Victor D. López's Blog: Victor D. Lopez, page 86

Poetry: Free Verse — “The Subway”

The Subway

I stand alone in the dark Fulton Street subway station,

Breathing in the urine-scented air,

Breathing out clouds of steam,

A subway train rushes along,

Not stopping,

Biting at my eardrums,

With the painful percussion,

Of thousands of people,

Silently screaming,

 

I don’t want to see,

     I don’t want to see,

          I don’t want to see,

 

The air fanned by each subway car,

Rushes against me,

Pushes the ozone and the smell of burnt brake linings,

Into my nostrils,

Along with the air,

Sucked through the iron gratings,

Along miles of Brooklyn sidewalks,

Carrying the odor of a prostitute’s festering sores,

And the cries of a hungry, fatherless child in dirty diapers,

And the hoarse moaning of a city councilman mentoring a young intern,

And the cheap perfume of a fourteen year-old runaway,

Turning $20 tricks in an alley,

Smelling of stale Chinese food and wet dogs,

And . . .

 

I don’t want to see,

     I don’t want to see,

          I don’t want to see,

 

. . . the smell of spoiled cabbage soup,

And the rancid remains of a hotdog buried in sourkraut,

And putrid lilies lying in a gutter,

All assaulting me, forcing me backwards,

Until my back presses against,

The grimy once-white tiles,

That coldly burn their graffiti on my spine:

 

God is dead,

Bake a kike,

Whitey sucks,

Kill the niggers,

 

I don’t want to see,

     I don’t want to see,

          I don’t want to see,

 

The train finally passes,

Its lights receding into the dank,

Dark tunnel beyond the platform,

The screeches and screams slowly die out,

Their echoes sucking behind them,

The smell,

Of my,

Warm

Vomit.

 

From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez.

For more information about me or my you can visit my Amazon Author’s Page here.  You can also visit my personal web page with links to my main blogs at victordlopez.com.

 

Poetry: Blank Verse — “Central Park”

Central Park
Flowers bloom next to rusting Pepsi cans,
Watered by the spit of cocaine dealers,
And the semen and vaginal fluid,
Of hot lovers groping under blankets,
Under stars dimly blinking through thick smog.

Nightly haven for muggers, rapists, fiends,
Whose every breath profanes the species they,
So poorly represent, turning Plato’s,
Featherless bipeds, to dead plucked chickens,
Soul-less, pointless wastes of protoplasm.

Abomination– not in itself but,
For the use it’s put to: a bone for dogs,
Who’ve never tasted steak, and are gleeful,
To feast upon the scraps of fetid meat,
Clinging to well-gnawed bones that they are fed.

Central Park, the bone we are to chew while,
Smiling complacently at skyscrapers,
Daily rising where wild flowers might have grown,
Our humanity proportionally,
Shrinking inversely to their daily rise.

If I seem narrow minded and unkind,
Or blind to the beauty of Central Park,
It is because I’ve stood on virgin ground,
In summer, fall, winter and early spring,
And cannot bring myself to love a whore.


From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez.

For more information about me or my you can visit my Amazon Author’s Page here.  You can also visit my personal web page with links to my main blogs at victordlopez.com.



For an audio version of this poem read by me, you can click on the following link: Central Park – YouTube video.










Tagged: blank verse, book of poems, contemporary poetry

Sonnets: “Siren’s Song”

Siren’s Song
Poetry is a dangerous siren’s song,
That calls the soul towards a chasm deep,
Dulling the mind and making the heart long,
For that which it may touch yet never keep.

A Sonnet is too much the friend of truth,
And leaves no room for self-deluding lies,
It conjures up the honesty of youth,
And artifice through artifice soon dies.

Essential truths will spill onto the page,
Transpiring through the pores of consciousness,
Leaving exposed the battles that we wage,
To build facades of hope for hopelessness.

I can deny the painful song I hear,
But it’s too late; its message is too clear.

From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez

 

Tagged: American poetry, contemporary poetry, sonnets

Sonnet: “Death of a Quiet Soldier”

Special forces operators  see themselves as quiet soldiers. They do some of the most dangerous work of our military in the most dangerous war zones around the planet and as a rule never discuss their work with outsiders, do not seek recognition or glory, but simply complete their assigned missions with deadly efficiency, often under the worst conditions imaginable.  They volunteer to serve, then volunteer for the chance to go through hell in the highly competitive weeding out process that leaves the military with the best of the best.
These bravest of men, heroes by any rational definition of the term,  sacrifice themselves and their families who share that sacrifice as they endure unimaginable hardships in both their training and missions, and willingly do their jobs in every dangerous corner of the world, all too often paying with their blood and lives for the freedom we enjoy in our happy homes oblivious to their service, their pain, their hardships and of the full measure of their sacrifice. They choose to serve without acknowledgment, without glory, and with very rare exception, without thanks.
Outsiders like me who can never understand the bonds and trust of these special fraternities, or the strength they draw from each other in the knowledge that no matter the cost, they will not leave one of their own behind, even when one has made the ultimate sacrifice.
I am privileged to have one of these quiet soldiers as a close family member and friend. He never speaks about his past work, and we, as a rule, never ask. The following sonnet is about a very rare and very brief comment that he made about a casualty in his unit some years back.
If you know a special operator, active of retired, you know the signature quiet grace that comes from their supreme confidence that is so very different from the stereotype portrayed in the movies. These individuals are  not as a rule boisterous, loud, or violent–unless you give them good reason to be, of course. They are Alpha males so secure in their own skins that they do not need to strut about like their Hollywood fictional stereotypes. They are most likely to be polite, unflappable, invariably positive, driven, goal oriented men with absolutely nothing to prove to anyone other than themselves. God Bless them, every single one.

