Best Brazos Poems
Cantas en mi Corazon
Una Colaboración con Michael P. Clarke
Spanish Version - Free Verse
Ven en mis brazos, tu templo tan cerca de mí,
Estoy perdido en tus ojos, la gloria del amor ahora veo.
Escucho la canción de tu corazón mientras estamos en el abrazo del amor,
Cuando en tu abrazo, sé que comparto la gracia de un ángel.
Ahora mi amado, yo saboreo tu glorioso amor,
Tus labios se encuentran con los míos mientras estamos en el Cielo.
Baila conmigo mi amor, de las estrellas de Dios no nos separaremos,
La canción del amor es la canción que canta en mi corazón.
Mi querido, en tus brazos amorosos estoy libre
para florecer como la rosa preciosa que yo estaba destinada a ser.
Un mago del amor, sabes cómo encender mi corazón,
el sabor de tus labios me revuelve con un deseo primitivo.
Amor de mi vida, eres mi única gran pasión,
anhelo tus abrazos porque eres mi adicción divina.
Contigo bailaré entre las estrellas y nunca nos separaremos,
la canción de nuestro amor es la canción que canta en mi corazón.
Sing In My Heart
A Collaboration by Pandita Sanchez & Michael P Clarke
English Version - Rhyme
Come into my arms, your temple so close to me,
I am lost in your eyes, love's glory I now see.
I hear your heart's song as we stand in love's embrace,
when in your embrace,I know I share an angel's grace.
Now my beloved, I do taste your glorious love,
your lips meet mine, as we stand in Heaven above.
Dance with me my love, from God's stars we shall not part,
the song of love is the song I sing in my heart.
My darling, in your loving arms I am free,
to flourish as the precious rose I was meant to be.
A magician of love, you set my heart on fire,
the taste of your lips stirs me with primeval desire.
Love of my life, you are my one great passion,
I crave your embrace for you are my divine addiction.
With you I will dance among the stars and we will never part,
the song of our love is the song that sings in my heart.
06-10-2017
Note: Mike wrote the 1st stanzas in both versions, while I wrote the 2nd stanzas in both versions.
Thank you my friend, Mike for inviting me to collaborate with you on this special piece and for inspiring me with your wonderful spirit and words!
Reverberación de tela
Extiende tus ideas
Hasta el desayuno
Y de vuelta
Para quien mira con cuidado
La moneda se transparenta
Un pulso familiar
Tonadas de un botón pentagonal
Continuas espirales de papel
Antes caracoles sobre el mantel
Mañana más máscaras con maíz
A fin de cuentas, la misma raíz
Odiseas en cuchara de paja
Las cortinas cambian
Siempre en la misma ventana
Antigua marea de plata
Moderno cuaderno cuadriculado
Entre sus poros asoman los gansos
Producción de órbitas en masa
Diversas escalas
Extensas hileras de universos
Réplicas de un único cerezo
Aquel que aprendió
A extender sus brazos
Y entrelazar los dedos
Los parques son continuos
Se muere con la nota de inicio
Campanada cubista
Supresión evolutiva
Siguiente parada
Extensos campos de sombrillas
Aveces pienso en tu sonrisa
Bajo las nubes me pongo a suspirar
Mas las estrellas claman tu nombre
En tus brazos como quisiera estar
Mis lagrimas son como la lluvia
Tu memoria canta en mi corazon
Y en lo mas alto del cielo esta tu cara
Tu memoria hoy es mi vida
my heroes have alway's been cowboys
so giddyup go
my ghost riders in the sky
let that whiskey river
flow through luckenback texas
for I'm a rhinestone cowboy
the gambler
running bear
just a coca cola cowboy
headed for El Paso
strumming my teddy bear song
cross the brazos at wacco
at the 'Y' all come back saloon
just waiting for Poncho and Lefty
bringing that white lightning
wild horses and that burning ring of fire
stays gentle on my mind
for all my rowdy friends have settled down
And it wasn't God who made honkey tonk angels
it was the daydreams about night things
So mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
For I'll go to my grave lovin you
Tribute To Country's Best
The Lonesome Cowboy
Also Trying a new gig lol
Caminaba sola por la orilla del mar,
Ola tras ola veía como mi pensar navegaba.
Tu sonrisa imprimida en mi mente,
Tus palabras siendo repetidas.
De la nada de reojo tu reflejo mire.
Con emoción volteo para sorprenderme.
Y vaya que sorpresa.
Quede hechizada con tu belleza.
