Our Own Place

Our spirits dance a dance
reaching the highest power
as each sends out energy
which meets within the hour  

All the messages are fed
into this volcanic brew
as its pumped and stirred
by thoughts of me and you.  

Then from time to time
sensuous lava does flo
making room for more passion
to have a place to go.  

In every stormy wave
there rides upon the tips
cravings to fulfill the lust
with feverish moistured lips  

In this, our own starry abode
enchantment fills the place
as I float on pure sensations
always seeing your face.  

Del Cano 2006 Jan

I Cried

Fingers held back
lips puckered to kiss
arms aching for you
needing Poetic Bliss

Desire dangling
swollen to a rage
every sense feeling
trapped, caged

That dead feeling
broke thru the crust
confirming tonight
there can be no "US"

I cried. I cried
torrents of tears.
Vulnerable, open,
facing those fears.

I cried. I cried
for every lone night
wanting, needing
you as my light.

I cried. I cried
tears of lament
wailing love's
torment.

I cried. I cried
a relentless flood
tears tracking like
facial mud.

O, I cried. I cried
for all the days
we missed sharing
our lover's craze.

I cried. I cried
for all the nights
you danced in mind
in angelic lights.

I cried. I cried
for failing you
in not being
all I could be.

I cried. I cried
for different worlds
we share in our
spins and twirls.

I cried. I cried
for want to share
yet knowing I can't
be there.

I cried. I cried
myself to fever
wanting, needing
a total griever.

I cried. I cried
in the knowing
this ache shall
continue blowing.

I cried. I cried
for your needs
passions fire,
your bleeds.

I cried. I cried
for how your stance
reaching for solace
in another romance.

I cried. I cried
cause I can't
do, give more
than rants.

I cried. I cried.
a lover's scene
for the love of
my Queen.

I cried. I cried
a river's wash
too deep for a
dam to squash.

I cried. I cried
taking not pause
nor celebrating
or being Santa Claus.

O love. I cried
for miles so far
wishing to be
where you are.

I cried and cried
till eyes were swoll
for every thought
you are the goal.

I cried. I cried
life's falling apart.
Got you so deep
way down in...
my heart.

I CRIED!

Del Cano 2005 Dec
 

What If

What if you had not been
my real fantasy come true.
There'd not be much of me
if there had not been you.

What if I hadn't recognized
your lovely face that day
and walked straight towards you
as our eyes met that way?

What if you had not returned
the love started in my fantasy.
There would not be the songs
sung with love by you and me.

When the whole world looks
at the stars or a sunset too
my eyes are fixed, staring
on the sunrise of you.

All of life's burdens are lighter
with you, here by my side.
Glad the angels heard your prayer
which filled my soul with pride.

Del Cano 2005 Dec

Dreams Exhaled

I should have read "Goodnight"
last night before I went to bed.
Might not have had rumblings
dancing bout my head.

Could have just smiled in jest
invited your spirit in real close
Allowing dreams to exhale
accepting your healing dose.

By 4:00 AM while sipping tea
could have been sweeter still.
Your dash of honey dripped
droplets adding to the thrill.

Such a big sigh let loose
secrets spreading to light.
Casting off the shadows
hidden in the dead of night.

I made it tho, as you see
but didn't count one sheep.
Candy canes a dancing
as I drifted off to sleep.

Del Cano 2005 Nov

 

Christmas Memories

 

 Christmas Memories
 
I see hard striped candy in the bowl
The one grandma gave to us
So many aromas to inhale
Turkey, ham, duck, greens, yams, kale
Even a hog head we might behold.
 
Awesome were the visual delights
Sweet potato pies, chocolate cake
Cookies, rising buns, candy galore
 Leaving barely room for any more
And constant Christmas blinking lights.
 
Each morsel, every tidbit of taste
Solidified in my memory bank.
Brazil nuts, walnuts, pecans, other nuts
Never let my taste buds fall in ruts
Every bite found its permanent space.
 
Today, after all these many years
Those holiday memories are locked tight
In my  pallets view and my heart’s mind
Pine cones and needles, yew, scotch pine
Always evoke happy holiday tears.
 
With the holidays so close and such
Lets see spicy turkey, ham, deer, mutton--
Just mulling over what I might prepare
Maybe gumbo, with a New Orleans flair
What ever, should not make too much.
 
No family, no matter how large they be,
Can consume all the morsels of the holidays
All those taste and visual pleasantries
And, oh, so many  holiday melodies 
Produced from ones Christmas memories.
 

Del Cano 2002
 
 
 

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is always
a requirement we need
it not only releases pain
it stops a future bleed.

No way will I tote round
the crap some one else did
I forgive and learn from it
for it will ever stay hid.

Beyond that I am selfish
will not give them the satisfaction
to know I'm carrying their angst
not allow pain from their action.

The best to do is to forgive
get that poison out of your heart
no matter what they do or say
then you have the better part

Del Cano 2005 Dec

Response to "How Do We Forgive" by Dianna
From her journal Dianna's Mindless Musings
http://journals.aol.com/sazzylilsmartazz/TheHellaciousHereticGoesAMuse-in/

Sorry

I opened my closet
sorries came tumbling out.
Too many stored for years
there just aint no doubt.

They push against the walls
and bulge the closet door.
Don't think there's a spot
to store not even one more.

Look, there's that one
promised to meet in Atlanta.
Drove from Chattanooga, a no show
Felt like a rotten banana.

But, she didn't forget the sorry
oh no, she sent me plenty to use.
Made not a damn bit of difference
still got angry and had the blues.

And you, dear, got your sorry too.
All that braggin bout lusting for me
yet when I arrived early in Portland
at the door kissin him, passionately.

I threw many in the trash can
but you kept sending those regrets.
Told you can stop but they keep coming
as if you owed me some sort a debt.

And you, my friend, told you at the start
someone esle had a tight hold on my heart
but you needed the drama to be for real
sent sorries cause we remain far apart.

All these damn sorries are going out
to be dumped in the trash for good.
Don't know why I kept so many
never gave a damn nor understood.

But if you were really sorry
why send so many over to me.
You'd do better to change your ways
and live life more peacefully.

As for me. No more sorries at all.
Never again let them pile up like this.
From now on when I am in need
off I go to a visit to Poetic Bliss.

Del Cano 2005 Dec

Miss Smith's Diary

Oh my, I stumbled up
thought I needed some tea.
On the way to the kitchen
something came over me.
 
Deep in a misty fog
mind seemed to fail.
A rush overcame me
emotions on a sail.
 
What is this cloudy fray
making me drunk and weak
Driving emotions wild
passions to a peak.
 
Tea pot whistling
steam massaging face
Had to grab the counter
to steady and brace.
 
Sat down for a moment
passions rose to firey.
Ahh, dammit, got it now
that Miss Smith's Diary.
 
Del Cano 2005 Dec

Since I first stopped in on Miss Smith's Diary I have been a total submissive to it. She writes of her life and intermingles it with gripping stories of activities on the southern island on which she lives. From her intimate stories of the ghost in her house, the ghost busters she is working with, her lover who is feeling left out to an occassional poem anyone should find something to attract them back.

Her writings are a continious tale for the most part riddled with just enough sensuality to tease you and when she stops a story just at a gripping part you are begging for her to continue with it. Her attention to details is amazing and when her closest friends get involved there is a mix powerful enough to explode from the screen.

Go visit Miss Smith's Diary http://journals.aol.com/lasskk19/MsSmithsDiary/

Spencer

 

I Think of You When Alone

Lately round midnight
I awake from a fitful sleep
mostly nearly awake
never get off real deep.  

