Monday, April 25, 2011

Somewhere In Between

Tonight someone took a break from the
doom and gloom on the nightly news, took
one last sip of coffee, and
strolled across town to see the house he grew up in. 
Nothing was different, except the
colour, the
new fence, the
family now living in it. 
But it was still the same old wooden house;
and as nostalgia settled in
and tears rolled down his face,
 his soul smiled.

Tonight a stranger’s day was brightened
with nothing but a
look and a smile. 
Sometimes we
forget where we are,
who is near and
what’s at stake
and for a moment
we allow ourselves to
feel like Atlas. 
We let the weight of the world
rest on our shoulders and
 it’s on days like those that
sometimes, all it takes is a
look and a smile.

Tonight in an alley a
few blocks down,
someone got robbed.  And
as a young man sprinted off into the night,
the police gave chase. 
It’s a frightening truth to
face that times are changing, when
not too long ago anyone could
walk around until
the wee hours of the morning.   
But jobs are
increasingly harder to find,
and it’s so much easier to
take from someone who already has...
and sometimes has very little.

Tonight, friends are singing at the
top of their lungs as they
walk home drunk,
holding hands,
reluctant to let go of the
good times they’ve just had
before they must retire to
one bedroom apartments,
6am wakeup calls
and a day spent at a
nine to five
before they can all meet up again.

Tonight, on a deck,
in the middle of a subtropical jungle,
a boy counted
205 shooting stars
in the span of 2 hours; and
for every single one of them,
he wished the same wish...  
Now, this is not the
typical wish made by a 9 year old... but
this is not your ordinary 9 year old. 
Behind his
boyish excitement and
the warmth in his eyes
is a heavy heart. 
A heart weighed down by
civil war and genocide,
a heart with but one wish:

Tonight, a mile above the Atlantic Ocean,
in anticipation of a
forthcoming inquisition,
a young man dreamt of freedom;
freedom from biases,
or prejudice. 
At this precise moment, a
young woman also dreamt of freedom;
freedom from mental and sexual slavery. 
And at that very moment,
two perfect strangers from
very different clans
found Nirvana
and were reborn.

Tonight after many reclusive years,
running from his fears and
painful memories, after
many nights spent on
park benches,
warmed only by the
thought of home
and a flask of whiskey;
 after many months bouncing from
odd job to odd job with
no care for a stable future;
after one too many bar fights;  
the prodigal son found himself returning home.

Tonight two lovers’ eyes
glisten in the moonlight,
their skin becomes electric with
every caress, their
lips beckon for more with
every kiss, their
souls collide as they
stare into each other’s eyes and
a void is filled
as they share the same bed for the first time.

Tonight someone gently brushed the
long brown hair that
covered his loved one’s left ear as he
whispered three tender words,
but despite his expectations
she hung her head and
wept, as she
confessed a secret kept.
Tonight a man got his heart broken

Tonight, from behind a chain-link fence,
three dogs serenaded a
red, glowing full moon with a
crescendo of howls, and they
could care less about the
angered neighbours or their
yelling owner
begging them to stop. 
they were too busy
beckoning the sun’s reprise.
Tonight, somewhere
half way around the world,
it’s now morning.

Tonight a man heavy-footedly walked away from
the round table he sat at, while
five other men drank, smoked, and laughed...
he thought of
how he would tell his
wife of 33 years that
he’d just lost their life’s savings at a
game of cards.

Tonight, on a train going somewhere,
a mother breastfed her month old child;
some smiled,
some were disgusted by the act,
others were oblivious... but the
child could not be bothered.  She
simply fed;
careless and
to be so innocent...
so unaware of
worldly challenges; of
rising costs and stagnant wages...

Tonight the dust was blown off the
face of an old LP, and as
the sitar on track one of side two
echoed across an empty room,
a man remembered that
we are all one and
life goes on within us
and without us.

Tonight, the police gunned down a
14 year old boy as he
ran from a crime scene, and
as he laid there in a pool
of his own blood,
clasping 5 dollars in one hand,
and a cell-phone in the other,
I can’t help but think of the irony...

Because tonight,
8 blocks to the east,
in an old wooden house
in the middle of the city,
as a man stares from behind a picket fence,
somewhere in between
a whisper and a dream,
a child was born.

© José V. Guerra Awe

Thursday, April 21, 2011


El sol
Me dio la vida
La luna
El fuego dio
El viento
La lluvia dio
La tierra
La montaña dio
Su fortaleza
El loto
La marea dio
El vaivén
El volcán me dio
La selva
Su energía
Y tú me diste

© José V. Guerra Awe


Without a sail
Longing for the sturdiness
Of a shore
I am a wandering driftwood
Commanded by the tides
I willingly succumb to the
Constant ebb and flow
The rise and fall
The might of crashing waves
Tempests often change my course
Reefs impede my navigation
And though unscathed
Resolute and enduring,
I am humbled by the depth
Of the oceans everlasting wisdom
Awakened by the setting sun
I await the guidance
Of the loyal stars
And even though
My wandering eyes
Hunger for the coast
I’m content to be

© José V. Guerra Awe

Sunday, April 17, 2011


La marea
Empieza a consumirse
Las insignes huellas
Que has dejado
En las dunas
De mi corazón
Y en el desengaño
De la arena mojada
Resucita un viejo llanto
Me posee la nostalgia
Al recordarme
De tu rostro
Al mirar la gente
Subir y bajar
Del autobús
Al mirar la gente
Ir y venir
Como la marea
Cada persona
Borrando la huella
De la anterior
Y de nuevo
Resurge la nostalgia

