The Collected Poems of Juan Cruz

[Juan Cruz]

Lord of the TWI Flies

They better not mess with me.

I got curses they haven't even found in their "Advanced" class!

I got curses they don't know about.

I got curses where they got "positive believing."

I got curses where they're out roasting wieners by the campfire.

I got curses even Rhoda never heard.

I got curses you can't put on tape and sell.

I got co-lateral curses.

I got curses Bullinger couldn't find in the stars.

I got curses for them if they mess with me.

I've learned the real Word of God and from it

I got curses for people who f with the truth.

It's just grace (I happen to have a red light from Daddy right now)

that I don't unload on the whole pack of them hyenas.

But the forbearance of Daddy might not last forever, OK?

I got curses I took from the carburetor of the motor coach.

I got curses I stole from Chris Geer’s running shoes.

I got improper puja the family pundit put on Pillai’s sleeping bag

outside his door

when he got home from Mar‘s Hill.

I got curses worse than living downwind in Emporia.

... ones Ted would never sing about.

... Life Magazine won’t write about.

... Mick Jagger won’t think about.

(I got curses you can’t get at the racetrack.)

Tree parts snap off and fall

when my breath blows cold on them.

How long, O Lord, wilt Thou keep sealed

this apocalyptic pneumatic pestilence?

They won’t be safe at Dunkin’ Donuts

when Senora Cruz’s little boy

gets the green light

to do his deuteronomic paso doble.

=============================================

"Curses Part 2"

I got roadside curses

I got shaggy dog curses

I got curses...

you'll need Preparation capital f-ing H.

You'll need a new hat.

My malevolence is low PH

and the cookie jar is cracked.

Don't question who MY Daddy is.

Thou hast not known Him at all.

Thou hast not been salted nor swaddled at all,

thou bald man!

thou bald man!

Oh, you're just lucky I'm smiling.

Pray that it stays that Way.

==========================================

“After the Church Wedding”

Something old and cold

poured down the ice swan’s throat

on the sultry veranda

into a fine glass with olive

Something new abrew in the garden

with lesbian photographers from Queens

Something borrowed from a sonnet

made father fear and tremble and

think he might go back to church.

Something blue between us two

left alone at the table.

“Our minister didn’t care to visit

but Father Larry made it sound

like he’d known him all his life”

==============================================

In a message dated 2/3/2005 11:08:23 PM Eastern Standard Time, AW writes:

What do you really think happens to people when they die?

Dear A...,

I think the conclusion and beyond

are even more absurdly gracious

than the process of getting there.

Our mental and intellectual doubts that anything happens

do not change the reality, or much sway our natural belief,

that absurd graciousness continues.

I've been wondering

if we believe that heaven is full God's glory

to the extent that we perceive God's glory on earth.

This of course, means a great degree of pleasant surprise at the pearly gates...

for all except Monet, Picasso, Bach, Mozart, Rilke, and a few others.

But even they are surprised.

This answer feels penultimate,

I hope to pen the ultimate

to you as soon as possible,

in sharing our hope and plight, if not in words.

Thanks for asking.

Peace,

Juan

===========================================

"Looking It Up in the Original"

I was remembering

blessed babe-a-lish-ous

Word-worshipping-women

with whom I concor-danced

around the living room

Friday nights

seven-thirty to nine o'clock

and,

praise Allah,

ever so miraculously...

(like the sun standing still!)

around the rooftop, the shore,

the dorm room, the park,

and a grassy meadow

beneath the shooting stars

ever young, ever strong,

ever, then never, crude ends.

========================================

To a girl I never danced with...

I like to have the sunshine soul

of a smart woman before me

as I prepare for words

- thanks be to God for you.

Take twiggy, she's yours

My concordancing days may be over but...

Wyeth had his Helga.

Edited January 20, 2007 by Juan Cruz

[Juan Cruz]

========================================

Oh...such memories...

Let me witness to you.

hormones and scripture.

innocence and experience

collaterals and damage

Greek and double-speak

Devils and humans;

who were worse,

the imaginary

or the hypocrite?

Which was which?

Each according to its kind.

But oh Twiggy,

let's go witness tonight.

Oh, Twiggy, let's not witness

the truth tonight.

Oh Twiggy, let's witness

together tonight.

Witness Twiggy tonight.

Witness

Twiggy

Tonight.

===================================

Honey, Lick the Amber

Honey, lick the amber from the bark,

that ‘thou mayest steady thy fast surely.’

For when a finch lit upon a house sale sign

I, confused, thought it was Wisdom,

the she-mason of the cosmos

waiting for the obscure and silent night of San Juan.

Let us not furrow four brows,

Nor untuck both our hankers,

A jungle beast is Merlin outside his right mind,

following me since I ruled over sand lots.

Nebuchadnezzar ate the kine’s grass.

Such kingly kine am I.

The queen's fish supper may tarry.

All the king's pisces are outside looking in.

[Juan Cruz]

=======================================

Super 8 Memento

At thirteen your long arms and legs

Shoveled the sands behind You

As you gamboled up the steep sand dune.

Your father’s home movie shows

Four sisters and your step-mom

Ascending slowly, though not for effort.

Why non Parnassus?

Non whoopee summitus?

Did sand jam the camera?

Perhaps your Dad wearied of too many starlets.

Dancing, laughing, whirling,

You dared Olympus to throw you down.

Now, proportioned and perfected,

You return your own wide grin and prophesy,

“Look, there’s your Mommy

Clowning and climbing for my father,

Whom we’ll meet again on our way down!”

Edited January 20, 2007 by Juan Cruz

[Juan Cruz]

========================================

"Bed and Board"

To my wife on our 7th anniversary

A home, a house, a wife, a life,

A sundress, a yellow house, a photo

A man in a van remembering joy,

A wrong road, a right road.

A call to go with me. A call to stay with you.

The bells, the hills, the life.

The streets, the snows, the hills.

A church, a task, a balance to keep.

A partner in struggle, a partner in life.

The lawn, the park, the fountain.

Neighbors and friends, bonfires and pools.

The move, the van, the dishes and attic.

New cargoes of life, Meagan and Eric,

The birth, the smiles, the pain, the pride

Nurses and doctors, shots and worries.

The crib, the camera, the bottles, the breast.

Live incarnate, life abundant,

Peace and joy, love and tears.

Children, sleds, swings and monkey bars.

Nothing is easy, little is ease.

Newness and joy, sorrow and anger,

Depression and slipping, climbing and dipping.

Reach for the peaks, picking the clover,

Flying in freedom, Hair all over.

Problems like Maria,

Resenting like Moses.

Runny noses and tingling toeses.

Seven is perfect, not itchy

Seven can take you an awful long way.

So lay in a store of extra virtue.

Pack in a trunk-full of pride that can’t hurt you.

Sing to the Lord,

Sing with the choir,

Tune your face upward,

To catch the next ride.

For it’s off to infinity,

It’s life here to borrow.

You’re just the right age,

So let’s do it tomorrow!

Edited January 20, 2007 by Juan Cruz

[waysider]

I'm pretty much "old school" so the cadence took me off guard.

I did enjoy "To the Girl I Never Danced With" and "Oh---Such Memories".

[Juan Cruz]

“Joey’s Joy”

Baby Joey’s joy

When let down

to wander the coffee shop

or barber shop

to wave at sunlit floating mites and motes in the parlor

to lie in fields and count cricket beats

Joy

When his mother’s blue eyes

Meet his own in silence

When animal crackers were dug out of a lion’s cage

Joy when the Rock calls his name.

[Jan. 2007]