When I tire of the tossin
I get up and make some tea
then start thinking bout ...
well, there really is no we.  

But when I get lonesome
my mind drifts your way
start looking up poems
read the words you say.  

Why is it I search you out
when my aloneness sets in
Mixed in with the gulf shore
or even places I never been.  

Thoughts of pleasant walks
round a lovely pond or lake
sharing nature's glory
with the strolls we take.  

What makes me think of you
when time comes with me alone
Perhaps its the history
and that our friendship's grown.  

You have such pleasant ways
soft and tender is my thought
Never touched you but the spirit
is the one you have brought .  

Spose it doesn't matter why
there is no reason shown.
Know my thoughts go to you
everytime I am alone.  

Del Cano 2005 Dec  
 


 

Off To Poetic Bliss

When I step off into Poetic Bliss
great to know you're there
Emotions charged to the brim
passions freed like a flare.

Mighty good to know
we can share in this joy.
Scatter the pieces all about
like a child with a new toy.

Stepping thru that magic door
calls for a companion's hand.
So overwhelming it all can be
sharing is no less than grand.

Within those majestic bounds
one can love or touch and feel
Act on your wildest imagination
in Poetic Bliss nothing's real.

When one passes the very edge
and every one of the senses is right
Nothing better'n having you around
sharing in savoring the delight.

Oh, it can so wipe you out
shooting stars sailing by
Smiling moonbeams winking
those sunspots in your eye.

Can you imagine walking, alone
thru a huge maze of lust.
All those raw emotions cooking
frying you to a crispy crust.

Now and again we smile together
and nothings wrong with a kiss
Oh take my hand as we walk
stroll with me thru poetic bliss.

Del Cano 2005 Dec

Response To Phillip's Inquiry

Phillip

I appreciate you reading me in that ...that is the reason I post my poems so others can share in them and hopefully enjoy the creation. All of the writes unless noted are written by me. If the write was inspired by something someone else wrote I give the name of the write and the author of it at the bottom of the post as I did in this one. Sometimes I post collaboritive writes which creation was shared by me and another. In those cases I make note at the title level that this write is a collab and at the bottom I always add that person's name to make sure the readers know who shared in the creation.

I have written poems from the time I was a very young boy and have established a creative ability to write almost instantly in response to reading something, feeling a thought arise, an experience, a feeling, a passion or any of a myriad of inspirations.

You seem to be concerned about to whom I am addressing and what part you play in it. This write was strictly a direct response to the poem "Dream Giver" written by the writer who uses the ID  Dreams With Wolves. She prefers not to use her name on line. In her poem it spoke of all sorts of passionate feelings about a love with whom she shared but in the write she decided it was just a fantasy in her mind. That the loved one did not actually exist. That poem immediately inspired me to write somewhat of an answer to her poem.

As far as what part you play. You, as the reader, should allow yourself to wallow in the write, hopefully to grasp enjoyment and potentially see images which are familiar to you or just some wishful thinking. I have a most creative mind and most times a reader has no idea if I am writing to them directly or not but I normally design the layout in a way which would cause each individual to identify with the write. To me it seems more personal and more intimate that way. It allows all who read the write an opportunity to put themselves within the words and thus be a closer part of the creation.

Surely I write directly to some one at times but that person knows it is to or for them. On any write I may have a specific person in mind with whom I am speaking or directing the write to. Then at other times I am simply being creative. I can love, be passionate, yearn for, crave and use all of the human emotions to help portray a specific image. To touch people. To reach their passions. To make them think about a similar circumstance. Those type writes are my favorites in that
I am not only attempting to touch others but my own inner self as well. My writes are my attempts to spread joy, love, concern, passion, smiles, sensualility, to give an uplift to the reader as a relief from the rigors of daily life. I read other's writes be it prose or poetry and pull pleasures from them adnd hope mine does the same.

My wish is that you and others can use my poetry as an escape into another stage away from the normal often hum drum daily life. I am normally a loving, happy caring person who uses his art to touch people in a pleasant way. Then my goal has been reached.

Phillip, it is not necessary to know if a poem is directed to someone special. In that case consider yourself special if this write or any of mine has touched you in a pleasant way. Then I am happy. If you wish explainations on any write feel free to ask. I'll be most happy to fill in the background for its creation.

Do be blessed and keep reading.

Spencer

Note: Phillip was referring to the poem  Keeping the Dream Below.

Keeping The Dream

I so inhaled your words and felt there smooth edge
yet wonder why I'm banned to mere fantasy.
When we entered the bounds of love's valley
we were introduced to the blessings  of ecstasy.
Have I lived a lie in my mind's eye that we reached
on that day, the maximum, the epitomy of a storm
that swirling, blinding, volcanic twist of passion
which has kept me firmly wrapped in your arms.
Oh, please don't rock this explosive fevered dream
cause that day we met in the remnants of creative lust.
Tho our fire ignited from the drippings of our need
it became more than simply an intoxicant to us.
As plain as day I still see the sparks bursting
thru the darkness we invaded on that special night.
I have so many times retraced the trail of our venture
which remains my standard of love's sweet light.
My hands tremble touching the ski slope of your back
fingertips finding each delicious foray discovered
as I dive within the mysteries of your passions
could care less about tomorrow or if I shall recover.
Oh, sweet thang, deliverer of dreams come true
my lips and tongue continue tasting flavors you are
as the cravings rise to even higher levels unbound
my senses soar past the heavens to a lavender star.
While caressing your breast, the the desert of your neck
my own fingertips quiver with the outlandish thought
that this is not real, that we did not meet in a lover's dream.
That my senses simply crashed from imaginations wrought.
On my knees I beg you do not allow this, our legacy, to die
not one frame of our night in love's valley should be lost.
When you again open the door to our dreams details
we shall be together again at our whelm at any cost.
 
Response to Dream Giver by Dreamswithwolves
Del Cano 2005 Nov 
 

Cold December Night Air

On this cold wintry night
look forward to your embrace
as my whirling wind blows
can see the image of your face.

Know so well your warmth
ignites the embers in me.
The cold in my wind is heated
by you so magically.

As I kiss your window panes
begging to breathe on you
My soul hopes you show
and heat me thru and thru.

In knowing silence we share
the most intimate of a scene.
In winter's harsh cold air
your warmth is but a beam.

I so love to caress totally
as we exchange the sensual fare.
Me needing your warmth
while cooling your heated flare.

Oh, to just blow over you
caressing under your gown
The whispers we silently share
without making a sound.

Exploding my cooling touches
your heat turns to a flame.
My wintry harshness eases
with just the sound of your name.

I blow and blow that coldness
yet your heat is a sparkling flare.
Matters not if I bring snow, I'm warm
me, Cold December Night Air.

In response to In December by Vivienne

Del Cano 2005 Dec

 

 

 
 

Enhaling Your Words

 Oh, the morning staggers as I dress
preparing for me to enter the fray
As long as I can get a word from you
I know I'm going to have a good day.
 
From frazzled night to sunrise
I swam in the moment with you
feeling the lift and spread of your fog
laying softly like morning dew.
 
Your send off allows me to face
whatever there is in the way.
Boldly, I step out to the world
enhaling you thru out the day.
 