© José V. Guerra Awe

Friday, April 15, 2011


Hail to you seductress
Who so boldly shines forth into the twilight
Who commands the ebb and flow of the tides
Who incites all wild creatures to be free
In your undying passion

Hail to you oh temptress
Who with your glowing luminescence
Awakens the midnight hour
Who with your gleaming visage
Illuminates even the heaviest of eyes
You who have inspired sonnets simply with your smile

Hail to you oh holy satellite
Who faithfully guides the farmer’s hand
You whose radiance facilitates a lover’s serenade
You who whether full, half, or crescent
Compels me to adore you!

© José V. Guerra Awe

Jugo de Lima

Más allá de los muebles
Y los retratos,
 Detrás del cristal de la ventana,
Fluyen las ramas de un pequeño limero.
Ellas bailan,
Como si al compás de la guitara
En una pieza de Jobim
Y con su sensual balanceo
Me incitan a mover los pies
A la cadencia de esa dulce
Bossa Nova
Que le toca el viento.
Sus verdeantes manos
Me llaman hacia
Su espléndido rostro.
Me seduce
Con tan solo una mirada.
Me profesa su amor eterno
Al ofrecerme la agrura de su
Y no se la niego.
Saboreo la ternura
De su cuerpo viviente.
Tomo de su sangre vigorizante
Al hacerme un fresco
Jugo de lima.

© José V. Guerra Awe


A nightmare gallops,
From behind the shadows,
Across the muddy fields
Of my consciousness,
Like a war horse
Charging into battle,
Trampling all sense of hope.
As each coronet sinks into the dirt
My core rattles;
I quiver...
The cadence of every fourth beat
Beguiles me,
I’m paralysed;
At every suspension
My heart seizes...
I anticipate obliteration
As she stampedes toward me.
But with every break
In her thunderous gait
I begin to realise that
My insecurities are her farriery
My fears are the hay
That fuels her brio
My odium is the dam
That birthed her.
She rears before me
But I’m unfazed,
As she settles
I embrace her.
She is green...
I mount her
Grasp her mane
And suddenly,
The nightmare
That once evoked
A bitterness within me...
This shadow
That once made me cower
Is now the source
Of my enlightenment
And slowly,
Then a snip...
Then a blaze...
I find myself mounted
On a white steed
Of illumination
And just before the dawn,
I sleep soundly

©José V. Guerra Awe

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

La Paz

Quizás he caminado por tus calles
Ciegamente acumulando tus detalles
O tal vez te he pasado en un pasillo
Donde se rozo tu brazo junto al mío

Quizás jugamos juntos como niños
Y cruzaron por casualidad nuestros destinos
O tal vez vivimos juntos en algún pasado
En un tiempo que no fue el apropiado

Quizás nacimos del mismo estuario
Dos peces embotellados en el mismo acuario
O tal vez te he soñado por una eternidad
Deseando que tu caricia se convierta en realidad

Y aunque pase mil siglos añorando
Tu rostro siempre me estaré imaginando
Al caer una estrella fugaz
Siempre deseare la paz

© José V. Guerra Awe

Tuesday, April 12, 2011


It rises from beyond
The mountains adorning the horizon
Reminiscent of childhood memories
Dragons, giant turtles, pirate ships
Futilely I attempt to decode
This smoke signal
Seeking atonement,
Recollection of a moment past?
This language fell victim to attrition
Many moons ago
Along with milk teeth
And childhood innocence
In lieu of this
Primordial intelligence...
Try to decipher
The significance
Of this nimbus omen
But I was not meant to understand
Merely to observe
Left only to admire
As it shape-shifts
And transpires
Into its true form
Perhaps cleansing
Is imminent
It looks like rain...

© José V. Guerra Awe

Monday, April 11, 2011

Obertura 1812

Tirado en el piso
Brazos extendidos
Como las alas de un albatros
Que vuela sobre alta mar
Siento como si estuviera
Suspendido justo por encima
De la realidad
Oídos a la tierra
Siento mi latir seguir el ritmo
De los cañones en la
Obertura 1812 de Tchaikovski
El ventilador  tiernamente
Acaricia mi espalda desnuda
Su brisa fluye a través
De los filamentos gruesos
De mi pelo negro
A dos metros,
Un pequeño batallón
De hormigas carpinteras
Marcha a lo largo de las
Ranuras de las baldosas
Cada cañonazo
Resucita un remordimiento
Cada latido
Suelta una pena
Y de repente,
Me siento como Gulliver
Atado por los Liliputienses
Cierro los ojos
Y en la oscuridad,
Me miro tal y como soy
Con todas mis inseguridades,
Caídas… imperfecciones
Recuerdo lo que con gran pasión
Una vez defendía y valoraba
Me doy cuenta
En la claridad de mi desnudes,
Sobre el caos de los latidos del cañón
Nacidos del altavoz en el salón,
Que la paz que siempre procuraba
La claridad que siempre yo deseaba
Estaba siempre dentro de mí
Y sobre el piso frio,
Con cada cañonazo
Cada latido de my corazón
Me siento… libre

© José V. Guerra Awe