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The Four Faced Wind

Poetry by Valeria Castellanos

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Photo Art

Moon Turn

So, close your eyes,
Here’s a big surprise,
The moon has turned,
And, turned into,
An insect in the skies.

Locust in the day time,
Cicada in the night,
Spiders spinning,
Wasps are grinning,
Don’t turn out the light.

Ten thousand times as large as I,
What does she see, watching me, from the sky?
Am I as little, as a flea, as tiny a fly?
As invisible as a virus, to her insect eye?

Owls are in the treetops,
They do not stop their howling,
Wolves are up at midnight,
And, stay busy disembowling.

Bats are swooping,
Bats are flying,
Moths with burning wings,
Are dying.

Don’t tell me that I have to stay,
Don’t say that I can’t run away.
All the birds have taken flight.

I’m hearing ghosts, in my blood tonight,
They’re brawling, calling, scowling,
They will not go back, into their grave.
They’re screaming, boiling, growling.
They’re not being cool, but they’re being brave.
Rapping, tapping,
Giant wings are flapping,
Whiplash, antennae flash,
All my teeth are chattering.
The mandibles are clattering,
Yet, somehow, still, the moonlight is,
Both beautiful and flattering.

Incessant sounds, disturb the grounds,
They reside inside, the moon’s new wings.
They will not stop, though the beetle sings,
The sagebrush stings, and the brittle sands,
Rage beside me, So, hold my hands.
I’m sure the moon, will set pretty soon.

And, when she lands,
She’ll release all hands.
Then, suppose the insects all jump down,
Land on your land, on your lawn,
In your town?
If some of them come,
To where you already are,
You should run away, real quick,
And, run away, real far,
In a boat, or on a goat,
On a bike, or in a car,
Or, maybe you could hitch a ride,
On the nearest passing star.

With a sense of fun,
The sun has spun,
A web the same size,
As the solar system.
The Milky Way had the same idea,
And, that is why she kissed him.
They both play the very same game,
And, they play it in,
The very same way.

Whether or not, you come or go,
Regardless of the news,
Or the talk, or the show,
You know, they are the ones,
Holding all of us together,
In spite of static, interference,
Or, intergalactic weather.

We are watching the inside, and watching the outside,
And, watching everyone of the multiple levels,
All of the angels are starting to sing,
And, also all the devils.
With biting, bitter venom,
Or a neat, sweet, grateful heart,
Everyone of us is just waiting around,
For another world to start.

Time Travelers

Time travelers,
Let’s synchronize.
Close your eyes.
Reset.
Preset.
Don’t get upset.
Just go back.
Stay on track.
So, much easier than going into all the possible futures.
Maybe we’ll try that next time.
Anyway,
Yesterday.
And, the day before.
And, many more.
Back so far you can’t remember.
Back to the beginning.

A thousand years ago.
I don’t even know what people are saying.
Even people who say they speak English.
But, I understand human nature.
And, I understand the birds.
They have not changed.
They understand me because I sing without words.
They think I am the village idiot but,
They don’t dislike me because music soothes even the savage beast.

Three thousand years ago,
We are trying to make paper.
You can write on a leaf but,
Leaves don’t last.
They fall apart in the time capsule before the future ever arrives.
All too quick.
Still, things are where they should be.
The fish still swim,
And, the flowers bloom.

Forty thousand years ago,
We are painting on the walls of caves,
And, the aliens are here,
Mining gold,
And, playing around with our DNA.
They eye me with suspicion.
I sit around the campfire and try to act like everyone else, counting my toes.
The plums taste like plums.

Two million years ago,
Lucy is foraging.
The weather is unpredictable.
The land is not where it was in the future,
And, the only thing I understand is the wind.
I do not want to go back further,
Because I am only human.

If you don’t mind going further back than that,
I’m still a little curious and wouldn’t mind a chat.
I could meet up with you at:
Time Travelers next meeting will be held on
Wednesday of last week at 7 pm.

To NYC and Back

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“Improbable Paradise” Digital Art – Photo Art – 9/11/2018

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