Oomm-lette

Oomm-lette

in the meditation of words

 the joy of cooking

as even a clumsy cook knows

you have to breaks eggs

those magic vessels so compleat in their shells

words contained whole

that beg to be broken

those syllables to make sounds for the mind

and become food for the soul

 music when baked or steamed

or grilled in a broiler

not to be touched awaiting the moment

as the mad man waits for words

the anticipation of flavours

A. Mendoza, October 2019

middle

MIDDLE

to discover how weak you are

from the middle of your  strength

the solid middle

gathering through love 

the witness of your soul

in circles surrounding like shadows

making the light bright like a gauze etching

beneath a watercolor

to discover how strong you are

from the middle of your weakness

a solid middle 

the soul your witness 

of etched shadows 

awaiting color

is it fading shadow

or is it fading light

we see in the middle

witnessing through gauze

how easy it is

to be surrounded by the middle

A. Mendoza, September 2019

Roll

ROLL

there's an itch

in the back of my head

marbles rolling around

when I shake it 

from side to side

until the cobwebs

become a net

sewing tighter into a mesh

forming a fabric

of itchy marbles

beady glass that squints

in a darkness that rises

to the ripples forming

a shaken cobweb

the tightened net

of mesh of marbles

in a rising darkness

 no longer needing to squint

 it is so easy to simply

roll side to side

A. Mendoza, Sept 2019

An Opposite of Music

An Opposite of Music

a carafe of coffee steaming

the water for tea boiling

sometimes making up your mind is not an option

the familiar color

and comfort of aromas

 surrounded and comforted

glass reveals the familiar

not twin

no duality

missing a janus entanglement

a breeze and scent

paired yet separate

an opposite of music

A. Mendoza, Sept 2019

MUSIC

MUSIC

the bemusement in the eyes

and the pain as the witness

repressed emotions boil over

heated by shame

fuel of memories love

when I was called a good man

when I was told I was loved

completeness that smile,  that joy

now stoked by humiliation

until those embers become ashes

like the ashes of the loved

the bemusement as wind

to witness in horror

how casual that dismissal

of such treasures

by a single breeze

now only a convenience

and casual enjoyment

where once the soul

recited that music

A. Mendoza, 2019

BETWEEN

BETWEEN

between the difference

lucid dreams

nightmares

roll the music

unseen a darkness 

nothing  under

nothing standing

that gold coin unpossessed

a true Janus value

a parchment shadow

a memory, an echo

as witness and participant

in a disjointed path

searching for a destination

looking for that living colour

against nights black and white

where nightmare meets lucid dreaming

just before the gold coin 

lands

A. Mendoza, 2019

running in the dark

RUNNING IN THE DARK

to make an allowance 

for the shadow

written in the dark

avoiding the grey areas

it washes away the colours

allowing light

a white clarity

the only reflection

is pen and paper

running in the darkness

and living a private life

accompanying a Janus dream

that coin that never flips

because it is both

whatever you run from

and whatever you run to

a mirror, a pen and paper

A. Mendoza, 2019

CHANGE

CHANGE

look to the moon and it turns away

gaze into a shining and it hides

find the amazing that becomes covered with darkness

reaching for the light switch 

to find the button

the exit that is entrance

looking through a window from the outside

as the curtain closes

away from a shining moon

that button closed

reaching behind a closed window

the entrance that is exit

to what is hiding from the outside

finding the amazing

A. Mendoza, 2019

get to the point

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2tkKdo1myY

Where is it?

Where Is It?

to suddenly miss what was never missed 

before

to realize the pointlessness 

of time


to find something

inside

that magic is the living

the filled moments


discovery

along the ways of quiet

and then the smile

settled is all fate


like that even matters

fate doesn't understand

as we can

promised time is promised waters


along those streams

both frozen and steamed

in waves and rain 

as hail and as reflections


before 

the pointlessness of time 

inside

a discovery 

A. Mendoza, 7/2019