Long Mesquite Poems
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I said, “Don't fall in love,” the day we met;
“I travel light upon the open road.
My scruff and scrawl has long ago been set,
don't somehow have the dream that I have changed.”
It's clear that you were deaf to all I said,
that somewhere in your mind I would amend
my habits that were long since set in stone
and live at last within the picket fence.
I told you I would never stay for long,
that desert shimmers on the interstate
were siren lures that played upon my heart
and I would follow them until what ceased
was poetry that called me further west
and played within my ears like dulcet tones
of desert grass and breezes in mesquite,
of yuccas standing tall and far apart,
until the asphalt and cement converged
and could no longer journey to an end,
and if I could not swim across the sea
I'd drop my pack and plant myself for good
for there was nowhere left to go. Til then
I will avail myself of vacant streets
that lumber long into the fervent night.
I'll walk or thumb a ride until I'm done.
Now I must go and have to say good-bye.
I'm sorry for your tears, but you did know
that I would leave one day. Now dry your eyes
and let us kiss but sweetly as I go.
Be glad I'll be fulfilled upon my way
and welcome any blessings when they show.
Food and drink will come as it is offered;
I'll take it gladly, and not ask for more.
I wish the best and more to come to you.
You must conceive we're beings of a kind:
you're set in your own ways as I'm in mine,
but trees prosper best where they are planted.
Narcotic gusts of wilderness come strong.
If I now not abide them I will die.
I cannot tarry longer, I must flee
to walk with whispers to the far beyond.
3rd Place
Travelling Light Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
9/23/17
MIRAGE OF CLARITY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the side view mirror of the U-Haul,
my familiar world slips away,
the verdant green hills of North Texas,
lush and breathing,
their whispers fading into dust.
We roll into the heart of the Permian Basin,
the lushness surrendering to the parched expanse.
Flat is the land—yellow, ochre and brown;
the sagebrush and mesquite, stoic in their resilience,
pay homage to the sun's relentless gaze.
Late afternoon, the Chihuahuan Desert unfolds,
the earth here wearing its scars like a badge of survival.
The vast expanse of dusty solitude lay before us,
the heat wrapping around us like a heavy coat
where the roads led to nowhere in particular.
Dusk arrives, and the sun, a fiery, molten orb,
sinks into the embrace of night.
I wonder in this desolate land if I’ll find beauty,
if the road ahead holds new hills to climb,
or merely more miles of flat, aching unfamiliar stillness.
Morning arrives with a hush,
the sun blinding me—a sudden flash of brilliance.
Shielding my gaze, I look far off into the distance.
The aridity somehow frees the light
unleashing the desert’s grandeur.
The sky is a gorgeous, intense blue color,
the sand dunes taking on sunlight and pulse.
Though the earth here isn’t cloaked in forest,
nor draped in pastoral, peaceful green,
it dons a simple, comfortable, khaki-colored robe.
Like shadows retreating, the past shifts,
a mirage of clarity rising in the shimmering heat.
I stand, not just in the light, but in the beauty of now,
knowing the desert holds the promise of something magnificent and new.
I clutch it close to my heart.
Poem written for “Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder Poetry Contest,” Crystol Woods, sponsor, July 2025.
Springtime has erupted; life's everywhere
With a fine chartreuse film that floats through the air.
The live oaks are blooming along with golden mesquite-
The scents of renewal are verdant and sweet.
Chameleon fields that change overnight;
A plethora of color; an artists delight
Yellow, so bright it hurts the eyes,
Covers the hills like a huge sunshine tide.
Pastures of green and wild onion white
Deceive the perception with flowered highlights.
Black and white calves frolic and play
Through the myriad of colors on display.
Seas of Indian paintbrush in brash scarlet red
Abut pink morning primrose, gently lifting its head;
Kaleidoscope gaillardia next to wine-colored phlox,
Mad impressionist Nature has pulled out the stops
Painting great Texas with colors galore
Then deciding to add just one color more
And up shoots the bonnets in startling blue.
Our states flower emblem, a salute to you.
JSC 2003
Although I hardly gave it a thought
I didn't really doubt
our miniature juniper, a bonsai,
would survive our desert vacation.
It likes the dry
air of our home, needs water
once a week at most and seems
meditative and active, both. While away
I rediscovered my love of agaves -
sotol and century
plant - met Mortonia and became
reacquainted with squawbush, its citrus
drupe which makes traveling the long horizon
of the desert uplands endurable.
Live oaks - emory,
wavyleaf - dominant and regally spaced
giving ground to mesquite only on the sere
sand flats. I counted and drew inflorescenses,
spikelets, florets, awns but grasses
remain a mystery
their microscopic parts. This year
I'll study, give them serious thought before
our Spring starts. The cactus wren was the one
bird I could be certain about. Sunsets
made me sorry
the desert is not my home. But the ocotilloes
flowered before we left and that made up
for the vicious attack of a hedgehog cactus.
Impressive, ponderosa pine and Arizona cypress
the canyon canopy
watered with snowmelt and along the high cliffs
limestone formations predating our arrival by
ten million years of weather. Newspapers
kept us aware humanity had not accomplished yet
the end of history
and that was fair. The planes were full of citizens
who no longer applaud upon landing. Snow flew,
not a pinyon pine or manzanita within two moons
walking. On the dining room sideboard, waiting,
our miniature juniper.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Without warning, they came
twelve jackrabbits rushing across
ice-kissed mesquite,
their ears shining with stars,
their hooves kicking up constellations.
