Getting married is quite easy in my opinion. The true task is understanding that LOVE is a living breathing thing that must be tended to and cared for every single day; staying married is the true test. Tomorrow is not guaranteed to any of us. Live, Love, and Laugh as if all you had was today.... -A Poem for my Wife- Falling (every time like our first) After every time, I envisioned two wondrous comets having chased one another through the heavens for an eternity finally finding the same space as they begin to spiral around each other as They come together as one brilliant flash of blinding bright amber breaking through the earths atmosphere in unison finally breathing precious air for the first time together in the dark indigo night's sky, We make Love...

Black Officer: Here you stand before me Clothed in the darkest white this world Has ever known. Robbed of your innocence Conditioned to hate the Color of skin yet, If called upon to come to Your aide, I would do so hoping that My kindness would Exemplify a love that Transcends small differences Such as the color of our skin. Child: I've placed my hand upon This shield, Though too young to understand I, Know that this barrier Between you and I has Become tangible I wasn't born to hate you but I hear repeatedly about how White is pure and good and You are not white I'm told that I, by nature, am superior Why is the world Presented to me Rich in hateful ideologies that Keep us from Removing this barrier Allowing love to prevail I do not know what Hate is but, I'm told that I Should hate you...

That memory remains- smell of Three Kings incense dances harmoniously with the rich scent of a hand rolled cigar, Florida Water, and Bay Rum. Things go bump in the night yet, you felt so calm, so familiar. An energy born of love and compassion; a spirit whose righteousness served as a guide to my grandmother's gentle hand at the white table. More than a medium, Many claimed She was an angel of mercy- A taker of pain A giver of hope...

Learn to dream with your eyes wide open; the path is much more lucid when you figure out that you can keep moving forward even through the darkest of shadows.

Love is having the courage to hold hands and face rough seas together knowing that the storm will be but brief. Hold on to one another; the journey is much sweeter when you have someone to contemplate the sunset with. "Forever" (an acrostic) Frequently I think Of your scent. Remembering how sweet Evenings always ended; Vexed at having lost you- Echoes of your voice Run rampant in my thoughts...

"All that is me is quite clear That I stand in the path which I carved with trembling hands Laying stone after stone so that My children could simply walk Uninterrupted and serene To reach their every single dream..." Tomas J

An image so symbolic- A beacon of freedom to All those who from afar Have come to terms with How beautiful and noble It would be to Willingly feel the Warmth of their Boiling blood as it spills And fills the Streets with a crimson sea To die while raising a fist Shouting out against oppression Standing against injustice All the while Dreaming of freedom Some meet their fate With a passion in their core A flame that burns Into the night Like lady liberty's torch While some lay in those Endless crimson street seas Others through their sacrifices Quietly flee under the Cover of night's Star spangled skies With dry lips and tired feet Their hopes kept warm by Dreams of that undying flame North-star of immigrants Torch of lady liberty Fuels their will to endure An age old vision Drawing them in To walk the paths of Purple mountains majesty Only to end their journey Listening to a Symphony of insults Working forty eight Hours a day Fourteen days a week A dream deceased Fear of being cast out Justifies their willing Societal disappearance as They now walk silently Amongst the invisible Afraid of even asking For a helping hand Illnesses of those Young and old alike Go untreated as Acceptance of inhumanity Becomes a singular reality So now what of that torch They ask themselves Today its flame seems A mere spark in comparison to The wildfire burning within The citizens, the bureaucrats, and The politicians whom So conveniently forgot They too come from A long line of immigrants Who arrived here with the Very same hopes and dreams Yet they are only spoken of When wolves in suits Put on their brightest of smiles and With false promises Of immigration reform Gather that much needed Latino vote Which strengthens their campaigns Earning them a position Of privilege They sit behind Solid cherry oak desks Leaving the immigrant On a never ending campaign Of tending to the fields Laying tile, repairing roofs, Landscaping the lawn, and Washing the windows of High rise buildings Suspended, peering in From the outside Looking into the offices whom Provide those very Goods and services That will never Be of any benefit To the invisible families Those souls run out of time Overworked and underpaid Marginalized and demoralized They die silently Looking beyond the pasture Still believing the flame of Lady liberty's torch Would remember them As it did others who Dared risk it all For a dream.......

Mom’s Bustelo espresso fills the morning air No hat- it’s Sunday; have to comb my hair Last week I prayed God would help me shake this thing today we call depression Nothing ever really worked, not even sitting through confession Through the rectory I enter old St. Michael’s church Amongst the dancing flames and Saints my soul resumes its search While getting into the altar boy garb, I looked around this place I hoped that one day I would be righteous enough to be worthy of his grace Last Wednesday I called a kid an asshole, my salvation might just be in peril Nervousness set in, with a gentle smile, there he stood- Father Fitzgerald All my hurt would subside if one day I could walk through that pearly gate I just knew that everyone in St. Michael’s shared that same blissful fate While the ladies in the back row poked fun at all the other ladies like they always do, Father Fitzgerald raised both his hands, smiled, and said “Peace be with you…”

This journey called life- It breaks the human spirit. My only comfort rests in Knowing that Although I walk this path alone, My soul has evolved. My heart understood that Love, true love knows no limitations." TJC