Del Cano 2005 Nov 
 
 
 

 

"Fusion" ( A Collab)

I thought of fusion between us
ten thousand unspoken pleasures
treats of a magnitude so great
far beyond ability to measure
 
What keeps me coming back
to you in these moments of time
beyond hope for tomorrows
our yesterdays filled with rhyme
 
Each eye contact adds more
to the pile we have in stash
and no matter the subject
fusion blows to passion's crash
 
Some sort of addiction, I suspect
an infusion I can't live without
a high that crashes heaven's gates
with desire permeating throughout

 Rising like vaporous fog
a cloud of lucious fumes
the fusion between us
rises like glorious blooms
 
We decorate the universe
with petals gently falling
rich with scent in rainbow hues,
and melodies ever-calling

 Sleep, an escapee of mine
desire wrestling with need
to hell with it all tonight
I'm wallowing with you, indeed
 
This thing's beyond my ability
to figure, reason, or guess
so in dreams I'll continue to appear
whispering one word . . . "yes"
 
 
DelCano, November 2005
Naia, November 2005
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Her Simple Pleasures

To drink in your laughter
to swim in your ocean of joy;
just to wallow in your sun rays
a blessed gift you employ.

Your worst days are great
ever beaming your light.
My day time is always full
and I so love your moon light.

A stroke of your hand
a finger on my face
a kiss from your lips
your soft flowing grace.

All of you work together
making life a pleasant foray.
Giving me the best of all
I love you more each day.

Del Cano 2005 Nov

Aint No Bell Which Rings

Aint no bell which rings
when trying to reach the spot.
That place we all hold secretly
a few don't admit they've got.

That special place sometimes
kept hidden quite deep away.
Often not admitting its there
knowing it appears some day.

Its the mind blowing scenes
we play in the crevice of our mind.
The ones we stroke and touch
of the most sensual and erotic kind.

Me, I aint shame. Go far it
reach and grab the one whose
been teasing my soul's edge
making sure to fully use.

I don't hesitate to go all the way
to make sure to fondle and touch
knowing she has stirred emotions
I've learned to cherish so much.

Aint no bell which rings
just that feeling rising to the top.
Till I can massage and fondle
its just a charge which won't stop.

Once its been satiated
all goes back to accepted stance.
Till it begs appearance again
for that secret yet special romance.

Del Cano 2005 Nov

 

 

Knowing You Are Near

Can't help but shudder with the thrill
of thoughts dancing in the night.
Now knowing I'm not alone in the dark
my secrets can shine out bright.

Search your soul to know my yearns
so easily can be pulled from your spark.
Softly like a fall morning dew spread
your spirit adds light to my dark.

Hover on as close as you dare
you can easily hear my heart's call.
As no less a tender turn be felt
from shadow brushes on the wall.

As far as the miles between us
nothing of it can be more clear.
As my stroking soul reaches out
in the knowledge you are near.

Del Cano 2005 Nov

 

 

Hearing Echos

As if I can hear the echos
that lonely droning sigh
folks rushing away
some not saying goodbye.
 
Like a swoosh
that gust of wind
some to places
aint never been
 
Advertising found in a basket
even in public bathrooms
slapping at us always
sweeping like brooms
 
Invasive, sure, no doubt
yet, I stumble thru it
as if it weren't there
ignore it, I just do it
 
Go to my place
starting to feel left out
spinning round and round
hearing a distant shout
 
Sounds of feet rushing
pounding a distant place
I keep hearing the echos
as frowns creep on my face.
 
Del Cano 2005 Nov
 
 

On the Beach

I walk the beach
alone tonight
hoping to see you
in the moonlight.

Fading in waves
a search inspection
mist approaching
only love's reflection

Ah, on the wave length
see your image appear
handily you rising
the closer it gets near

Arms outstretched
embraced close and tight
my hopes came true
on this moon lit night.

Burying your head
in the cavities of my breast
sharing greetings of love
agreeing at being blessed.

On that lone stretch of beach
we laid in the damp sand
Touching scrumptiously
with trembling hands.

You reaching for my skin
caressing lonliness away.
Kissing feverishly
on the beach where we lay.

Before long you begged
that our desire be consumated
thru this delusional meet
you just had to be satiated.

Sand seem to wear down
in this fantasy love stroking
the mist rising landing on us
helped to make sure of our soaking.

Breathlessly whispered words
flailing arms, legs and feet.
On the beach in moonlight
we sharing a lover's treat.

My own primordial bliss
sailing higher than the sky
you tasting me betwix your lips
surely we both took off to fly.

Promises to return
never to allow this to die.
Following your lead anxiously
as tear drops filled my eye.

Knowing full well this trip
is never to be returned.
yet right now, this moment
we've drowned our burn.

Delusions and illusions
spilled to a captive fray
as we both exploded
at night's ending day.

All the images remain
tucked safely in my night.
When walking on the beach
I smile in the moonlight.

Del Cano 2005 Nov

Provocative Kiss

Dangling provocatively, passion hung
till finally, we lay on a bed of stars
Heaven exposed us yet, invisible to the world
our romantic endeavors set us to char.

Romping thru all the heavens
sharing beyond even the divine
each stroke bringing on thunder
as if by some special design

Our moans carried thru shangri-la
in fact seemed inspiring to some prepared.
To soar thru the same processes
we floated upon being sensually paired.

No rumbling might ever match
that night of uncontrolled erotic bliss.
As we did in our trip the others followed
and it all got started with a kiss. 

Del Cano 2005 Nov

Incident At the Plumbing Suppy House

It was an odd situation to say the least. Today I decided not to shave which made my face look like one of the homeless men I see in the downtown area. My white painter's pants were already dingy from me being in and out of the ditch we dug to replace the drain pipes. I left to make a dash to the plumbing supply house to get some fittings in which we never quite settled on the proper name for them. Standing in line chatting with similarly dressed plumbers and handy men talking over the drone of the loud speaker. Order for A-1 Plumbing ready at door #2.  Leak Proof Handy Service your order can be picked up at door #3.
Suddenly, all sound became mute and the quiet was defeaning. Above all that quiteness Elain's voice said crisply, the computers are down again please line up behind check out counter #1 and you will still be waited on by the number you have.   An additional hush fell over the order counter area and heads turned in unison as they began to follow the entrance of a most startling speciman of a woman. From my vantage point I could only see the attractive face of a woman speaking on a cell phone. It was easy to see there was more to her than a pretty face cause all eyes were facing downward.

Being next to be waited on I was negotiating my order when suddenly the aroma of jasmine struck me and the sweetest voice said, honey, you left early last night. Knowing she couldn't be speaking to me I didn't even turn around. I was forced to when she grabbed the back of my shirt and kissed me on the cheek. As she handed the counter person a list she hooked my arm and helped to spin me around as I vaguely heard the counter man say pick it up at door #2. She lead me thru the gawking eyes of the crowd chatting furiously and obviously putting on a show for them. We had barely
gotten to the pick up area when she purred, "you are a good sport." Seeing the confusion on my face she started explaining. Said," Charlie knows with my body and this type outfit  I can always sneak my way up front and leave his order so when he comes by its ready."   Spose she was right. With those below the navel pants barely covering that seemly molded arse and the top which almost covered her breast her whole body seemed to be screaming, "touch me, touch me."   Thinking her little charade was over I headed to my van to load the supplies. She huffed, "you gonna just leave me here". Unthinking I quickly offered, "and what did you expect of me."Her grin turned to a huge smile as she sultrily batted her eyebrows.  "Baby, I am available. I love faces like yours and I know you'd love what I have to offer."   I said with a sigh," I'm not in  a position to help you. Have a good day." Her face turned ugly and penetrating as she blurted "no one turns me down. Who the hell you think you are." I broke out in roarous uncontrollable laughter which angered her even more. She spit out a tyrade of expletives as she finally walked away. I got in the van and headed back to the job site. All the time thinking bout how I am known to support women but this is one of those who helps to lay a lousy image for women trying to be decent.   As I scratched my unshaven face I'm thinking, yeah, she likes faces like mine.
Sigh!
Spencer 

Ravaged by Flu

As I lay in a stupor
sweating like an athletic star.
Nothing was quite clear
wondered where you are.

