Short Recaptures Poems

The ending recaptures,
  what my beginning set free

A swan in pure flight,
—wings open and free

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)...

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Peacefully gazing up at the sky
Thinking of my life. 
And all that as been
An passed by,
Thankful
To my mother
For every day & night.
She made them
Alright.
Now I miss my  
 Family.
But I have memories get me by. 
If I drift to far 
I just look up at the SKY,
And moments
Recaptures me 
And I smile Every
time.
Causes memories
Flood my mind...

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Peacefully gazing up at the sky
Thinking of my life. 
And all that as been
An passed by,
Thankful
To my mother
For every day & night.
She made them
Alright.
Now I miss my  
 Family.
But I have memories get me by. 
If I drift to far 
I just look up at the SKY,
And moments
Recaptures me 
And I smile Every
time.
Causes memories
Flood my mind...

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The words in the melody
  the words on the page

Related but different
  the Minstrel and Sage

The music recaptures
  what ink only starts

As harmony sings
  from an angelic heart

A phrase and a lyric
  as cousins relate

Too distant for brothers
  too close in their fate

One soul with two masters
  each fighting to gain

Your soul ever after
—your spirit to claim

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)...

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my story in a thimble protecting me from the prick of the needle

the mother gave birth to an easy baby at noon in the sweltering heat of Morocco
the lively little girl became a teenager in the grey of Paris and lost her appeal
the young adult exiled in New York stayed invisible to the eyes of the world
in the prime of her life she became wild and had to climb back the ladder
mature she thrives and recaptures the creative child she was....

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sitting on a bench at the battery
listening to forgotten free jazz
on the most perfectly created sunny, blue sky day
fliritng with an older lady 
watching her figure in a very comforting amazement
focusing back on said free jazz as her husband returns from the bathroom to rejoin her
feeling lonely for a little bit
then the old Chicano soul kicks in
the water recaptures my attention,
and i return to enjoying my wonderful day on a bench at the battery...

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a sibilated soul swiftly flung from two lips embowed, intended to access the 
essence of its recipient and grasp on so tightly that when it is recoiled , the 
unsettled reviler removes a shred. Now inadequate and left immature, the undone 
immortal lashes out with irrelevance of consequence. It recaptures what was once 
lost, only now to find that it has gained a piece of its opposer, It is unconscious 
of the effectiveness of its actions but even now whole again, the affliction 
abides....

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