Death of a Quiet Soldier

Behind enemy lines you gave your life,
The risks you knew and embraced willingly,
Red, black and green berets fought by your side,
And brought your body back to family.

Later in a ritual of their own,
They would name a field airport in your name,
And honor you, your brothers, far from home,
Their memory now your eternal flame.

I do not know your rank, your name, your face,
I only know that I am in your debt,
Who for your family can take your place?
Our debt to them we must never forget.

The freedom I enjoy comes thanks to you,
And all who serve with honor, proud and true.

Sonnet: “For Devon Short”

Devon Short was the grandson of our wonderful long-time neighbors who died of a tragic accident while playing in the extensive back yard of his rural home at the age of five. His dad is a decorated volunteer firefighter and Devon wanted to be a firefighter like his dad when he grew up. He was buried with his dad’s commendation on his chest because it had been a source of pride for this little boy whose aspiration would not be realized in this world due to a tragic twist of fate. I originally penned this sonnet on our sympathy card and his grandparents printed it in our local newspaper and reprinted it at the anniversary of his death. It is still hard more than a decade later for me to read it. Devon is in a better place, but my heart still breaks for his family and friends.

For Devon Short

A little angel winks from up above,

The littlest fireman in God’s domain,

Bathed in God’s Grace, covered with His love,

Untouched by earthly cares, worries, or pain.

 

Too soon your race was done, Devon, dear child,

Only five summers’ suns warmed your sweet face,

And yet you brought much joy for one so mild,

To all who knew your smile, felt your embrace.

 

Tears mark your passing in a time too brief,

We wish God had less pressing need of you,

Your family struggles now to bear their grief,

Lord, grant them peace and strength their whole lives through.

 

Your spirit flies now high above the sky,

Lifted by love that will not, cannot die.

Tagged: book of poems, contemporary poetry, sonnets

Sonnets: “Love’s Promise”

Love’s Promise
I used to stumble, weakly as a child,
Who cannot see, touch, smell, taste or feel,
A wandering entity whom love defiled,
And made to falsely genuflect and kneel.
 
So very many nights through tears I’ve slept,
Drowning in the indifference of this earth,
So very many years my heart I kept,
Eager to light the fires of home and hearth.
 
But then one soft, cool night not long ago,
Your love you tenderly presented me,
And in my veins new life began to flow,
As we were joined for all eternity.
 
When we outgrow our cells of flesh and bone,
I pray our love will freely fly back home.
 
From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez 
Tagged: book of poems, contemporary poetry, sonnets

Sonnets: “Imperfect Love”

Imperfect Love
The quest has been a long one, and I find,
Myself unable to continue it;
I have seen days and weeks and years unwind,
Wasting my time and youth bit by slow bit.

Striving for perfect love I’ve come to know,
It exists only in a dreamer’s heart,
And while waiting for it to somehow grow,
I’ve ignored pure love offered from the start.

I need to wake and yet I fight to sleep,
That I might dream and there find happiness;
I close my eyes, my ears, my mind and keep,
My airy castles safe from truthfulness.

I feel my slumber’s ending and I fear,
The chill of wakefulness as it draws near.


From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez
Tagged: contemporary poetry, love poems, sonnets

Sonnets: “On Waning Love”

On Waning Love
Oh fast-approaching vision of despair,
Radiating an aura of faint hope,
I still discern a hint of what is fair,
But dimly as a star through a weak scope.

I ask redundant questions knowing well,
There are no simple answers I can find,
I quiver at a faintly tolling bell,
Fearing above all else to be unkind.

Sweet dream remembered, such a happy dream,
Simple and pure as a child’s heartfelt kiss,
An evanescent vision it would seem,
Like a quick-fading springtime morning mist.

The child in me rejoices with some glee,
The man weeps for his word and sanity.

From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. Lopez


Tagged: contemporary poetry, love poetry, poetry, sonnets

Sonnets: “Falling”

Falling
How can I tell you, dearest friend of all,
What you have meant, and mean right now, to me?
Through deepest silence you can hear my call,
Your eyes see through my soul, set my ghosts free.

Weary, so weary, is this heart of mine,
Nor is there for me any rest in sight,
How can I feel so helpless and so fine,
Stumbling through darkness, bathed in steady light.

Such easy riddles I weave with a smile,
They need no sword to solve them, nor much wit,
Yet I’ve no answers, at least none wothwhile,
Only a puzzle whose pieces won’t fit.

My writing, music and old friend are here,
Gone are my soul and my word, though, I fear.

From Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems (C) 2011 Victor D. López

Sample Readings from Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems

This is a sample reading of an excerpt from my longest poem, “Unsung Heroes” as well as several sonnets from Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems.