Stan Rodriguez

How did I come to know—
these lonely feeling
that I thought that only others felt?
...

I woke you to the morning
of this warm and glorious winter's day

to see the coming of the sunrise
...

Silent whispers call to mind
caring eyes that spoke
of an eternal love.
...

The conflicts in our union weren't resolved
leaving much too large an area—
yielding nothing to reconstruct
or a common place for us to dwell.
...

Ancient tumbles still occur
even in the light of day
gospel teachings flair and bounce
reading tales beyond the grave.
...

They scar the country with prejudice not paradise
oblivious to the currents that lights the evening skies

Stone monuments sometimes of steel
...

Off in the corner growing by the light—
under circulated beams of mental energy
mammoth books take on a life
where manuscripts are born of thoughts,
...

What gods have you created
for fear of being wrong.

What idols possessed that gentle heart
...

Sounds of rap-rap-rap sometimes a tap,
are heard within the night
and navigate with the flow of mystic naked thoughts.
...

I would have slain a dragon for you
in my youth
when fairy tales were the reading
of the day.
...

Dark and dirty were the bar stools
and no one seem to care
We came disjointed
desperate to consume the liquid of the day
...

Now that I have found you
within the darken street of
San Francisco—knowing we have
no other place to go
...

Flowing—flowing on shadows of the past
I move away
from stormy nights void of silvery stars
and streams of rain.
...

What happy day when we were young
the hopscotch chalk and bubblegum

the roller skate and parks to play—
...

Common-frights from stormy nights
passions ring by candle light
all is darkness with a flair
of white lightning-flashes through the air
...

Spray colored-rainbow-can
dance to the music of my hands

A switch, a pop and pop again
...

Prepare daydreamer to fly with id
that we might enjoy a journey from within

Close those lenses which focus into other worlds
...

Try loving for a change
it could simulate your thighs of wanting
could fill your heart with purpose
and make a vagabond of your emotions
...

Shadows of the night grew weeping
thunder was her evening cry

and there in the village yonder
...

Introductions always seem to run the same

Cloned and scripted—we smile
saying our best hellos "How do you do"
...