Los colores vividos del atardecer simbolizaban mi alegría,
Resplandeciendo hasta terminar el día.
Caminamos, platicamos y nuevamente
Otra vez nos enamoramos.
Se hacía tarde y a despedirme iba.
Cuando a abrazarte me gire,
En el suelo termine.
Fue ahí, con almohada en brazos
Que supe que anoche te soñé.
-Volcán Inactivo
FREEPORT RHAPSODY…
(Apropos A Visit Home )
Tired shrimp boats sit moored
along the muddy banks of the Brazos;
their day’s catch iced down and waiting.
Tormenting mosquitoes flew
from puddles of water
pooled between blades of salt grass,
feasting on the fresh blood
of buzzed home comers.
The aroma of seafood gumbo pots
saturated the salt water air; and the clinking
bottle caps signaled the gathering of keno players.
Olympian domino players slap their table tops
with rhythms that rival the best of Art Blakely’s
drumming on a full moon Afro Night.
Teams of bid whist players
played musical chairs.
Over chattering voices, echoes of howling dogs
faded into canine whimpers
as Gulf Coast breeze blew sweet memories:
Indeed there’s no place
like home.
Baila, baila,
querida, tu corazón baila,
tu pelo baila,
tus ojos bailan,
y yo, cerca de ti,
yo te tengo en mis brazos,
querida,
con tu olor de naranjas y miel.
La música es nuestra,
baila, baila,
el rítmo nos lleva
con sus brazos de amor y del tango.
¡Qué viva Carlos Gardel,
con su canto sonoro,
con los bandonios de locura y sueños!
Señales de alegría,
señales de musica vivante.
La noches del tango nos hacen volar,
como pájaros sin destino,
volando con un rítmo salvaje,
corazón del diaboblo nocturno,
nuestros cuerpos aman la música,
estrellas del corázon,
tango de deseos,
anhelos nocturnos,
un rítmo conocido
entre amantes.
Noche de tango,
noche de corazónes,
deja volar nuestro amor
con alas suaves de alegría.
El tango es nuestro,
baila, corazón, baila.
Deja las noches vibrar,
bailando,
cantando
con la locura del tango.
--------------------------------------------
Dance, dance,
my love,
your heart is dancing,
your hair is dancing,
your eyes are dancing,
and I,
so close,
holding you in my arms,
my love,
with your odor of oranges and honey.
The music is ours,
dance, dance,
Rhythm leads us
with its arms of love and the tango.
Long live Carlos Gardel,
with his sonorous songs,
with the bandeon od madness and dreams!
Signals of joy,
signal of living music.
The nights of the tango make us fly,
like birds without a destiny,
flying with turbulent beat,
heart of the night's devil,
our bodies love the music,
stars of the heart,
tango of desire,
nightly wishes,
well known rhythm
between lovers..
Nights of the tango,
nights of hearts,
let our love fly
with the soft wings of joy.
The tango is ours,
dance, my heart, dance.
Let the night tremble,
with the madness of the tango.
Cierro los ojos y los abro otra vez
Ahí, ahí esta mi Castillo.
Como en los cuentos de hadas,
Quiero ser Julieta pero me siento como Dulcinea.
Las cimas de las montañas están tan lejos,
El paisaje bello en verdes y grises
Pero mi castillo, mi sueño…
El castillo de Dulcinea…
La bruma que baila ante de mis ojos,
El sol que está escondido, que no muestra su luz.
Siento la brisa, la humidad del viento, la humidad de mi ser.
La división de esa bruma tan espesa.
Los colores, las mariposas, las alas de libertad,
El calor de sentir esas alas acariciarme
Pero mi castillo, mi sueño…
El castillo de Dulcinea…
Necesito la verdad de los enlaces,
El sol, el horizonte, las nubes, las montañas, la unión.
Siento los enlaces de las manos, de los brazos,
Del corazón y del cuerpo.
Cierro los ojos y los abro otra vez
A ver si aceptas a Dulcinea?
Mi castillo, mi sueño…
El castillo de Dulcinea…
Para mi Estudiante
Si por mí fuera
En mis brazos lo trajera
Para que siempre
Amado se sintiera
No es egoísmo
Respetar a un ser querido
No es hipocresía
Decirle que mi cariño tenía
Lo voy a extrañar
Cuando a mi salón entrar
¿Sabe lo que yo sentía?
