Thursday, February 5, 2009

My mandolin and Mamacita

My Mandolin

When I
Play my
I feel it
Transform from
A small, wooden
Box with strings
To a living creature
Fondled at my breast.
I love feeling its heart
Beating, it’s soul tumbling
And singing. It brings me close
To God. Makes me feel like I’m living.

Ode to Mama

Mamacita, Mamacita.
She brought me
Soup and Bread.
Dark chocolate
and Sudafed to cure
My bruised heart
And stuffy head.


Ms. Moon said...

There- see- you made me laugh again.
I love both of those poems. I do, I do, I do.
And I love you.
Of course.

honeyluna said...

I'm glad that it made you laugh. It makes me as happy as an orangutan in a fig tree full of fruit to make you laugh. And I'm certainly glad that you cracked up when you read that sign on my door. That could have been bad if you were another type of mother.

Can't wait to see you on Saturday!

Andrew said...

wow - amazing painting, do you own it? if yes, you are super lucky!

Is it by Eric L?