Best New Mexico Poems
home to cowboy graves
people still worship the news
all the death,a-famed
A sense of the sacred
permeates these grounds
where El Santo Niño de Atocha walks
A sense of the truly holy
infuses the wind in the air,
the leaves in the wind
& that holy wind breathes itself into
You,
the traveler here in search
of a miracle
A soft and single
splash of water kisses your praying hands,
then sparkles down
into the healing, blesséd earth
that gives beneath your resting knees
and you realize
you are in the middle of a shining, gentle rain
Your heart and mind stretch heavenward
and deep into your soul
as you continue your prayer,
kneeling, as you are,
on this holy, sacred land
Then a clean, clear drift
of shimmering, silent snow
brushes your face, your
heart, your mind and soul
with a singular grace and beauty
And you gaze dreamily up in wonder,
with strong and joyful tears
of truth and comprehension
baptizing your uplifted, enraptured face
As you know, and as you feel
throughout your entire being,
that you are healed,
forgiven,
and ever, forever belovéd
A beautifully hidden work of art.
Absolutely stunning from the very start.
Vivid colors of purples and pinks.
Fill the setting skies as it sinks.
Mountains surround the city's pride.
Protecting it from the world outside.
The mountains and skies are the words that tell the story.
The building and cultures are the pictures that hold the glory.
Listen close so you can hear the wind telling the tale.
It will teach you beauty, please dont be stale.
Close your mind and open your heart.
And you'll love it from the start.
By: Cherica Eckiwaudah
A Zuni who prays every day
Saw a cloud in the sky back in May
He yelled, "Do or die!"
Which made the cloud cry
And that's why its still raining today.
Kaolin ceramics shelved for display
A framed mirror suggests a window into time
Fortifications in a continuum surround this fortress
Inside a Southwestern style is secured
Bulldozing nature for architectural delight
Rich in warm tones and textures of stucco
Baroque oval portals lead into substructures
Endearing pine stripped.....stained to perfection
Strategically placed beamed ceilings finesse
Whitewashed antlers hang above a fireplace
Not a hunters home but a setting of one once known
A water well stands with an antique pump
As an unyeilding sun drenches the broken claylike ground
Genuinely revealing a life long past
In Beautiful New Mexico a Southwestern home is found
~This was inspired by Brian….and his Cameo piece~I hadn't used or seen the
word KAOLIN in some time...and it reminded me of the west....hence, I used the
word first and went from there~
I went to the market yesterday,
To buy some needed things;
Coffee and watermelon sorbet,
Pizza and buffalo wings;
Sugar, detergent, and shampoo,
And of course some chicken feed;
Couple of cans of Dinty Moore stew,
I hope that’s all I need!
A Police Officer in blue, received a frantic radio call about a baby in breathing difficulties…
A mere 2 blocks away , he was told of a distressed child, choking and gasping for breath desperately…
Trained for emergencies such as these, the officer rushed over to offer life saving procedures…
Upon arrival at the site of the emergency, he took charge immediately as a well drilled officer..
With super cool efficiency, he swung into action immediately to nullify the choking difficulty…
In no time, he averted a potential tragedy, when the choking boy was saved from his difficulty…
As an officer in blue, he was trained to perform his best, says his supervisor with obvious pride…
Seeing how one of the city finest has again acted promptly in an emergency to save a life…
The word gets around, this officer and his heroics was well lauded and put up in the internet…
Just so netizens far and near, home and abroad, can testify to his heroics of a life saved thro the internet..
So say this unassuming hero in blue, he was a policeman at a time and place well served…
Declaring self depreciatingly, as cliché as it sounds, policemen are there to protect and serve…
Such fitting words that underline the nobility of the service rendered by all those in blue ..
Well done, Sunland Park Police Department , New Mexico and especially Officer Donald Venable … !
Well done!
New Mexico bears the burdens of its once-sleepy past--
when awakened to join the current century at last.
To give birth to the fledgling Atomic Age
It still wears the perfume of fusion and sage.
They must go to the land of fiestas, Indian bread.
Shaken from sleep to design moments of dread.
Muddy roads carried scientists, from land and sea,
to the top of a hill clothed in springtime's majesty.
Where, after a summer's welcome downpour,
bloomed lavender verbena and wild irises galore.
Where sweet-smelling sage and rain-splashed pine
competed for mistress of passions unmined.
Placed in wooden boxes they learned to call home
were unsuspecting families, the secrets unknown.
The wives joined together since numbers are safe;
their children becoming the desert's new waifs.
Some became friends with the Indian maids
who helped to restore sense to the masquerade.
They bought Indian rugs, turquoise stones for their hands;
visited their pueblos, learned about their proud lands.
Many a morning, when water wouldn't flow,
they sat in wonder and watched the town grow.
Soon there were horses to ride up mountainsides.
