• Today I write for you

    Today I write for you

    The sweetest smile, the freckles on your face, the dream, the green in your eyes, the golden in your hair, the rock, the tree above your grave. The sweet and confusing voice of death; her dark hair, her talent was to dream, and her smile to persuade.

    She guided me there, unknown, afraid, confused, and desperate. But now I see the shallow grave which I can’t bear.

    At last, at last, I have arrived, the somber tone, the cold of wind, the lovely girl I knew now rests here below and dreams.

    No name, no flowers on your tomb, only a prayer and a song for all this gloom.

    Neither sadness nor happiness can change the memory of you, will death perhaps? Will the sea between us?

    Poor, broke, alone, or rich? Nothing but your heart can feel this peace. One day you will rise to the stars, in this vast unexplored and unknown space of possibilities and woe.

    You reached out to me, and today, oh well; Today I write for you my love.

    For you, I write my love, for you…

    The end.

    A poem by,

    -S. I. Guzman

  • The Traveler

    The Traveler

    Oh, how long; how long must I belong? The day the bird shall speak no more. For I, for I, must travel long.

    The sweet amber color of the tree and the temper blue of the sky, they say, speak. Speak, for I await for thee.

    Must I travel long?

    For I have labored here and shall await till dusk and be no more.

    Moon and Sun, they do await, though fools and kings stay below, and thus the sky will open up its doors to the majestic unknown world.

    Below and low, thieves and trickers and merchants go, though they rise above the sky with purple robes.

    They tremble and think and go, today in sorrow, tomorrow in love.

    He shall whistle the song above, for the king awaits, high and low.

    A traveler, a traveler, for he must always go.

    The end.

    A poem by,

    -S. I. Guzman

  • The Skull of Hermes

    The Skull of Hermes

    “We go through life, hoping to understand its meaning and in the end all is left is hope for immortality. The acorn produces an oak tree and the seeds of wisdom are deposited in the ether of life. So that we may survive.

    Life’s meaning is nothing more than the unknown shadow of the human soul.

    Take a leap of faith, aid those in need ,as you will, beyond the grave in a perpetual state fulfill the duty of being human and come to the realization, without erring, that by doing so you have helped your own self to embrace the human soul”

    With love to future generations.

    A poem by,

    -S. I. Guzman

  • Cosmic Wanderer’s Reflection

    Cosmic Wanderer’s Reflection

    For I remember…I am not from this planet.

    My planet? Your planet, and the Cosmos. I would like to see other worlds now that I am here.

    Impossible as I can only travel in my mind…

    As I lay down to speak with the mystery man who, with arrogance, wit, and terrible odor said; Behold! Behold, thy earthing. Your name?

    No name, just shadows and wind. Bluffing buffoon, who neither here nor there, thou has cast thy spells; Though I vibe with Earth.

    Now think, as I stare into your eyes and give you some pity or even, some treasures to pursue. Now, I did remember when thou begged from here as you stare at my abode; You did not even flinch or blink an eye, I admire thy courage and fearless spirit, for I gave it.

    What of Earth?

    What of it? For I do not dwell in silence here, I dream of it. Dream of all that is there.

    What is there?

    The Cosmos, the Cosmos, the Cosmos, the place I belong.

    A Poem by, S. I. Guzman