,

both in spirit and in form,

reminds me how much you’ve grown.

When I brace myself,

my arms around you,

trying to hold you,

I can feel you breaking free.

I don’t know how much is me,

getting older and what is you,

growing stronger;

but it makes me think of Jacob

and the angel, in the end,

wishing the night could

be just an hour longer.

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we are all Sisyphus

   with our own boulders

.

         you my love

      are Sisyphus as mother

   as teacher

as humbled crumbled

      daughter …

.

      rolling your bones

   like a lover

longing for a cliff

.

         when we are lost

      or tired, you know …

.

         there are times we

      must stop to rest

   when we let the rock go

hurling along and we

      bend low to wash

.

      to bow our heads

for a moment

.

         to take measure

      of our course and recall

   that we have been

here before

.

but everything is different

      it is not the same river now

            the land has changed

         we are tired

      in different places

         having seen things

            from the valleys

         having stood at times

      near the top

..

our rest is

sometimes broken

when the rock

comes

rolling

back.

.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2011. All rights reserved.

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hermano, amigo

               I don’t gots nothing more

                    but words for you …

an open invitation

   like the blanket I hung

    as a door when we lived

side by side, all the places

          where we were young together

 .

even these things are leaving

               us now,

          that we don’t talk,

                    that you can’t call

     to say “I love you too”

               now that I’m just another

          Facebook friend or bit I.M.

 .

Te acuerdas,

               remember how we met?

          ¿como todo paso?

how by accident your mother

               bought the house across the street

          from ours? How twelve years

               earlier we had both surprised

          our fathers and bent their tomorrows.

 .

¿Que cosas, no?

 .

that so much had to go,

               had to break a certain way

to find us playing tag in

               the summertime, dodging

between cars or playing kick the can

              and waiting for the street lights

to turn on.

 .

Te acuerdas como nos conocimos?

 .

                    You doing your imitation of John

              Travolta from Saturday Night Fever

                 and singing the Bee Gees’

                    “Staying Alive”

                   to mock whoever the hell was “it”

                … except me …

         we were already running as a team

        Ploying silently to keep the

                rest at bay, pushing to be better

               than each other because no one

            wanted to be Robin, because

          we both felt absolutely golden,

      whenever we were together,

          you were Larry and I was Magic

              even though our skin said

                   we had it backwards

                      … we knew better

 .

Ya tu sabes!

 .

So here’s a list that only

          you will understand with your

decoder ring and secret index

        of punchlines and memories

Pink Champale and Greased Lightning,

     Lower Grant and their mutant bigs,

Hershey Park spinning on its side,

     Reggie, the bleachers and spaghetti,

Willie on the train and the fucking fractions,

     Missions to van Sicilen, Crescent or Norwood

The middle of winter and a rat’s nest,

     Pitufas and soft shelled crabs,

The Dominican outback needing dancers,

     Fernando in the ambulance,

Shoeless football, stir fry and home grown,

     Seafood Mamajuanas, Billy Joel and

about a million other words I could

     string together to hang around our necks

like totems signifying we know

     exactly what they meant.

But we don’t.

We have our own stories, no?

          Even if we shared that

glory time so long ago, all things

          can gather enough dust

to be covered in the end.

Te acuerdo, te amo, te extraño.

.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2011. All rights reserved.

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es lo que es

las noticias de la vida

todo cambia pero

quedan las heridas

y yo que fui

tan perdido por aquí

me encontraré

la paz sin ser

cometido ha mentiras

.

(musical interlude … lots of horns)

.

Y es lo que es

la vida por noticias

nada cambia pero

quedan injusticias

y yo que fui

educado por aquí

me encontraré

razon sin ser

cometido ha malicias

.

 (repeat music … end with horns and cymbals)

 .

* dijo el angel caído 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2011. All rights reserved.

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So, I’m not good enough?

     I don’t match up?

I know it’s the superheroes

     that you love so much.

They’re such tough hombres,

     even though you say

it’s not the muscles but

     the strut;

the way they command a room

     when they enter,

the quick reflexes

     the poise in dangerous situations

how they give as good as they get

     the way they defend your honor

and good name

     in their tight rayon/ lycra blend suits

with their superhero signs

     emblazoned on their chests.

But what of me?

    I’m the one with a real job.

The sensitive male

     friend who happens

to be a good listener.

     Who awakens early

to shower and shave

     to stand & pay

for an overpriced latte

     never late to a meeting or a date –

that makes me invisible?

     (wouldn’t just one superpower be great?)

So what if I get nervous

     in front of cute girls like you

that’s no reason to ignore me.

     I’ve got excellent qualities –

               I won’t wait ‘til the last moment to take action,

               I won’t disappear when you turn to thank me,

               I won’t wear the same outfit to various functions,

               I won’t hide behind a mask or cape,

Or lead a secret double life

where loving you is less important than saving the day.

.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2010. All rights reserved.

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for KBT (and you know who you be) 

.

You’re not too sure at all  / / anymore

      if there are angels  /   /  or an afterlife  worth dying for

        you’ve crucified   /     /  the yesterdays of your life

by chasing fantasies/      /   and choosing to trade for a lie.

It wasn’t destiny    /       /     the ways you chose

                               \        \   to break and be

the road you found /       / to walk away

                              /       /  from your memories.

         And though  \       \   no one knows  

                          /        /    how many holes

                          \          \    your heart may hold

       it isn’t fair  /            /  to take those you promised to protect

                       /                /  in some misdirected step

       with you.  \                   \

.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2010. All rights reserved.

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