Days and nights drifted
had no idea the time.
Everything a riddle
not one simple ryhme

Saw you on a swing
me pushing you gently.
We had to be children then
playing so intently.

In this foggy trip
things seemed awry.
Saw you staring
looked deep in your eye.

Thought you were loosing
me, the unbreakable rock
Could tell the fear you had
how you were in shock.

Nothing seemed to work
fever raged its course.
My speech rumbled oddly
unrecognizable and hoarse.

I remember clearly
when I spoke to you
saying touch me, touch me
ahh, it broke, feverish flu.

Everyone is happier now
tho I'm tired and worn
Slowly returning to normal
feeling like a new born.

Yep, must admit
I was frightened too.
Imagining going someplace
where there was no you.

Del Cano 2005 Nov 

 

For Real Dreams

Thought I saw you last night
not where you normally be
had drifted to tossin and turning
till a dream half awaken me.

Lying in my near stupor
a dream came crystal clear
a scent brushed by me
one which seemed so near.

Trying not to be startled
I opened my eyes to peep
found you leaning over me
as I pretended to be sleep.

You would not have it
felt your mouth kissing mine
as your fingers treated me
like they used to all the time.

In my lustful near sleep
a sort of suspended phase
feeling the radiance of your heat
I headed to a passionate craze.

Locked in a loving embrace
you proved once more to be supreme
your hands like an octopus
driving my body to near screams.

Oh, the rustling we shared
every move as if from a script
I fell all the way off into it
as it seems the world had slipped

No explaination needed
followed your lead to a tee
wild and lustful pinings
grew fast and ecstatically.

Totally submerged in our lust
moaning and ponding galore
little screams shattered the dark
like a boat crashing off shore.

No idea how long you stayed
could barely tell the sun had risen
'cept for the striking lines
displayed like a prism.

I lay in wonderment asking
how a dream could be so real.
Till I tried to move and felt
as if you were with me still.

I argued with myself about you
so long since sharing your grace.
Was startled when passing the mirror
couldn't believe, a hicky on my face.

All day long I wondered
how could this really be.
Knowing you were miles away
could you have made love to me.

By evening I read a poem you wrote
saying, "life is never quite how it seems.
If you keep loving me, truly love me
we'll be joined at times in our dreams."

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Swell

I swell with each thought
the ones painting you.
The images of your light
and all for me you do.

I get all puffed just being
the receiver of your smile.
Dance within when caressed
in your magical style.

I can't explain to others
how you feed my soul.
Nor let them know
how our love got so bold.

I am forever in a state
of sensualities plight
a feverish warmth
you radiate each night.

Even if I shout
whisper in a soft yell
I remain fully engulfed
in your soft swell.

Del Cano 2005 Nov
 

River's Edge

Drove out 'fore daybreak
stood by the river's edge
watching the water flo
like it was heaven's ledge
 
I inhaled the history
as I am apt to do
swear an angel passed
looked just like you.
 
By then I had dumped
the debris my soul carried
after sunrise, I was filled
no longer need I tarry.
 
Drive home felt good
your smile lit the place
soft hum of the engine
put me in your grace.
 
When I reach that
quiet place as I do
its a known fact
can't help but think of you.
 
Del Cano 2005 Nov
 

Worn Corners of the Pages

On the worn corners of the pages
are earmarked spots I return to
and live again the joys and pain
life so gratiously put me thru.

The corners of the pages, worn
where the book of life's been read.
Folding back each page makes it easy
in locating all of what's been said.

I can visit with any good times
or sneak a peek in on the pain.
Easy to visit with sunshine days
or experience the storms again.

Every trip thru it allows
me to relive parts of my life.
Savor the years of loving
my children and my wife.

Can visit with my parents
even back to the grands.
The worn corners of the pages
mark parts of life's expanse.

Can see the steeple on the horizon;
the jungles of the Viet Nam war.
Can visit the rose garden we planted
or places where life left a scar.

Fishing trips all over the country
visits to other parts of the world.
Elation from promotions, successes
where I so danced and twirled.

Graduation days of my kids
walking down the isle at state.
So many visits of yesterdays
which so thrilled and satiate.

See myself telling Corporate America
so long for good and hello to my venture.
Buiding a new life on my own talents
a lasting and persistant adventure.

Burying beloved pets in the rose bed
saying good bye to so many a friend.
Time passing too steady and fast
I'm apt to wish to begin all over again.

Yes, the worn corners of the pages
tell a story of life for me and mine.
I'm so glad I can pull the book out
take a visit thru from time to time.

Del Cano 2005 Nov 

 

Love In the Wind

So precious, your warmth
can feel the vibes you send.
Your softness, like a feather,
just floats out in the wind.

Can taste your flavor
whenever I open my mouth.
And your pleasant scents
is ever radiating about.

There's a spirit I find
in everything you do.
Which washes over me
totally, thru and thru. 

I sigh within your aura
senses awakened by your beams.
Your love floats out in the wind
least, to me, thats how it seems.

Del Cano 2005 Nov

 

 

Renaissance

When I see you in my mind's eye
I see words peeling back the yin.
Scaling off the crusts from scabs
of lovers who once have been.

I see a soothing and an ease
a tenderness beyond my knowing.
A touch so deep with it
I'm left sighing and blowing.

I get from you all the missing
totally absent yearned for craves.
My mind submits to you for its need
cause you rescue and saves.

Without even being aware
I allowed your  touch its due.
What you see and call simplicity
I call the sanctuary of you.

You peeled back the layers
protection from hidden spears.
Caressed my soul with you
and washed away my fears.

Just by being who you are
you posted a blockade.
Protection from my ignorance
that personal prison I'd made.

Unassuming and forthright
bubbly and demanding a response.
Reacting to you has made a new world
sort of a modern day renaissance.

I breathe with more ease
exhale the poisoned air.
So enlightened by it all
life seems a bit more fair.

I dance in my mind
skip a bit when I walk.
Raise more than shallow issues
when I speak aloud a talk.

Oh, you special soul to me
I don't know how to offer an award.
I'm just in such a mental joy
my faith, within me, you restored.

DelCano 2005 Oct
 
 

 

The River Calls Me

The River Calls Me

I can hear the river callin me, softly.

I can already hear the reeds sing
multi-hues rustling in the breeze.
Hearing the water lap the rocks
harmonizing with the leaves.

Can feel the coolness in the air
swarming along the shore
as it gently touches my  face
I'll walk to its tunes and score.

I can inhale tomorrows breath  
exhale sorrows not yet seen.
Intimacies shared with the river
makes her a special queen

I can drop off the debris
which keep my shoulders bent
and actually straighten up, fully
for the time there I've spent.

Can allow tears to freely fall
the breeze drying them as I go.
So easily talk to the heavens
about everything I know.

She whispers seductively
like so many lovers do.
"Lover, I am here, always
will never forsake you.

I hear the river callin me, gently
I must go

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Photo by Odine Monet

Mind and Heart Ought To Talk

My mind and heart ought to talk
speaking my mind too fast
makes my heart have to deal with
stuff which should be able to last.

