Precepciones Angelicos


No te pierdas en encuentros o requerdos de un sentimiento de la novedad – lo que voz interpretas como nuevo y bello a siempre sido asi.

Solo con la existencia de su precepcion llega elevar la novedad a ser iterno.  Son sus ojos propios que elevan lo bello a ser angelico.





While the memory of her is still fresh in my mind…

Of humid cool nights walking by gas light down narrow streets in the Quarter – louvered doors and raised foundations are typical architecture for a city so close to water – reminding me so much of the city of San Jose in the country of my mother.  Meals with good friends, illegal midnight swims by the light of the moon, horns playing in some unseen place down a dark gangway, jambalaya, oysters & corn bread, the scent of rum and tobacco outside the dance hall with my best friend of many years – is all the soul-food that sustains me long after the meal is consumed. 

We were here before and the lovely mistress called us back again.

NOLA – she is the bayou, she is the light behind the shuttered window, the open iron gate that leads out to the street where willows on the hot and hazy boulevards whisper Billie’s sweet & sassy lyrics.  They have been witness to rich history; travelers past who lived and walked these streets dusty from blowing gulf sands shaded by lush flora of delta waters. 

Perhaps, after some distant and soft summer storm has passed, when the piano comes alive, as the players begin – they may also mention our passing.  But now hush while your pulse quickens because a new tanda is starting and we perform our kinetic prose again.


Pagan I

Pagan – A whispered promise of rain comes as winds brew and mix from north and south.
I come to you hungry and tired from this journey’s end looking for those things that make me worldly.
Whispers became thunder and I remember how she speaks to me…
Sometimes low and quiet and others with a voice so tremendous commanding respect – neither of which can I ignore.
I know what has always been,
She is the Mother, the source
Nurturing my spirit, life blood of my machine, the fountain that cleanses my consciousness.
I am listening
I hear you
I am always returning