The Cordell
She stands alone,
In the autumn rain.
Watching her life walk away.
The soft thud of,
Slowly disappearing dreams,
On the street.
Dreams muffled,
By the autumn rain.
Slowly fading in the twilight.
He won't look back,
There is something in his eye.
The autumn rain.
A voice deep down says,
Turn around you fool.
As the autumn rain falls.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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Mass Suicide
A swarm of africanized honey bees,
Decided to commit suicide,
Because their queen told them,
It would be the fastest way to heaven,
And they would be enlightened.
Quickly, a scout found the source,
For their demise, and returned to the queen,
With the news, who instantly ordered,
All drones, breeding males, and all ladies,
In waiting, to follow her.
Swarming in the sky they located the subject,
Of their ignominious ending and all proceeded,
To vent their rage upon the man walking along.
Once only once they each stung him,
And fell writhing to the ground.
The man was stung several hundred times,
And unwittingly had become the last casualty,
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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The Croaking Toad And The Leopard Frog
The croaking toad and the leopard frog,
Were drinking beer on a hollow log.
And the croaking toad said, you're my best bud,
Man you can really hold your suds.
And the leopard frog replied in kind,
Another friend like you, I couldn't find.
You're my best friend when skies are grey,
You're by my side come what may.
I'd rather drink my beer with you,
Than catch blue bottles the whole day through.
Let's drink one more to the breaking dawn,
While we listen quietly to the crickets song.
But the croaking toad said I must go,
I'm very sleepy and the cock just crowed.
I'll see you tonight for a cold one or two,
I really love this black swamp brew.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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Jacaranda
Purple majesty framed in the sky,
Like a magnificent painted cloud.
There is not one that can deny,
Your beauty as you stand so proud.
There is no tree that can compare,
And few there are that can keep in stride.
Your'e Helen of Troy, a beauty so rare,
Blushing purple, a most lovely bride.
Royal thou art, and I can attest,
Thine purple beauty is so unique.
Head and shoulders above the rest,
Only a fool would dare critique.
Thine beauty makes the birds entone,
While in thy shade, they do repose.
The most beautiful, harmonius, heartfelt songs,
Tiny feathered poets, reciting prose.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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Honor And Courage
In Japan, they write on rice paper,
In America, we write on the sides of buildings.
In Japan they honor their elders,
In America, we rob them on buses,
And abuse them.
In Japan there is great love for their country.
In America, people are refusing to stand,
For the national anthem.
In Japan, men are volunteering to die,
Without a second thought,
To give up their lives,
To save their fellow citizens.
Oh yes, you'll say, the Japanese are great,
At dying, at suicide missions.
But is that the point?
Shouldn't the point be,
The Japanese love their homeland,
The Japanese love their own people,
The Japanese love their way of life,
The Japanese love their traditions,
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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Underneath The Jacaranda Tree
On a windy day, I saw her standing there,
Underneath the jacaranda tree.
With purple blossoms in her hair,
Amidst a purple sea.
The purple reflected in her eyes,
As the clouds went rolling by.
I swear I could hear the angels cries,
From heaven's throne on high.
Underneath the jacaranda tree,
A little fountain ran.
With crystal waters running pure and free,
The purest in the land.
In the fountain she dipped her hand,
In crystal waters cold and fine.
And let water drip on the sugar white sands,
Long ago when she was mine.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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The Musician
I don't like to brag,
And I never will.
But I play the guitar,
Like moonshiners play a still.
There really is nothing to it.
I'm just a guitar man.
I was born to play the six string,
And I've got a lot of fans.
You will never know me,
Because I am a lot of men.
Many names are in my pedigree,
A dozen men I've been.
I only play now, for my friends,
And for my family.
There is a sorrow that begins,
Inside my memory.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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The Fairy Folk
In the hollow of the oak,
Waiting patiently for night.
The fairy king and fairy folk,
Watch the quickly fading light.
Inside the giant oak they wait,
For their time will soon be here.
With the moon and mist they have a date,
To ride the moonbeams that they hold dear.
The night arrives and the fairies fly,
On golden moonbeams they spread their wings.
Joyously reaching for the sky,
Bringers of dreams and all good things.
The fairy king upon a limb,
Holds court for his subjects every night.
In a hidden corner where the moon is dim,
Till the early morning light.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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My Wife's Only Rival
I've stood bathed in the limelight,
Standing listening to the screams.
My guitar and I soared to the heights,
Yes I have lived my dreams.
Up on the stage Robert and I,
Drove all the teeny boppers wild.
While she tried to hide from my brown eyes,
So long ago my woman child.
All over we played, reached number one,
When most of you weren't even born.
And then one day it came undone,
And I was broken and forlorn.
The band broke up, I lost a girl,
One that I never could say was mine.
So I went back home to my little world,
Back with my people, my own kind.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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A Frog And A Toad
A tiny frog on a lili-pad,
Was so depressed she felt so sad.
She wrung her hands and racked her brain,
And said to herself, I'm going insane.
I'm in love with the toad that lives next door,
When my dad finds out he'll go through the floor.
And I can't imagine what mom will do.
My black and green will be black and blue.
While she pondered on, the snake swam by,
And the little frog uttered a sigh.
She asked hey snake what would you do,
If you were in love with a toad like lou?
The snake replied, I'll tell you what,
You really put me on the spot.
A frog I could love, a toad too fat,
I'd rather be seen with a rat.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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