On Stars That Twinkle

When Mind is baked,
time Thinkles
When it rains,
the puddles Plinkle
when we cry,
eyes blink and Winkle
lose your mind - go see a Shrinkle

The beer we drink
goes Drinkle-drinkle
Addiction makes
our chains go Clinkle
Make a wish
on stars that Twinkle
wash the dishes
in the Sinkle

pocket change
goes Jing-a-linkle
All of life happens in a Blinkle

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

50-card Steve

There goes 3-card Mike
with all he can fight
when he left yesterday
he shoulda went right

And theres 5-card Billy
with 7-card Jack
they both get silly
smokin' that crack

And Alabama Chuck
has been down on his luck
he shoulda played Razz
instead of 7-card Stud

But they all have something in common
when they all pack up and leave-
They never had a clue
while playin' with 50-card Steve,
that he always had you

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

And Time, A Burning Flame

When I was young and playful
the future seemed so bright
there were songs that we sung
and days were always nice
Eternal it seemed
was the light in your eyes
The dreams in my nights
The soft clouds in my skies
But now the sun is setting
and the world is not the same
Now people are strange and funny
like the cities and their names
Now the gambling men are betting
and I must play the game
My Life's a melting candle
and Time, a burning flame.
-April 11th,2008-

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Warmth Into Frost

When you ignore your Heart
all that you do will never be enough
When we don't pay attention
to the wordless thoughts
it ain't so tough
to get caught up
and latch onto irrelevent stuff
...and what's the cost - what's the cost?

When you're playin' high stakes
Gambling with Fakes
and the world takes
your Warmth that burns
and turns it cold
like a Frost...What's the cost?

What's the cost
when
it couldn't be clearer
that the one in the mirror

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Like Cigarettes

...Her complexity still lures suitors;
She goes through men like cigarettes
Savoring each puff
until her personality has burned them up
As if she was the Sun itself, and they,
like Icarus, got too close.
When she's done with them she smashes them
Along with their paper-mache self-images
Into an ashtray with a single destructive finger
Or flicks them onto the ground
...Or even shorts them,
and sets them aside somewhere
To finish later...
Always with the cool,
predatory, and mysterious
calm composure of
A real Lioness...

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Poet's Graveyard

On the hills thick fog creeps along
the haunted soil of your grave
Ghostly birds sing misty, morning songs
-there's nothing left for you to crave

Mourning you - your friends you knew
dragging solemn shoes across the morning dew
crickets chirp in the gloomy mood
all is bad - all is good

Death stands nearby, with scythe - in black hood

Your final bed's headboard made of rock
in daylight hours - in moonlit storms
defeated skeletons of trees above you mock
your bones that feed the flowers and worms

All is bad - all is good
Even the Poet is a slave
wrapped in coffin-blanket made of wood

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Scream As They Are Stolen

Pulled from an eternal nap, we're torn
from sweet serenity - we're born
screaming bloody-murder, and gasping
in the horror, and to our previous life, still clasping.

Screaming infant in pain; paralyzed;
same old soul, but with a new pair of eyes-
Somehow remembering who we were before
and why; letting go of a Self, and screaming
'till all memory has passed-

A newborn baby's tears are waves upon a new life's shore-
Somehow so sad to leave all the 'one-and-only's behind;
Best friends; mothers; a husband; a wife;
Bloody-murder scream as they are stolen by ancient wind
-So sad to say farewell
to friends in the Attic of the Past
and, in a new life
go further down the Eternal Stairwell.

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The River Is Never The Same

Buddha Universe of Good
Embodiment of Peace, purely understood
All things come, and instantly have passed away
Right Now; Tomorrow; Yesterday

Gaze upon the world - your soul is Awake
Meditate until the Ego breaks
You cannot die if you were never born
and this is true, the Quantum Buddha has sworn

The river is never the same
As the pages turn they wear away
Oblivion and Death are the kindle and flame
to Life itself - in it's endless Forms and Names

The River is never the same
as the pages turn they wear away

The waves crash on but, the Ocean is Still
In dreams we're Asleep, but also Awake

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Have You Ever? (Questions)

Have you ever bent over to pick up a few cents?
Have you ever been tired and short on the rent?
Have you ever stolen so you didn't have to pay?
Have you ever been hired and fired, same day?
Is your life just a race
In a worker bee's hive?
Were you born into death?
Can you say you're alive?

Don't sell your soul for possessions you don't really need
In this world of obsession - in this world of greed
Look into a mirror - tell me what do you see?
Is the death of your dreams worth security?

Some questions have answers, and others do not
The important thing is that the answers are sought
Do you fall into place and do as you're told?
Do you still own your soul, or is it already sold?

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Response To Maya Angelou

And a man in a room can be a caged beast
where Death himself has come 'long to feast
upon his soul, so he's never pleased
And he longs for what? He can't be sure

For a man in a room can get up and leave
but chooses to sit and cry on his sleeeve
A slave by his own choosing, but he will not believe
when you tell him theres something more pure

He'll look at a lake and swear that it's dry
With dark clouds in his mind
his eyes can't find the sky
His worries prevent him from seeing just why
He has shackled himself with invisible chains

He'll look out his window but only see his reflection
He's all about appearances and passing inspections
He may see the mistake, but not know the correction
or be able to tell his Heart from his Brain

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Quesada
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!