Monday, November 22, 2010

The Divorce

Twin Towns of the west
Lay your differences to rest
Ox-bow the winding course
That prompted this divorce

Your green river, only cleaves
Into this valley, as it weaves
Down from Mount Pine Ridge
And limbos under Hawksworth Bridge

It does not cleave your brotherhood
Nor does it sever neighbourhood
The river serves to unify
Not, your rapport, to nullify

Your coupled arrogance and pride
Is what has fostered this divide
So, like the river change your course
Your children cannot stomach this divorce

© José V. Guerra Awe

Monday, November 8, 2010

Water’s Edge III: The Coast

As waves sail past the jagged edges of
This headland’s seemingly abyssal cliff
On their journey to the coast
I cannot help but think
How water and earth
Are like fingers intertwined

Solid met by liquid
A striking contrast are the two
And as rock fills the void
Of water’s everlasting hunger
The nature of this Ying and Yang
Unfolds before my very eyes

The very wave that has been
Crashing, deep within my core
Always and forever will be
Transforming and transporting… of Itself
This wave is absolutely… undoubtedly, Me
For I am my own life’s entropy

And the tide that ebbs and flows
That takes and so returns
This collective force
This… brotherhood of waves
Birthed from the same undying fountain
It is… Humanity

For we are all conceived of the same life giving source
Infinitely diverse; but we are All waves
The entropic force of Life
And everything we’ve ever wanted
Everything we’ve ever sought
Always and forever will be… within ourselves

So, Headland turns to Arch
Arch turns to Stack
Stack finds its way back home to sea
Where waves transport it to a distant coast
A new dimension… where in time
Its form will manifest

© José V. Guerra Awe

Death

This is not a story of sorrow
Or one of termination
This is a story about Awakening
About Impermanence and Freedom

Once there lived within
The deepest caverns of
This ever changing shell
A miser clinging to his wealth

A spellbinding sorcerer was he
That with masterful illusions
Deceived me and convinced me
That he was an immortal

“A god amongst men,” claimed he
To serve him was my only purpose
And for Fear of everlasting torment
I yielded to his bidding

My liege rested
On the seventh day
Of a long and arduous week
And I was free to roam

I trekked through hall and alleyway
Of this labyrinthine necropolis
At the end of which I found a ladder
A wooden marvel shining under beam of light

Though I knew I would be penalized
I climbed as fast I could
And as I reached the summit
Found a door labeled “Perception”

I’d step foot into a new dimension
A haven of Impermanence
Where no one had a Self
And all things inter-were


Walking this new countryside
'Twas there I came to know
A Rider on a pale horse
With whom I reconnoitred

Though he never spoke a single word
I heard his every thought
And before I was returned from whence I came
We devised a freedom stratagem

As I’d afore suspected
My absence did not go unnoticed
And with crack of whip and sound of horn
My vengeful despot cast his curse

But I bore armour of Enlightenment
Spear of Inter-Being
Shield of Impermanence
And Helm of Freedom

It is so that I denounced my Self
And challenged his resistance
His clinging to my life…
A wealth that was always mine to live

And I delivered him onto Death
And with the swing of a merciless sword
My Self was brought to judgment
And it is so that I am onto you a free man

Manifested in the present
Unbound by past or future
Free to Inter-Be
Impermanent and Alive

© José V. Guerra Awe

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Yesterday... this ghost, this apparition
An echo in the darkness
A lingering vestige of a past self
An attachment clinging to the present
It is death – the absence of reality

Today... this glorious change
Unequivocal and constant
A powerful and steady heart beat
From which flows the essence of Life
It is reality – unhindered and infinite

Tomorrow... is a curse
A spell that we ingest intravenously
Using heated spoon and hypodermic needle
With it come a ball and chain, and cracking whip
It is birth – a coma we will never wake from

Yesterday is gone and long forgotten
Tomorrow is a supposition
Today is tangible; it’s malleable, and real

Where do you reside?

© José V. Guerra Awe

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Beast

Confined to a cage,
A cell built upon apprehension
Self-loathing and insecurities
Cell engulfed by force field of resistance
And concealed under cloak of fear,
It endures: ageless and immortal

Eyes glaring, never blinking
Its focus: undeterred
Surefooted... restless
It paces, hauntingly, hither and yon
Breathing... deep... steady
Absorbing the miasmal phobia that enslaves it

As its body enters remission
Its mind philosophises
Every fibre of its being mutates
As it delves into the atoms of its impediment
And as beast evolves
The soma dissipates

And while new serum is prepared,
In the interim of applications,
Awareness breeds understanding
Enlightenment melts shackles.
It growls as it gnaws its prison’s walls
Teeth naked, fearless, unencumbered

I can feel its presence in my every thought
I see it in my shadow and in my reflection
Eyes glaring, never blinking, focus undeterred
Breathing... deep... steady
Teeth still naked,
Its heart beat pummelling the walls of my resistance

It yearns for freedom, for transfiguration
And as soma further weakens, comes infusion
Its paws become my hands electrically imbued
Its teeth... my impervious regalia
Its restless feet... my surefooted wanderlust
Its glare... my focus, undeterred



© José V. Guerra Awe

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Scarecrow

Farmers have gone from horses to tractors
They’ve faced all kinds of improbable factors
While the scarecrow waits patiently in yonder field
Waiting to see what the farmland will yield

He’s seen different styles and worn many faces
All that with time the sunlight erases
Empires toppled and castles erected
He’s heard wedding bells ring and seen lovers rejected

Constitutions were written, great inventions invented
Distant planets discovered and world wars prevented
But the scarecrow holds true, diligent in his vigilance
Through the harshest conditions he upholds his stance

A true cosmopolitan, a worldwide sensation
The scarecrow’s a child of about every nation
From 8000 BC to post green revolution
His immortality is anything but retribution

And though his curiosity has forever been masked
A perplexing question for aeons has asked
“If I stand here safeguarding crops of all kinds
Who is the sentry of the food for your minds?”

© José V. Guerra Awe

Thursday, October 7, 2010

War Drums

I want to dance...


I want to stomp my feet
To a swinging Jazz beat
Or a funky Soul flow


I want to sway my hips
To a spicy Salsa
To a Guaguanco


I want to tap my hands
To a feisty Punta
To some Ethnic Grooves


Most of all,
I want my heart to beat
My soul to move
To a thumping drum


I want my thought’s strings to strum
My vocal chords to hum
A symphony...
For peace


Yes... For Peace!!


Peace because...
The drums of war
Are drowning out the lively beat
I mould my life to


Peace because...
The screams of dying innocents
Are louder than the lyrics
To my favourite song


Peace because...
I want to feel the boom of a bass drum
Not the sonic boom
Of a fighter jet


Peace because...
I want to hear the rat-tat-tat
Of a snare drum
Not that of an M16


Peace because...
I want to hear the crash of a mighty cymbal
Not that of broken homes, broken dreams
And broken windows


Peace because...
I want to feel the thud of a thundering beat
Vibrating on my floor
Not that of balled fists against a poor man’s door


Peace because...
I want my subwoofer
To rattle the walls of my house
Not the rumbling engine of a tank


Peace because...
I can’t dance to this new sound
To this new beat


My feet won’t move
And my hips won’t sway
My ears can’t groove to the rhymes they spit
Or the tunes they play


War Drums can’t soothe my soul
And militant political propaganda
Is NOT poetry!!


So...
Give me handshakes
Not hand grenades...


Give me Cupid’s arrows
Not fifty calibre bullets...


Give me love songs
Not battle cries...


Give me ART!!
Not WAR...


© José V. Guerra Awe