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bamboo butterflies drifting
across the Sea of Cortez
with windmill drifting
through fresh eyes
while chanting from
the Book of Songs
underneath the
soprano blue sky
it's best to

know a country

boy.

between clicks.

before cities spur.
I just have to look
at you
to feel it.

To know it
I have to look
away.

Like the pages
of a book
mid-tornado,

Fragments of
information, the pieces
all out of place.

Still,

I believe you
beg to be
read.
I know that you are not
"the one"
I know this is not real

It isn't really about you
It's just the way I feel

I tell myself this time is different
this time you are right

But I am chasing the same shadow
through a different night

I never get used to the pain
the pain
the same **** pain

I know you will break the cycle
I know you will break the chain

And tomorrow I will run from you
But it will be the same

The same sorrow
The same pain

Same shadow
Another name
Wrestle with myself
Sometimes don't do well
Lonely as the rain
She's married, Ishmael

Empty hotel room
Rain, driving rain
La Sagrada Familia
Barcelona, Spain

                  Ole!
You forgot you were alive
Long before you died.
Tonight after an isolating illness,
propelled beyond my darkness,
I walked into a universe of light
where stars are swallowed
into black holes
spreading their energy and light
into and beyond the shame or blight
dragged along by each
stumbling with the baggage of their histories,
then recovering
his balance.
I wish I could attach the image that partially inspired this poem. It is an image of a star or galaxy being swallowed by a black hole or at least that is what it looks like to me. The image: https://www.pexels.com/photo/red-and-orange-galaxy-illustration-41951/
I've followed Cornel West for 30 years
Richard Rodriguez too
Sacramento, California
Pondicherry Zoo

Quiet hotel room
The Buddhists say not-two
Si Sacramento
May I be true to you
My heart is made of bone
and lungs are made of pomegranates
My eyes are dull with stars
And my mouth is rough as apricots.
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