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