On Zach

As deepest gray in crimson dark

He likens depth of truth to view

And when in writ of word and mark

The truth to tell and sorrows slew

Upon his act that follow straight

As constant stars that turn on cue

He summons strength on unknown traits

And friends withal know not to rue

So unafraid to speak and sow

Upon an earthen ripe to glee

A sun that unknown wields its show

A stream of fret he channels free

And when I look his eyes on dire

They speak to none and fool their meant

But taken by a moment’s tire

One may divine his true intent

 

j.m.

On Failed Quizzes

To reap the merits of deviation

And fret on charts with empty cells

that call unknown some stat formation

Yet dwell upon a blinking spell.

I pull like scarves off weeping hats

a method proved by centuries teach

but ticking minutes pull the latch

of knowledge’s door to bear no reach

But try and must as students ought

And words in books, the like that meant

Instill trite lessons so careful taught

But none to learn and much to vent.

So thus there lies a failed attempt

To bear and show what rust has wrought

In minds that kept so long inept

solutions found yet none that caught.

-j.m.

On Freedom

I live and breathe with cares to none

And run and play on planks that ledge

On oceans deep with dangers run

But eyes are blind and sorrows fledge.

As sway to current grasses dance

I move like air with no respite

And hope to live without the chance

that morrow’s sorrows recover sight.

-j.m.

On a night in Buenos Aires, 1943

El temblor del
bandoneón

Hace mover el aire

Con un baile prohibido entre dos

Humero de pasion, sin viento

Causa un sonido de piano que no se escapa

Y se difunde en los cuerpos de los que bailan

Notas desplumadas de la guitarra

Hacen mover las olas de un mar sonal

Y hacen nadar los pies en madera

El ta-ra-ra de las voces

y el son de los violines

como
un cuchillo entre cuerpos

dan a pasar el tiempo bueno de esta parranda

Milonguerita, mi mundo y mi aire

Mi muñeco bravo, Mi mal amor

Con un trago y un cigarillo

Botando humo de deséo

Cuando en sus ojos veo un viento de pasión

Se hace mañana y el sonoro del gallo canta

Pero el gallo no espanta

El diluvio de sudor…

-j.m.

On Sighs

Of vernal hopes like prayers rise

but answered by an icy fall

and dreams of green as color dies

will hidden fears show mighty claws

These sighs that end the running stream

Of waters that ere meant to flow

But only to hit stony beams

Will they then stop and flood, not grow.

j.m.

On a Friend’s Recovery

As veins that trail the fold of bark, and curl around the farthest bough

Like light that warms the hidden stark, and rains that rise what rested low

Will blood again find warmth in light, and breaths delayed now grown to speed

And thirsty buds that ushered blight drink now the dew that drop in beads

To stand up high and claim what’s sown within the soils that once were cold

a seed that pecked upon by crows, yet proved to reach some stronger hold

Will my friend see a sudden day, and longer still with suns to come

To live without repine or fray but only blooms once day is done.

-j.m.

On Deceit

A harsher summer this year spins, when suns appear apart from one

With rays that claw to scald moist skins, yet burns respite once day is done

But words that speak like daggers flung, cast precise upon the soft

Will burn as like three times as strong without the chill of shade aloft.

No sweat can cool a wound of lies; no lines can stitch a ripe deceit

And rot can come and serve with flies, but naught will come to heal the cheat

For fibs now spun around in threads and meant to quilt a truth and sing

Will know no chill of winter spreads, nor tides of healing rains in spring

For earthly seasons come to end, but summer suns that pierce with lies

Will reign and burn and see no mend, and spoil the crop that feed the wise

But lies wield shields of shallow husk, when truths are armed and rise to slay

Will virtue then bring on the dusk to usher in an honest day.

-j.m.

On Ambition

to err and mean what sighs deny

and cleanse to clean and lie to fly

but when in time affairs come due

true hearts to gain what liars rue

to bleed, not red, but white content

and sweat, not salt, but sweet confect

a prize deserved will find its home

with arms to widen, I let it go

True eyes could see what mine could not

True lips could taste the fruit not dropped

From trees that grew from humble shoot

that watered by with words to root

could yield not all but just the same

the only jewel that spoke my name

And when in time I slow intent

And grow to learn the steep ascent

To reach the branch that holds its bough

In strength to shine the prize to glow

Its gleam will blink through much despair

But once I fail to show true care

Its stem will snap and fall it must

Upon a heap and then to rust

-j.m.

On Reserve

 

When told by book what to do or say

And smile when motions have it so

And keep true thoughts and airs at bay

To avoid the keep of company low

I roll my eyes and do as I must

For love of those who pray will hope

That I bare no ill antagonist just

As I wish to do and none to show.

So I keep this face so rosy flushed

To betray a glee of senses true

But inner lights will glow unrushed

By a subtle gesture or hidden cue.

When behind closed doors, I sigh delight

And truly think what others rue

And open a window, let breeze take flight

to let the current carry words that brew

in me passions stronger than I care to show

To faces absolved by proud reserve

But for those who lend an ear that knows

I’ll proudly sing and not unnerve.

-j.m.

On Envy

There is meaning behind the expression ‘green with envy.’  When flesh loses life, it loses the blush of life’s source, the blood that swims in us and livens our eyes, warms our touch.  Once this is flushed out, it leaves waste, a rotting mass putrid in scent and even more ghastly in sight.  It turns green.  Our souls are that body, our hearts its flesh.  When envy takes hold of it, its germ infects our human talent, sickens our every word, and engulfs our every thought.  Of all the sins we as people are oft to commit in our lifetimes, envy carries the crown. 

To envy is to desire what we do not possess, yet covet from another.  It is in this state that we are rendered inept, defiant, and willful to act in ways we may despise most dearly in a sober state.  To act upon envy is to repeat a cycle of torment that pervades our history as people; we play at war when we look to the fortune of those around us, we kill to satisfy an end where we seek to gain yet at all times fail, we lie to hide truths that shame us.  Once envy takes hold, our every thought is tainted with dissatisfaction, and then weakens us to fall prey to a temptation that may ephemerally satisfy, but will invidiously thirst for more.  And thus it continues until we realize (or never realize) the futility of such desire; we succumb to its distress and fret to desire no more, but this in itself is the most challenging test man could ever face. 

So what should one do when envy enters the heart and threatens its peace? Extirpate it.  Wash it off your conscience, let it fall into suds that drain to oblivion.  Let your mind take you to the things you do have, the gifts you have been given, the joys you find in living.  And covet those things once more with an unyielding passion that can overpower an envious heart.

-j.m.