My heart knows its needs
as my mind does as well
they end up in a squabble
which causes me to swell

How can one keep a truth
as they fight between each
hearts and minds in a ruckus
at the podium ready to preach

Meantime life is a total mess
trying to keep a balance is rough
saving face and missing you
is just too far out,damn tough

How does one keep it
keep all in a neat box
when shyt is slipping away
and life's on the rocks

she is too good to give up
even with the flaws we know
can't stand the idea of her
out there alone on the go

all the yelling and pain
misconceptions galore
mind and heart squabbling
keeping my soul sore

oh hell, can't allow the riff
to be the parting phrase
need to anethesize them
so I can have better days

speaking my mind too fast
made her take a long walk
not knowing all of the answers
my mind and heart ought to talk

Del Cano 2005 July  
 

Enjoy It To The Max

Then you enjoy it to the hilt
there's no longer need to be coy
wallow on the bridge we've built
lets drench ourselves in joy
 
I explode from anticipating
any mail I get from you.
Living a teen's pure expectation
of refound thrills anew.
 
Still in a mode for recovery
a feeling of freedom and sharing.
A lover’s era of discovery
overwhelmed with so much caring.

Big sighs of exhaled joy
outstanding feelings of need
communications like a toy
as our cravings start to bleed.

You, my dear, enjoy it to the max
savor the moments sweet light
no one but you allows me to relax
once it gets to the dark of night.

Oh, you beautiful lady of love
you’ve blessed me beyond any dream.
Relentless passion from above
you treat me with love supreme.

Enjoy each moment we share
life makes no promise to last
Please know the depth of how I care
tho days seem to float by fast.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Wake Up America

We seem to be living in a fog
not seeing clearly like we should
Our concepts appear blinded
not as crisp as they could.

Raising lots of hell
bout Janice Jackson's breast
yet ignore more profound things
seem blinded to most of the rest.

Who is complaining bout
drug companies signs
whose advertising stretches
misleading our foggy minds.

Where is the passion to stop
the polution of our water.
As Congress reduces the laws
for industries private quarter.

Who speaks loudly for the children
the many who barely get to eat
and while they langer in need
we wear luxury on our feet.

Too many turn their heads
bout violence in the home
abusive folks spreading fear
and keep it on the roam.

Why don't I hear more rumbling
bout equipment the troops didn't get
driving round with "support the troops" signs
yet more like we did forget.

How can we imagine our government
giving tax breaks to companies like big oil
whose profits are now near obscene
as worker's budgets go to spoil.

We seem to have our priorities
turned round and upside down.
If the rich keep running amuck getting richer
many of us are not going to be around.

"Wake up America"
Del Cano 2005 Oct

 
   
 

Passion, Desire and Love

Spoke with Passion last night
to inquire of its intent to stay.
Passion referred me to Desire
to fetch answers right away.

Desire, with hands on her hips,
tossed her head back and spake,
"Love determines your condition
with Passion and Desire to take".

Love stepped in and orated
that she is built by the hour.
As long as Desire and Passion stay
Love is a lifetime flower.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Tryst In the Aisle

She spoke of desires hidden;
promises beyond winded sighs.
Lost in the mist of the forbidden
drowning in her begging eyes.

Whispered embraces lingered
eyes clashing to views spoke.
Moist lips craving to be fingered
tongues daring to provoke.

Her face lit up to testify
while pushing her basket thru the aisle.
Instantly, a subtle tryst did versify
as I continued to shop with a smile.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Might We Take A Walk

Might we take a walk
at least once around the lake
so I might enhale each nuance
as you make me palpitate.

Hand in hand to spend a bit of joy
sharing nature's artistry and peace.
Blooming flowers, rippling water
and you part of the visual feast.

So many flavors seem so fresh
such scenery feeds feelings and nourish
these yearns to share love's meal
and making passion's fever flourish.

Might we just take a walk
at least once round the lake
to feed the ecstatic nuance
and emotions to satiate.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Hair Blowing In the Wind

From the last depths of her mind
the quiet of her own thought.
She craves one final statement
to appease what she has wrought.

In the autumn season of life
winter creeeping quite close.
She's seeking a last symbol of youth
to tell all she's not yet comatose.

He children wish to question
decisions she's still able to make.
Appears their answer to every inquiry is,
always,"mom, for heavens sake."

Dear lady, speak clearly
respond to every word they send.
Go buy that convertible sports car
drive, let your hair blow in the wind.

And if you really wish to shout,
hey, look yaw'll, by Charlie."
You will really blow their minds
if you ride up on a Harley.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Can You Imagine

Can you imagine
they fearing me?
Me, whom they've kicked
unmercifully.  

Feet pressed
cross my head
tempting to deny
all I said.  

Can you imagine
saying 'bout me
while being held down
"I" am the enemy?  

I don't take funds from the poor
nor lie 'bout welfare cheats.
Give any amount to corporations
take the shoes off our feets.  

Can you imagine
they fearing me?
Me, whom they've kicked
unmercifully.  

Del Cano 2005  Oct  

To Kiss

To kiss a lovely mouth
strikes the strings of merry
All the joyful flavors
taste so richly berried.  

Relentless moments
exploding to bliss.
Passions igniting
with each exotic kiss.  

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Exploding Ecstatically

A circular dominion
flaying within its bounds.
Senses all scattered
mind in frayed rounds.

Scintillating fantasies,
swirling convolution,
the tornadic spin
an epic evolution.

Sensual pleasures
striking erratically
building to a crescendo
exploding ecstatically.

Darkness may ride the soul
within the fabric of lust.
Pleasures short circuit
morale protective crust.

That circular dominion
with its tornadic spin
allows an opening to erupt
and we to step right in.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Old Dream

By then the dream
got old like me
but kept alive
with persistancy.  

For years the image
held its own
from teenage years
well past grown.  

Saw the dream
hang on the wall
tho wearing down
would not fall.  

Pecking way at details
pieces still hanging on.
The dream stands firm
just like when was born.  

Now the dream
tho old as I
stands firm with me
seeing eye to eye.  

Del Cano 2005 Oct  

More Than Three Times Poured

I can't escape the tune
whose notes dance in my head
which seems to grow in volumn
with words you have said.

Dreams I dream of you
linger heavily thru out the day
while love continues its flight
in a rhapsody sort of way.

Each serene recall of us
designed by passion's score
awakens my body to the thrills
of enchantment kept in store.

Ecstacy rewritten time and again
striking those tunes so adored.
O love, mine breast be overfilled
More Than Three Times Poured.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Cast Iron Skillet

Grandma had some china
passed down from before
which sat on a shelf
just opposite the door.

Her dollies, starched
collecting gifts for years.
Each with a story attached
draped proudly in tears.

Yet, when grandma died
I didn't ask for her pottery.
Getting her cast iron skillet
to me, like hitting the lottery.

No better memory of her
than she cooking as if for a billet.
Stiring, sprinkling, shaking food
magically in that cast iron skillet.

Del Cano 2005 Oct
 

The Delta Moans

Collard greens
smoked neck bones
a common thread
for Delta's moans.

Rivers flowing south
depositing silt
brings with it traditions
that do not wilt.

Sweet potato pies
buttered cornbread
grandma's legacy
stuck in my head.

All the way from slavery
way past Jim Crow
keeping traditions
won't let them go.

Southern fried catfish
smothered chicken delight
cooked in a cast iron  skillet
heating just right.

Blackeyed peas
hamhocks afloat
allows the Delta
to keep its bloat.

Shanti shacks
hold back the rain
storms come and go
then return again.

Not much to  save
not a lot can we use
the Delta is definately
home to the blues.

Now every tradition
heard in Delta's moans
causes me to think
my grandma groans.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Jolting Emotions

As tho her hips
are blessed with history.
Each movement explodes
brings on stary ecstacy.

There's no less magic
in the taste of her lips.
Each kiss likened to
French Bordeaux sips.