El amar como una madre quería
No falle en aplicarse
Siempre trate de esforzarse
Ponga sus estudios primero
Y siempre sea sincero
Y antes de retirarse
Le pido que deje respetarse
Y siga con ambición
Siempre la educación
Cariñosamente
Mrs. María Elena Enríquez
Maestra de Español
Ranchland Hills Middle School 08/09
Sage Saga Of A Home On A Hill
Having drank from the sun at meridian,
The moon drunk with the light
Of reflection, always dissipated dreaded darkness
Seeking to veil the Hill—Raised bump
Of nature’s glowing face;
This swollen womb of nature nourishing beginnings
Of generations plodding centuries wounded
With trials and tribulations—Grand Canyon invisible walls
Mocking the abyss of Middle Passage ocean depths
Carpeted with ivory bone trees rattled by circadian waves
Splashing stilled sandy sea shore stones sunken in time.
Beginnings begin with the eruption of sunlight;
Rays flowing lava-like to chloroplast genes
Of generations of quantum leaping Greens
Synthesizing seminal spirits spewing
Audacious faith—audacious faith blooming
Mushroom cloud determination rising
As a risen national family tree;
Branches thrusting tentacles forever upward.
Streaming through, flows a river Brazos
Whose residents often crawled, netted and hooked
Their way to the Hill—accepting all aching
To give or receive freely—nourishment.
A gumbo gathering of love supreme;
Charged sable soul soars—sailing
Pillow puffed verandah skies;
Stoking old horizons—searching
Mountain top promise land dreams.
Where I have been I have just begun to go;
Returning to the beginning—
To tap the toasted roots anchoring the journey’s
Design—etched beneath the shade of limbs
Of an ancient Chinaberry tree
Looking out over the Hill—
Shadowing shelled street that oysters built.
The senior poem now resonate an ebony perspective:
“…It’s sweet to dream of Venice…It’s great to think of Rome…
But when it comes to living…There’s no place like home…
So it’s home again and home again for me…”
My Hill—My home…My family tree. Here I grew; here I be.
Lyrics to:
The Texas Poet Two Step
There won't be no Sun out on the Brazos
There won't be no rain in Abilene
I won't write a poem for Tom's contest
And Margaret Reid won't get a check from me
I'm tired of my poems lining trash cans
And see'in my money go to waste
And when that winners 'Click', has their party
It's like throw'in a can of 'Loser' in my face
chorus
Yes, I thought about the contest
I thought that I could win
But then, reality started sett'in in
I know I'd write with passion
Eloquence and grace
But in the end , I won't even place
So, I know what I'll do with all that money
I'll hold it in My hand and keep it near
And the day they claim to have their Contest Drawing
I'm buying sixteen dollars worth of beer.
chorus
Yes, I thought about the contest
I thought that I could win
But then, reality started sett'in in
I know I'd write with passion
Eloquence and grace
But in the end , I won't even place
Heeyah
Sage Saga Of A Home On A Hill
Having drank from the sun at meridian,
The moon drunk with the light
Of reflection, always dissipated dreaded darkness
Seeking to veil the Hill—Raised bump
Of nature’s glowing face;
This swollen womb of nature nourishing beginnings
Of generations plodding centuries wounded
With trials and tribulations—Grand Canyon invisible walls
Mocking the abyss of Middle Passage ocean depths
Carpeted with ivory bone trees rattled by circadian waves
Splashing stilled sandy sea shore stones sunken in time.
Beginnings begin with the eruption of sunlight;
Rays flowing lava-like to chloroplast genes
Of generations of quantum leaping Greens
Synthesizing seminal spirits spewing
Audacious faith—audacious faith blooming
Mushroom cloud determination rising
As a risen national family tree;
Branches thrusting tentacles forever upward.
Streaming through, flows a river Brazos
Whose residents often crawled, netted and hooked
Their way to the Hill—accepting all aching
To give or receive freely—nourishment.
A gumbo gathering of love supreme;
Charged sable soul soars—sailing
Pillow puffed verandah skies;
Stoking old horizons—searching
Mountain top promise land dreams.
Where I have been I have just begun to go;
Returning to the beginning—
To tap the toasted roots anchoring the journey’s
Design—etched beneath the shade of limbs
Of an ancient Chinaberry tree
Looking out over the Hill—
Shadowing shelled street that oysters built.
The senior poem now resonate an ebony perspective:
“…It’s sweet to dream of Venice…It’s great to think of Rome…
But when it comes to living…There’s no place like home…
So it’s home again and home again for me…”
My Hill—My home…My family tree. Here I grew; here I be.
