Juan Olivarez Poems

Clouds turn to faces,
Right before your very eyes.
Someone you might know.
...

Black mud dauber wasp,
Building her mud hut so well.
Fine architecture.
...

He's a little demon with beautiful eyes,
Beautifully blue, like the midday skies.
He calls me grampa, and smiles my way,
And under his spell, I want to stay.
...

You lay on the couch watching t.v,
Munching on potato chips.
A couch potato for all to see,
Emptying those bowls of dip.
...

It's of my youth, of which I sing,
When I was a ninety eight pound weakling.
They'd tie some string on me, so tight,
And made me soar, just like a kite.
...

Foot powder, baby powder, gunpowder,
Powdered milk, powdered eggs,
Powdered meat?
Powdered water, what to add.
...

Dynamite, good and tight,
Staying up till early light.
Pick a fight, when you're right,
Yes you might.
...

The morning is crisp,
There is a certain cleanliness,
In the air.
...

The brash humidity is gone,
The frost giant's children,
Came to visit in the night.
...

Listen to the voices, inside your head,
If you don't listen, it could get bad.
Listen to what they say to you,
Then you won't be naive, without a clue.
...