Words have no capacity
to express the ignition of her touch.
Titillating is not sufficient
to splain vibrations and such.

Nothing compares to her
no smile, no touch nor taste.
I erupt in emotional flares
at just the sight of her face.

My whole being gets fidgety
from echoed visual clips.
Jolting emotions, erupting passions
arise with movement of her hips.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

Minority

I been knocking
knocking on that door.
Wearing down, bitterly
till my fist are now sore.

May as well give in
treat myself with disdain.
The trauma of the outside
drenches like cold rain.

Reckless laughter
jokes from the majority.
Deems me second class;
I am a minority.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

This Joy

This joy be mine
a song within my heart
learning to sing its salutations
chases music from the chart.

A song unsung
is like a picture not painted.
Notes stuck on the staff
leaves the music tainted.

Just like I shout the joy
love's music must be sung.
Adds to the preciousness
as it comes rolling off the tongue.

Each note speaks a phrase
a tune of its own scale.
As I spread this joy of love
my heart doth really sail.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

DWB

I been Black many years
gray hairs, a few wrinkles;
life's trials caused tears
to rise in little sprinkles.

Got all essential needs
nothing important I lack.
But how is it, my pleads
I'm stopped being Black.

In the eyes of John Law
I'm just another marked man.
Can't help but stick in my craw
spose its just in the plan.

Always a nervous situation
John Law with hand on gun.
Words teeming of trickeration
as if he hoped I'd run.

What the hell does it take
to stop this profiling smack.
All excuses turn out fake
'cept I'm driving while Black.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

 

Magnolia Hill

Your scents surrounds me
enhancing passions brew.
Senses awake from stirrings
of lingering thoughts of you.

My mind plays a scene
a repeat of dreams delight.
As stars twinkle on high
I long for you tonight.

The night seems to wear on
in a sensual basking glow.
Plays a tune of enchantment
you taught me how to know.

As I revel in this thought
that dream alive, so real.
No other encounter, so touching
as you, on Magnolia Hill.

Del Cano 2005 Oct

The Park Bench

Let me tell you a tale
one of sadness and woe.
Even I had a time believing
just how this story go.

I'm sitting in the park
on  a bench by the lake.
Reading a book of poetry
how Langston Hughes spake.

A ranger drove by
passed a time or two.
Then he stopped, got out
yelling, "hey you."

Aroused from my passion
deeply engrossed, you see.
Shocked into sudden realism
he screaming for my ID.

"What the hell YOU doing.
Bet you out here planning a crime.
Sitting out here on this bench
cause you aint got a dime."

Needless to say enragement
crept all cross my face.
What did I do to cause
this sort of disgrace.

He seemed to anger fast
cause my actions were slow.
Said, he aint taking no shyt
wanted to let me know.

I told him to arrest me
after he saw my ID.
That I would not accept
that sort of treatment of me.

He, obviously startled,
had made a wrong assumption.
My speech and presentation
killed his prior presumption.

Lookiing himn eye to eye
he realized a grave error.
Could tell from his demeanor
he should have acted fairer.

He spun on his heels
turned and just drove away.
Me sitting there in shock
facing a ruint rest of the day.

You mean to tell me
that it could seem a cinch.
I look like a  criminal
reading, sitting on a park bench.

Del Cano 2005 Oct 

First Place for Onions

First Place
By Spencer                                         
(aka, yeolecontractor)
Journal: Spencers Place 

Never included
with Fruit of the Loom
Often its juicies
extract tearful gloom.  

Crisp, sweet or pungent
stirs well with another root.
Adds a bit of power
like a kick from a boot.  

Much maligned but used
adds so much to a base.
Nothing else helps
to enhance such a taste.  

To some its sort of a muse
always to a cook, quite dandy.
I thrive when I add it to my meals
always got those onions handy.

Del Cano 2005 Sept                                      

 

You

You stir the strongest feelings
whenever you come my way.
You are the sunshine for me
even on the cloudiest day.

You bring a special sort of joy
no matter how I feel
and explode my senses
beyond the point of real.

You are the reason I function
with determination to succeed.
For thru all the pitfalls of life
You are the one I need.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

Reaching The Spot

She aches to know happiness
as troubling tides arise
and I bet she will one day
to her prayerful surprise.

Happiness shows its bloom
in forms returning again.
Not only in the opening rose
but in the softness of the rain.

Those little waves stumbling
thru the soul with delight
actually reaching the spot
are blooms on a starry night.

Sadness will be gathered
called out by its very name.
In the mirror of life
most reflections are the same.

We look past details
craving for what's brand new.
Often times missing so much
letting happiness pass right thru.

Have you ever looked;
keenly viewing the starry skies.
Might they be from God's face
you're seeing twinkles from his eyes.

Wipe those frowns from your face
take a hard look at what you've got.
The Nightingale, chanting divinely!
Certainly, every rose reaching the spot.

Del Cano 2005 Sept
 

What Makes Me Less Of An American

What makes me less of an American
because my skin is darker than yours.
I bleed the same as you do
when I'm hot sweat comes from my pores.
 
You told me I needed an education
so I graduated from every school.
Yet, now I'm faced with other excuses
making me feel more like a fool.
 
After struggling with corporate America
I set out to start a business of my own.
Yet you turned your back on me
barely even tossed me a bone.
 
I created jobs, more than paid my dues
and paid a hell of a lot of taxes
from my office not different than your
with computers, copiers, phones and faxes.
 
Even after thirty plus years
you barely seem to think I exist
but I remain a thorn in your side
with my determination as I persist.
 
What makes me less than an American
when do I earn the rest of my stripes?
What other excuses might I expect
to, as you say, stop me from my gripes.
 
Under other's names I've built your houses
helped build a prison with a lack of pride.
Yet, I am told I lack qualifications
as you set me and my company aside.
 
I've fought in your wars
as my brothers and sister did.
Still got the scars to show it
and I refuse to keep them hid.
 
While saying out loud
you can't find a qualified Black
even as the names, including mine,
get shuffled from the stack.
 
You bring in a young white boy
who can't cut a piece of wood straight.
Yet within a short period of time
he's got the keys to the gate.
 
What makes me less than an American
to be treated with so much disdain.
Tho I'm supposed to dance and smile
and not be allowed to show pain.
 
You grin in my face then turn your back
when I ask the question you know.
You're too busy to address my needs
and are always on the go.
 
You scream about "affirmative action"
yet you always use it for you;
telling me its not needed
there's plenty other things I can do.
 
When those with less determination than me
yell out and act against the grain
you stare in total disbelief
as if they are acting insane.
 
You hide behind a great ill
one which is no less than a lie
straining to be honest with your self
unable to look me in the eye.
 
What makes me less than an American
because my skin is darker than yours.
I find that same lie abundant
cross mountains from shore to shores.
 
Matters not how I act or what I do
your real vote remains the same.
You shut me out and close your eyes
and still often show disdain.
 
Seems to me my time served
these sixty odd years
should have by now given you pause
and relieved your long term fears.
 
Yet, my struggle goes on
I know nothing else to do 
but to keep on striving
to be an American like "YOU."
 
Del Cano 2005 Sept
     

Rythm and Blues Day

All week long hear today's pop
tunes just marking time.
Seems endless, won't stop
but not quite the songs of mine.

Can't wait till Saturday
my time for songs I love.
Others get their picks each day
Saturday the music comes from above.

Rythmn and Blues time, all day long
as I clean and cook my time away.
Hour after hour words to a song
remind me of a gone by day.

Shake it to the left then to the right
feather duster swings up and down.
Pledge on the furniture to its delight
as the dust rages go round and round.