There were Indians just over the Brazos
With a buffalo herd in between
They weren’t trying to stay hidden
They wanted to be seen
The chief of these Comanche
Buffalo Hump by name
They say no one's looked him in the eyes
Was ever quite the same
The COL said go parlay
Invite the chief to sup
I want to look him in the eye
And determine just what’s up
With our white sheet fluttering in the wind
Like the scalps on the big Chief’s lance
We started out across the plain
Taking quite a chance
Our crooked-tooth Pawnee scout
Led the way through the herd
Through the smell of a thousand animals
And the sound that would drown each word
I felt and smelled their hot breath
As I rode my pony near
I turned my pony into the throng
A pathway none too clear
Inching through the buffalo
Blinded by the dust
I held on fast to the reins
Just riding my pony's trust
Once through the thundering buffalo
I glanced up to the rise
The Indians still were waiting there
Much to my surprise
The Pawnee scout then turned to us
Said if they should attack
First take out the big chief
Then that little one in the back
I can understand the big chief
But why the little guy
He said he’s like a badger
He’ll fight until he dies
He said that one's a horse thief
The best you'll ever find
He'll snatch a horse from under you
As if you had gone blind
The big chief started towards us
Shut up the Pawnee said
You young boys keep your damn traps shut
I’ll do the talking instead
The Comanche’s body shone with grease
Had a necklace made of claws
He had a stench about him
That made you gag and pause
My eyes met the chief’s eyes
My hand rested on my gun
He had a look could kill a soul
But I was too scared to run
The Pawnee and Comanche
Spoke in some foreign tongue
I vowed to learn their language
While I was still young
Then all at once the chief turned
And rode on up the hill
Our Pawnee scout turned back for camp
But I just sat there still
For he had pointed at me
With that scalp encrusted lance
And said he’d have MY scalp one day
If he ever got the chance
For last week on the Brazos
Someone had killed his son
And looking me right in the eye
He knew I was the one
Mdailey 2/26/12
1st place finish in contest
For PD’s contest dare. Chapter 11 of Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry. It has been years since I read a western but am finding this one interesting.
Señor Che, ¿duerme?
No, Paco. Pero dime que pasa
O, Dios... Nada!
Pasa que pasa, compañero. Habla!
Cuenta el dolor que cada
El dia pasada lo pone en las noches
Habla...
Señor, tengo un sueño en mi almohada
Pero un sueño tan estraño
Porque mi almohada
Es llena con el cuarzo
De la arena fina
De Orthents de Sierra Nevada
Vamos a comer nuestras bocas
Vamos a beber el agua de las estrellas
Vamos a mendigar en la Vía Láctea
Vamos a dormir por siempre
Da igual
Tuve un sueño estraño
Ya no lo se si es de buena suerte
U mal
Cry, baby, cry
For both of us know the reason why
Cry, baby, cry
Cause I'm coming
Oh, yes, I'm coming
I'm coming to you
I'll be back home tonight
No hay ni mar ni rio
No hay ningun océano
No hay nada de nada
Solo la arena en mi almohada
Mi padron, por favor, reza al Dios
Pasa que pasa, pero, amigos mios,
Tenenemos que cambiar
Nuesto camino. Este lugar nos ofrece nada
Y ademas, mira el cielo, gran hermano del mar
Los ambos dicen: Vaya con Dios, Paco!
Este mundo no mererce
Ni tu sueño ni tu sangre
Aquí o allí no hay nada mas para luchar
Llora, mi amor, llora
Moja con tus lágrimas la tierra
Un mar ya va a nascer
Entre mi desierto y nuestro lugar
Llora, mi amor, llora...
Esta noche llego en tus brazos
Y nunca mas no vas a llorar
Esta mañana vi tu llamada perdida
y mi corazón que te llamara me exigía
tomé el teléfono y quize marcarte pero sabia
que en los brazos de otro tu dormias
procedí a soltar el teléfono y las cosas meditar
porque me llama si conmigo no quiere estar
sera posible que realmente me pueda amar
o es solo mi imaginación que de mi se vino a burlar
pensé en todas las posibilidades y llegué a la conclusión
que cuando existe el amor entonces existe acción
y al caer el alba sobre mi cama entré en oración
Padre cuida de ella te lo pido de todo corazón
Es posible que ella nunca entienda la magnitud de mi dolor
un dolor que surguió de un imenso y puro amor
pero no es tiempo de lamentarse sino de llenarse de valor
solo les pido que respeten mi privacidad por favor.