Santa grabbed hold real tight,
his red hat flapping
like a startled roadrunner.
The reindeer back home
would never believe this~
Wow! How Texas moonlight
turned sleek fur silver,
how the rabbits wove
between prickly pear and oil derricks,
delivering joy in wild, bounding leaps.
By sunrise, they disappeared~
leaving just tracks in the Chihuahuan dust
and one lost jingle bell
nestled in the Texas sage.
*“A jackrabbit is a type of hare known for its long ears and powerful hind legs. Unlike rabbits, jackrabbits do not live in burrows and are typically found in open areas like deserts and grasslands.”(Source Wikipedia.com)
So reader
Amaze me
With your interpretations of my soul
Those bleak enough to peel the onion dry
And gawk astonished at the
French-fried layers tasty and rubbed
With mesquite anger and lament
What worth do I carry
For your own contemplations
Pressed against my tapestry
Do you see as I
Do I see at all
Does the world pass by
As we engage in musings
I carve from unfettered whims
And marinated gatherings
I only wish that value
Which I string along with
Licorice and toothpaste
Clog the sweet stick parts you ignore
Infuse your ability to wage
A safe night through the course sublime
That course being me
And the end game filled with
Winner's bounty
Fit for a twisted yet enthusiastic brethren.
(10/26/07)
Traveling through the doorway in my heart
I emerge
Gently closing it
I place my palms on the worn hinges of time
I lay my ear near its surface
As I let my lips hover close
Grazing the wood with a gentle kiss
I turn and walk down a few steps
The mist ~ the moisture ~ the fragrance
Of a million greens
Grass so tall and lush
Beckoning me
The ancient pines and redwoods
Towering above me on both sides
Whispering their secrets
I make my way
Stopping to press my nose
Against their soft bark...inhaling
Tickling my face
Bringing me back...back in time
I breathe in love
I breathe out gratitude
Opening my eyes, I see you in the distance
As shadow puppets dance and frolic
Upon rugged steep rock walls
The inner cave glows
The smell of mesquite
Rising sparks of pain and happiness
Leap from the flames
Your quiet silhouette calls to me
“Come little one...come”
I crouch down timidly at first
It is dark and I feel alone
In my nakedness
I slither along smooth stones
My belly brushing their surface
I make my way close to you
The fire alive with its dancing shadows
Sitting in silence
I gently embrace your blanketed form
You are me as an old woman
You are my lover
You are my friend
You are all of humanity
I kiss your weathered cheek
Tasting salty tears
Embracing you allows me to let go
To fully surrender to the moment
Hoo-hoo-hooooo
Crackle
Owls above
The sky illuminated through
The exposed top of the cave
Surrounded by whisps of fables and folklore
We rotate and spin
Slowly rising upward
Higher and higher
As ashes in the night
Reaching the lip of the cave
We are greeted by moonlight
Cold crisp air
A burst of light
As I spread feathered wings
Gliding towards treetops
My heart opens
My eyes open
I am here
To laugh ~ to cry
To give ~ to receive
To rejoice
To break bread with others
To love
Another day
Oh Summer, let me count thy ways as I bask
inside the sunlight of your sunny spice
Oh Summer, may I drink from your flaxen flask
before winter turns my skin as cold as ice
Oh Summer, dance me to the end of August
then dance me to the end of love.
Oh Summer, before my memory turns to dust
come and fit me like a glove...
Oh Summer, favored amongst all seasons
with your golden rays of Yupik Mesquite
Oh summer, give me all your fiery beacons
lay your leathery heat on me, replete
Oh Summer, Oh Summer, Oh Summer,
you'll be gone soon, now that is a bummer !
November Hunt
David J Walker
I drink coffee
in the morning and
I’m grateful for the warm flowing
Of Rich and bitter/black liquid from
The cast-iron percolation jukebox
Perched on the edges of a dancing
Mesquite campfire
A flame addressing my needs
greets me
It knows my name and offers
A slight barrier to the mornings
Raw cold
Not enough
though an inch
Away from too much
Canada geese cross the sky
Landing in their feeding grounds as
Cayotes patiently await
Their field mice breakfast
To carelessly pass by
I know this game
The hunter and the hunted
There is a loaded shotgun
At my side
The geese and I will have
Another encounter
The sun is an orangish glow
In the eastern distance
Its warmth will flow
Like hot black coffee
later in the day
By Letra Compas
and
Armonia Escala
It sequence lacked luster
she found it more interesting
to exaggerate the middle
to make a more engaging plot
to detail the characters intent
making antiques of the neauce
and eldering the nuance
it creates the kind of characters
that a captives audience
would need to falling love with
with her story
through all the glory
through all the deceit
giving the majority the rules
so that those who audience
these actions
could stand tall
to speak from the stump of Morality
of the wickedness of those
they refuse to champion
but would rather draw conclusion
as the real championed hero
stands to challenge the villain
EACH GRAIN OF SALT
by Sonido Ritmo
The sages steamed in the skillet
until they became smoked
she removed the stems and add garlic
the fumes, she coughed from the smoke
the peppers made her gag as she turned her head away
only to cry from the onions I once heard her say
the grounded pork in the render let its lard moisten this pan
when the meat brown she added the sauce to the pan
the spices more than aromus there flavors
through and through
to simmer meld and remold then she the Texas
Mesquite flavored brandy bought the whole thing
together to be plated and consumed
simple clean and clever