Biography of Eddie Roa
I'm a retired marketing man (market research, advertising, media management, brand management) now taking up the pen to express, entertain, elate, annoy myself.
I'm married to Alma, with two kids Eric and Lyn, one grandson from each, Dustin and David.
Eddie Roa's Works:
Eddie Roa Poems
What have I gotten myself into? A commune of faggots, dilettantes, Men In mistaken milieus Ladies feigning radical chic
I espied a red glint In between the cracks On the wooden panels Of a locked up closet
The foothills are rueful and evasive today Their outline glow seems palled and The twilight reluctant to give up the light The sun a dull emboss on weak pink,
Hey! I saw you I told the breeze as he swooped And lifted a lady’s skirt With no one seeing us
But, I Wanted To Sing –
Sparrows in my mind Scratching for ort Stirring a host Crowding in my bowels
I lived in depths of a hundred fathoms Where days are dark and cold Darting shrimps leave silver streaks The only light to be seen at noon
Leaving By Taxi
Tell him not to go Tug at his coat sleeves Cry out in plea Won’t you?
Too Late The Nomad
Stranger from the highlands and cold climes Your gaudy costume and cleated shoes Speak of romance and never ending adventures What can you tell me of the land that you came from?
The frog proclaims unabashedly Within hearing of everyone He brags that he has paid his dues And did it even before the last hour,
Haiku - Memories
The Morning God Sang
The sounds came rushing in, where did it come from? Has it always been there? Angels’ halleluiahs, God’s riant laughter Pervasive, reverberating in crescendo at the gladdening hour, Trilling with early birds, buzzing, whirring with the bees on morning forage
I come to you now unclothed, unwashed and unabashed, This is my barest, lowliest, truest self, With wanton passions brimming, ogling with animal intent This is me wallowing neck deep in the sweet but unctuous tar pit
Haiku Missing Mom
To Alicia Back From Dubai (Overseas Work...
Throw the door wide open and rejoice With spread arms and welcoming laughter Oh, my beloved is back from a long sojourn A perilous odyssey in distant shores
La Belle Dame Sans Amour
He saw her pass by
Crossing with familiar rush
A figure moving in strobe
A tree stripped bare in the Fall
Like watercolor blotting badly
Rouge melting showing skin
Is that she? He asked
Surely, not she, he thought
There unmasked in stark light
He loved her truly
They all did, too
Who asked you? said she