Juan Olivarez Poems

The water is murky, and refreshingly cool,
On a hot summer's day as we dive in.
This is Chavira's canal, it's not a pool,
We dive in naked as original sin.
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The storm has knocked out all the lights.
And all is dark in this stygian night,
A scratching sound and a match ignites,
Bathing the room in a ghostly light.
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A melody I shall impart,
Which dwells within this lonely heart.
And continually courses through my brain,
In brightest sunshine, or in rain.
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Home is a dim, half remembered thought,
Like a quest of old, by knights long sought.
That humanity, for an ideal, furiously fought.
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A little ball of furr,
Is sleeping in my hand.
A little tabby kitty, her,
Purring smoothly, as she can.
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Brilliant meteor way up high,
On a collision course with Earth.
Falling from the evening sky,
Like a roman candle in the north.
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They say you can't go home again,
But i'm sure gonna try.
But i'm not gonna take a train,
And i'm sure as hell not going to fly.
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Night Crawlers wiggling in my hand,
They are the best bait in all the land.
Night Crawlers, six and a half inch long,
From the heart of Texas, you can't go wrong.
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The black bumble bee
Is building a home.
On the old dead tree,
By herself, all alone.
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From high up on a branch,
Of a giant oak tree.
A white winged dove,
Called down to me.
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