Jose Armando Guzman
Born and raised in the border towns of Nogales in Southern Arizona. Jack of all trades. Musician by heart and the soul of a poet. Residing in the Old Pueblo named Tucson. I have had various incarnations as an artist. more »
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Jose Armando Guzman Poems
Four walls of adobe. Those four walls were painted a light green
Ghosts In Adobe
These adobe walls hold all of yesterday inside. It is all just dust and empty tears.
The Ides of March
I can still feel the air of that March evening. My hands still shake whenever I recall that somber little reunion. I had not expected to see you anytime soon.
There has been an itching inside of my head going on for a while now, I have tried to ignore it, and just push it down into the void.
All I could hear was the voice that has long since haunted me. 'Tucson to Cuidad Juarez now boarding'.
Her smile spoke to me. The shine of her essence spoke to me. It was the way she held her book as she read that sent a shiver
The reasoning escapes me tonight. Memories are flowing through my veins and tasting tears with every heartbeat.
The Painted Lizard
The whiskey was always flowing at the Painted Lizard Cafe.
Ode To A Huntress Moon
I can still recall the cold air as it breezes by those memories held inside for so many years. I wonder if the ground appreciates
In the South
Rode the hound down into New Orleans, days spent in Ozona sleeping through the memories. Texas was one big dust storm
I'm waiting for the moon to shine bright in the horizon. Maybe I should get on the hound or take the train somewhere past
Flavor of the Month
Is this where we stand now? Bought and sold to the multinational corporations. Cheap whores
White Port (revised)
Forever was those few moments as the bottle was first opened. Fresh, just like the new
Comments about Jose Armando Guzman
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Four walls of adobe.
Those four walls were
painted a light green
that will always make
me think of the way
my hands would mold
to the soft curves
of your waist.
Those same four
walls made out of mud,
straw, and water.
Sometimes stones get
lost in the formula.
Adobe walls that will
hold those moments
that are now frozen
The adobe walls can not
forget the shimmer
in your eyes nor
the rhythm of your
I too am made