Bolivar and San Martin: Guayaquil, Ecuador

Wednesday, October 31, 2007


Word after word I cultivate the line,
Until each phrase can seemingly express
the very colors of these thoughts of mine,
It must be true, but also finely dressed.
It won't suffice to say that I am sad,
Or that I'm happy, no that will not do,
The rhythm of the line must show I'm glad
Or else, in contrast, paint with darkest blue.
Swift song that speeds in haste across the page,
Slow song, winding, crawling upon the earth,
Each has its place in this and every age
For all have songs of sadness and of mirth.
Words are our gifts, the spark-spray of the soul,
Through them the worth of man we may extol.

Monday, October 29, 2007


We called her "Esperanza"
In Spanish class
all those years ago.
Bright-eyed Esperanza
whose face seemed locked
in perpetual smile.
Smiling Esperanza who talked
of nothing but happiness and hope.

Now the face she wears
Belies her age: too much weariness,
Too much grief.
She's far too young to be framed in bar-haze,
Cutting through smoke
and unfamiliar faces
to bring people their cocktails
and a perfunctory smile.

She passes me a third time,
It's clear she does not recognize me,
Gregorio, as I was called.
Gregorio who watched her so lovingly
All those years ago.

Perhaps she does see something
in my eyes as our gazes meet,
But she cannot delve into the past,
back into times when her blue eyes
Scintillated with happiness and hope.
Alas, dear Esperanza,
how quickly the young heart grows old.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Tormenta de vida

Tormenta parecías,
Tus palabras agregándose como
Nubes amenazadores.
Tus ojos: destellando relámpago,
Electrificando e iluminando
El cielo gris de mi vida.
Tu boca: el estuche del trueno,
Sus palabras clavando
Mi pensamiento y mi silencio
Con sonidos poderosos y espontáneos.


Sleep comes
with eyes quickly closing,
Windows opening
to the wider world within.

dreaming of words
that cut the air
as you spoke them,
unfiltered as they rose
from the soul to the lips...

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

C.S. Lewis

I am about to read "What's So Great About Christianity" by Dinesh D'Souza, which is anticipated to be the finest work of Christian apology since C.S. Lewis' "Mere Christianity". At last we have a scholarly text to combat the recent onslaught of atheists like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens (author's note: Mr. Hitchens is an intelligent, well spoken man, however I feel his idea that "religion poisons everything" is both misguided and dangerous. Anyhow, in honor of the erudite and faithful work of C.S. Lewis, I am choosing my favorite quote of his to post here:

"I believe in Christianity like I believe in the sun: not because I see it, but because by it I see all things."

Monday, October 22, 2007

Hollow Discourse

An entire month
of shame and heartache
Spills slowly onto
open palms.

She speaks as though
the remedy for this is sorrow,
as if tears could somehow bring color
to my disparate shades of gray.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

To S-

I've penned a thousand lines, and still my pen
Could never trace the pain that you must feel.
The silence strong, your heartbreak so unreal,
Such is the gift and curse of mortal men.

We love til sadness calls on us again,
A moment here or there our hearts might steal.
But broken hearts will make our bodies kneel,
What comfort will assuage our sorrow then?

I wish that I had more for you than this,
Or that each penstroke could erase your pain,
I'd write until once more you found your bliss.

We love, and lose, but never love in vain,
Recall true love, hold close true love's first kiss,
Its power helps the wounded heart sustain.