A little glass cleaner on the mirror,streaks
I could care less than a damn.
As the music play, reaching peaks
my feet stomps with the drum beat. Bam!

Pinto beans and neck bones rattling in the pot.
Oversized meat loaf sizzling in th e oven.
Macoroni with three cheeses, piping hot.
Songs in the background speaking bout lovin.

Legs get all tangle, senses start to rise.
Done cleaned the house twice before I knew it
probabbly cooked more food before I realize
but on Saturday can never say I blew it.

Sing me a love song Sam Cook
and you too smokey Robinson
while Smokey builds a castle to the sky
Ray Charles talks about her as if her looked
Sade' sings so good and pleasing to the eye.

James Brown is beggin Please, Please, Please
BB King is talking thru Lucille
rythm and Blues puts the soul at ease
lets the mind relax, peace be still.

By the coming days end
Soul is renewed, ready for the week.
Can face what ever they got to send
its Saturday's Rythm and Blues I seek.

Del Cano 2005  Sept

Down Home Blues

Let me sing them down home blues
Delta's theme from heart ache and pain.
when I hear them blues, baby, I get
sunshine even thru down pours of rain.

I can walk a many mile
to find the music passion I chooe.
Hey yaw'll I gotta git up and holla
just let me sing them down home blues.

Harmonica out of the case
blowing a little scat-n-run.
Finger popping so loud
think somebody shot off a gun.

Damn Ma'ma, see ya up and shaking
rocking to the down home beat.
Everybody up clappin their hands;
can't a soul stay in their seat.

Let me sing some of history's songs
cram in some for all to use.
Delta's theme from heart ache and pain
just let me sing some down home blues.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

She'll Rise Again

Can she rise again? Tis not the question.
When, seems more like the proper stance.
Too much to lose or leave behind;
far too much history and romance.

We love the quaint cafes, the secrets
hidden behind many half closed doors.
The Big Easy, her quality stands firm;
blues and Mardi Gras oozing from her pours.

me thinks her skirts will not drag for long
and all the mud stains will be washed away.
Sweet southern lady, gumbo of the south.
Magnolia -honey air, will rise again one day.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

(collab with Naia)

Allow Me/Grant Me

 

          Del Cano 2005 Sept

          Naia, September 2005

 

 

Allow my dedication
my devotion to your heart.
Allow my cravings
which arose from the start.

 

Grant me the cool
of thy voice, whispered low
that I may savor
thy words as they flow

 Allow my caresses
the churning needs I have.
Allow tender touches
to your body like a salve.

 Grant me the soft

of thine hands on my skin

that I may partake

of thy soothe, yang to yin 

 

Allow my kisses
to draw you right in
to remind you of places
you've never ever been.

 

Grant me the fire

of thy lips' fervent graze

that I may tremble

at thine hunger ablaze

 

Allow my strummings
to raise your body's desire.
Allow my loving
to set your soul on fire.

 

Grant me the pace

of thy eagerness rising

that I may linger

in thy windswept sighing

 

Allow my sensations
to touch your body's pleasure
and bring on sensations
beyond your wildest measure.

 

Grant me the depth

of thy breath drawn in slowly

that I may forever

thy love keep as holy

 

Allow me to trigger
your most inner needs
as I'm learning to love you
just one of my pleads.

 

Grant me the pulse

of thy blood as it flows

that I may return love

to the one who bestows

 

 

Del Cano 2005 Sept

Naia, September 2005

 

Savoring Thoughts

Thoughts drift your way
as much as I can allow
yet images of you arise
thru that maze somehow.  

Clearly there's a connect to
at least a power of ten
cause when they are 'bout to fade
refocus all over again.  

Thoughts drift your way
and thrill my inner self.
Emotions reappear, even ones
on the back of the shelf.  

The managerie of feelings
choke off all reasoning.
Spicing the stew of thought
just like some erotic seasoning.  

The way they make me feel
like sipping from a savored drink.
A hearty serving of flavors
each time I chance to think.   

No less than intoxicating
those thoughts adrift your way.
As I intend to remain a gentleman
not one detail might I say.  

Del Cano 2005 Sept

Ole Southern Eatin Man

So tired of baked chicken
count tofu as something fake.
I don't mind tuna salad
but today I crave a steak.

Creamed beef might get by
for more palatable fair I beg.
Just a few grits and a little butter
topped with a soft fried egg.

Baked halibut for some will suffice.
I've heard it called a great dish.
For my taste buds nothins better
than deep southern fried catfish.

I eat broccoli, asparagus and such
even, at times brussel sprouts.
A pot of pinto beans and neck bones
will surely bring out the shouts.

Wheat germ bread is okay
pumpernickel, white, even rye
but a pan of buttered cornbread surely
satisfies the taste buds' eye.

Some stuff just may be cool
frozen yogurt is alright
but what's wrong with a scoop of ice cream
at least every other night.

Crumpets and tea might be sweet
or dessert I might just walk by
but how can you expect me to give up
both apple and sweet potato pie.

Fruit coctail and ginger snaps
don't take too long to get old.
An occasional pinch of ambrosia
has never hurt a soul.

Okay, okay, okay!

I watch my diet like I'm suppose
so please don't misunderstand.
Give me just a little slack, cause
I'm just an ole Southern Eatin Man.

Del Cano 2002 Nov

Clout?

Clout?

Who lends needles
to stitch this tattered day.
Who rattles beads
in a special healing way.

Where is the voodoo
the striking magic stick
the candle we all need
to burn a righteous wick.

Who, in breathess quiet command
takes the lead in stepping out
to reach those lost by nature's fury.
Who, indeed, has the clout?

Del Cano 2005 Sept.

Their Grief Stains

Their Grief Stains

Their grief stains
the snow white leather of me
and adds a crimson hue
to distant concerns for thee.

I stumble on my thoughts
in wondering what to feel
and question deep within
if this tragedy were real.

Within the depth, the crevices
my heart searches for a way
to align a comfort zone
for those suffering so today.

The loss, the tragedy
families swamped in pains;
homes gone, washed away
oh, how their grief so stains.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

This Day, Years Ago

This Day, Years Ago

Oh, this day seems to touch
so many of my hidden feelings.
Laying open some of the layers
as tho I was a fruit with peelings.

It scratched deep enough
to pull up scars of yesterday.
Still leaving me breathless
with many things I could say.

On this day I relive
the horrors and so much pain.
Perhaps that's why it was locked away
hoping I'd not revisit it again.

A decade passed quickly
while I kept my mind away.
Knowing sometime in the future
I'd recall the events of this day.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

She Cries In Pain

She cried out in pain
tho hunger racked her brain
her children still missing
no mom for hugs and kissing.

trips to the dome each day
seeking signs what others say
where are her children now
churning insides scream and howl

So much just washed away
normal life seems a distant day
the storm floated in on them
all she depends on now is "HIM"

Where did her children go
does anyone really know?
the situation is driving her insane
as she cries out in pain.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

You Call Me Refugee

You call me refugee?
I served your meals
washed your clothes
lotioned your babies heels.

And with them pennies
I bought myself a house.
My floors as clean as yours
you know I aint no louse.

You call me refugee?
I didn't make that dam spill
water ran over the city
just like it had its own will.

That water washed away my house
aint no money for me to run.
You left three days 'fore the storm
totting your suitcase and a gun.

How can you call me refugee
cause I got stuck in the city.
No food, couldn't afford gasoline
and you look at me with pity.

You danced to my music
shuffled in and bought me a drink
but when that storm bout to come
you gone quick as a wink.

Now you casll me refugee
cause I got sent up north.
All I owned wiped out, gone
gotta make a  new start.