With friends, life was doable, they could abide.
Then finally, when the blast trembled the Earth,
they understood the conspiracy needed in fission birth.
Some called it a monster, some called it a friend.
At any rate, their journey there would soon end.
Some departed, some stayed on The Hill
still smelling the sage but recalling still.
the sound of the blast sounding thru time,
Smelling sweet pines, watching peace decline.
request a transfer
I'd like to try New Mexico
I'm into the heat and sandy colors
bright blue sky rocks and
heat
I need to bake my bones
and see some new illusions
baked red and brown rocks
miles of distant winding nothing
breaking into mountians
I want that inky black western sky
and the scent of sage under the air
a coyote growling close by
a cactus flower
For lovers fighters and wild bronc riders
heres to the boys from new mexico
we have no trifles
we hang our balls upon the walls and shoot 'em down with rifles
when sex rare we'll rape a bear and sleep in dirty ditches
we'll show them texan boys we're some bad sons of god
The first time that you see her, She will steal your soul away,
And replace it with a being of her own,
Her white sands will glisten, underneath turquoise skies,
And make your heart always long, for New Mexico.
There is magic in her mountains, secrets in her sage,
A special kind of wisdom, that only comes with age.
The music of her canyons, will echo and roll,
And fill your life with desire, for New Mexico.
She'll captivate your spirit, keep it in possession there,
No matter where you are, you smell cedar in the air.
The song she sings you, comes from long ago,
And haunts you with a passion, for New Mexico.
You understand the stillness, of a desert afternoon,
You're enchanted by the beauty, of yucca in bloom,
While you wonder at the colors, transformed by the sun's glow,
Your thoughts are of being, in New Mexico.
Voices of the past, warriors and pioneers,
Urge you with their stories, of laughter and tears.
An unsettled feeling, is all you have to show,
As you roam familiar trails, back to New Mexico.
Some will call her savage, some will call her wild,
In ever fleeting shadows, she remains but a child.
This boldness of character is restless and untamed,
Gentled only by The Power, that takes on many names.
You'll hear her in the night sometimes, when Westward breezes blow,
And to fill that empty feeling, you know you have to go,
For once you hold her in your eyes, nothing else can make you whole,
And you're never really home again, until you're in New Mexico.
hopeless
this
i am sad
tell me why is that so bad
i guess i don't know
no
good words
i did not go to school
i didn't wear clothes
listen to music
or study
feel cool
how do i get into this world
with a ged
and a criminal record
now that
you say i am free
down
i am
why so much
tell me why is everything
so close to the touch
so
far away
stars they say
am i doomed
or dubbed
is this real
tangible
something i can
place in my pocket and steal
i guess happiness
such a simple word
and we all want the same thing
love didn't give me no
stinking diamond ring
it was a cop out
a fix
a second home
too scared to put myself out there
in the unknown
i guess this thing i dream
is too much to bear
so i sleep
and i dream
i display no care
so all i learned
take it as you will
is an ignorant crude
and cruel survival
a mixture of things i've
eavesdropped
and words i thought
i'd known
oh well we all want the same thing
to say
feel the same
i wish and dream
in my sleep
that i can
without aching
without thinking
without shooting up, smoking
boozing, drinking
that calm that peace that sweet release
can i get a little
stinking
ease
please god
oh please
up to my ankles in icy snow
the dogs wresting the shovel
and running away
the hood of my coat is slipping down over my eyes
my gloves are too big
I feel like a cranky cold five year old
who doesn't know enough to go in
snow after snow I'm sick of this
when's the next bus to New Mexico?
Ojo Caliente
Call on John to
submerse me in the
Holy waters of the
Ojo Caliente
Cleanse me deep
In the high desert heat
Hidden in New Mexico
Where the ancients came to
breathe new life from beneath
the clear clean springs of life
I am weary of the journey
I am weak from wont
I hunger for the feast of thought
And thirst for the first of
The newness of things yet
To come
Drench me in rejuvenating
Imaginings
Give me flight
And second sight
Call on John to submerse me
Whose voice
Beckoned Christ
David J Walker
On The Payroll of Hillburn City New Mexico
David J Walker
Imagine
That such a lonely city
Ever existed
Placed in the middle
of two nowhere
Not worth mentioning
A single building
The gathering spot for
Farmers wives far too
Busy to drive
to either of
the distant small towns for
Coffee,
Cigarettes
Milk and bread
Old cold cuts
Maybe out of date
And the daily mail
In your post office box
In the back
The newspaper from Lubbock
In the rack
Came yesterday and was
A day late at that
Not that it matters
In a jurisdiction
Where you must
pump your own gas
and then ask
about the latest gossip
from the Constable,
Mayor, & Postmaster, and
The only
And lonely
Working citizen on the Payroll
of Hillburn City