Pardon me, but I aint no refugee
I washed and scrubbed floors.
Believed in working. I'm free
from seas to the other shores.

My belly hungers,I'm thirsty still
call me what you like or see
but don't you dare label me
anything like a new refugee.

This here land we share
or so I thought we did.
You upped and gone
or maybe you just hid.

A state line is not a border
nor a place to hide from me.
I crossed them lines too
yet you call me refugee.

I wonder everyday now
and pray you'll someday see.
I spent my whole life working
so why you call me refugee?

Written from the words of my Aunt Evelyn. An 80+ year

old  displaced resident from the horrors of the hurricane

and ruptured levee. Tho she has lost  everything one of

her most disgusting feelings is that she is being called a

refugee in her own country.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

Transition

Still feel the heat you radiate
tho a transition is in play.
The evening air is crisp
saying Autumn is on its way.

Summer shines her rays
lingering like an oven at noon.
Still it can't stop the inevitable
Fall will be here soon.

The last of the swimming,
leaves will change their hue
and grass needing to be cut
a transition as if all on cue.

I am milking each day
tho I look forward to the change.
No sweating or air conditioning
a less heated temperature range.

Oh  Summer Time, you smile
as you seem about to nap
till next year after Spring
snow melting from mountain caps.

Summertime passes on
awaiting much cooler days
till next year approaches
with its hot and charring ways.

Del Cano 2005 Sept

My Body Awakens

                                               

 

My body awakens
with the nearness of you.
It strikes a pose
with anything you do.

  My body yearns for
a touch of your hand
and stirs to a maximum
with all it can stand.  

Each caress swells
and rises to enflate.
Coupled with a kiss
you always satiate.  

My body awakens
with knowledge of you there
and always strikes a smile
cause you bring love to the air.  

Del Cano 2005 Sept

I Pray

Oh Lord, heal the land
and lives all torn apart.
Hear prayers of the many
needing you, restore their hearts.

We are just so worn
lost to a natural degree.
No where else to turn
Oh Lord, hear my plea. 

 

 

Understanding You/Others as asked by Gem

This is in response to Libragem's entry of the same name in her journal. Lots of questions I hope to address.  http://journals.aol.com/libragem007/JournallyYours/entries/826

How ironic I am up at the same time. Woke up feeling overwhelmed yet always planning the next step so things will go more smoothly. I am preparing a rental house to be livable so I can get Judy and I in it together to have some semblance of family life while our home is being repaired to a livable state.   Your questions: "what do you wish others would do to you (take that out, , or "for" you when something is going on in your life?    When is it not intrusive to offer help?   How would or how do I know when one going thru this needs help?   What kind of help can I do or should I do?   When is it gossip?   If I already know someone is having illness ...is asking  "How Are You?" still porper   Actually this is all about you.  

SPENCER'S COMMENTS:   When we suffer the loss of a loved one or finds one to have a serious or terminal illness or a long term debilatating illness I find some common desires I wish of others. To me, first and foremost, please do not offer help if you really do not mean it. You may have spoken out of pity or feelings of helplessness and the offer rolled from your tongue as a bit of chit chat which came from that awkward feeling.   Being helpful might include:  

- Look us in the eye. We are not lepers trying to steal  from you or spread some unholy disease or illness. We are/were normal happy people who became ill or crippled.  

 -Running errands for me. Once the home health aid has gone for the day Judy's health condition might be in such a delicate state that I can't risk leaving her alone. Even to the point that the doctor called in a prescription it might be too tenuous for me to leave even for a few minutes. I have to be creative and imaginative at times to make things work. Call a taxicab or order a pizza and have the delivery person stop by the pharmacy on the way with the food. I may have already eaten and don't want a pizza.  

 - Cook a meal and bring it. Send a pizza. Have a meal delivered. This provides relief of sorts no matter what the life changing event might be.  

- Be a willing listener. Often we just need to vent and get the traumatic feelings out. No arguments, no judgements, just listen. Often, tho many others live with similar situations, feelings as if we are the only ones who are experiencing this swell up inside.  

 - Be a friend not a distant former friend. Don't allow your embarrassment or feelings of pity to cause you to be distant.  

 - Do not pity me. Pity is indicative of lack of understanding and adds nothing to a relationship. The ill person as well as their care taker need to feel they are being bold, brave and progressive and pity only stems that growth and progress because it is like a mirror. It is as if one is being told they are so helpless or so sick there just is no hope. No one can live comfortably with out hope. Hope gives us something to look forward to. Hope allows us to establish and attain goals. No matter how small they may seem to others. We must reach goals to feel we are making progress. We don't need your pity to kill our hope.  

- Give 'em a little brake. We all need a little private time. Perhaps to go sit in the park. Take a ride. Window shopping. To go fishing. To take a walk. We all need some private time away from the ill person, the new baby or what ever. So, in your thoughts of help be willing to sit for awhile to allow the care giver some time.  

- Be dependable! Do not promise to do something and not do it. Both the ill person and their care giver are always emotionally charged and disappointments, no matter how small they seem to others, are traumatic to them. It may have been days since they needed to do something or to run an errand and your promise to do it is always a welcome relief and an appreciated act. Be dependable. Your promise to do it might have been the highlight of an otherwise dull or sad day. Your failure to fulfill your promise is just as depressive and maybe moreso. It might be a trigger to cause a deeper depressive state. If you dont mean it don't offer.  

- Call just to say, "I was thinking about you." We so often feel alone against the world because our lives are not normal as compared to others. Can't just up and go out with friends, shopping or to sporting events with family or friends. It takes planning.  

- Think about it before you act it or give it. Consider that the care giver and the ill person must do lots of planning before doing what you do as a matter of fact.  I recently had to speak unpleasantly with an acquaintance who thought they were being thoughtful and helpful. He gave us a gift certificate weeks ago to a restuarant he enjoyed. Yet, when I called the eatery, I found out the restroom was on the second floor level and the wheel chair ramp was in the rear thru an alley making it not conducive for me to take her there to eat.  He called with a frustrated attitude because to him he felt I was snobbing his good will when in fact there was no way we could use his gift certificate at that place. He had purchased it on his charge and it would not get posted until it was used. He meant well but never considered a simple thing like where is the restroom located which most of us don't need to consider.  

- Yes, you can always ask, "How AreYOU". Please do. It allows a little feeling that someone cares. We feel so isolated at times.  

- Don't be intimidated by health equipment like walkers, wheelchairs, canes, potty chairs, ramps, oxygen or the like. All these items make life easier for the ill person and their care giver. It may seem to you the house is like a hospital room but we live here and anything which helps us is good. It might be a little inconvenient to you. You are a temporary visitor. We are here all the time.  

- If you find something to complain about maybe you can help solve it. A neighbor noticed my grass was longer than normal so one day when I returned from work he had cut the grass. And we have a huge yard. He knew Judy had been having increased breathing trouble lately and figured I was too tired to deal with the yard. He was right.  

Finally, IT IS NEVER INTRUSIVE TO OFFER HELP BUT DO IT. HELP IS ALWAYS NEEDED. ASK IF YOU REALLY WISH TO KNOW WHAT HELP IS NEEDED.  

Gem, I appreciate the inquiry you wrote here and I hope my comments are helpful to you and allow a peep inside the world in which we live with major illness. It is always a draining event, a lonesome type situation, full of emotional highs and lows and any and all help is always appreciated. I use my lonesome time to spread as much love thru poetry as I can while she is asleep or in a state of non presence.  

Thank you for thinking about those of us who live in different worlds from you.
Be blessed.
Spencer       -