A Morning with Juan

when he woke up that morning, he knew…
squinting at the faint early light pouring through the blinds
he knew that today was simply
going to be one of those days…
we all have them, days when the body is tired,
the mind is cluttered,
yet thoughts are a garden
drunken with dreams from night’s haze…

getting ready for work, there is no way, he thought,
that he wanted to deal with any hateful rhetoric and bullshit –
of cultural pride he’s overfilled
pigeon-holed as deviant and lazy, he’s heard it all,
and today (as in other dirty days), he’s
not in the mood for the blatant tokenism at his employment,
not in the mood for being profiled as an America-hater,
not in the mood for being accused of taking other’s jobs –
no… not in the mood to be seen as a dark-skinned, second-class subhuman…

Juan is in a chase,
the American dream is a craze
so, this morning, he unzips his skin…
“the under-skin suit is like everybody else’s”, he thinks,
as he auto-flays, for this start of the day, he’s not feeling so together…
mind cluttered with dreams from last night’s haze…

© Gabriel Navar


Oh, those Goose-bumps

may I share with you why I am blessed?
I am blessed because I live in California
and may indulge in the majesty
of ancient Redwood giants and
massage my post-information-age anxieties
on their phosphorescent moss…

a child of spray-paint cans, the Sugarhill Gang,
and Edgar Allan Poe… I’ve always felt goose-bumps
immersed in the labyrinths of Octavio Paz…

may I tell you why I am triumphant?
I am triumphant because I am able to glide over your hateful words
about the Hernandez, the Garcias, the Gonzalezes…
and, no, they are not speedy!
no need for your nonsense, your thoughts are a mess…

a son of Popeye, Martin Luther King Jr., Pancho Villa, El Chavo del Ocho….
I’ve always felt goose-bumps immersed
in the many, many years of solidude by Garcia Marquez…

may I express to you why I am successful?
I am successful because I am free to write these words…
I am a “product” of lotería, Mazapan, Uno, Snickers….
It’s all mixed into my cosmic marmalade…

a student of the sophisticated Maya, Rene Magritte and fan of posole,
I’ve always felt goose-bumps immersed in the Oakland sunshine sippin’ my Kool-aid!

© Gabriel Navar

pale-orange, gray and dreary…

app 4 better days

the dream I swim is a moonless
marmalade of purple hues,
a limp proxy for night,
shoved down the cave-throat
of a day dried weary…

throw a color-bomb at me, yes !
directly at my rain-craved brain,
because these days have been khaki-washed,
graffiti-less and chewed,
not unlike decayed, carved pumpkins…
pale-orange, gray and dreary…

drenched and stormed under
a star-rise spell, twitter-ville
is streaming, spinning, new bull-shit
has gone viral,
shoved down the cyber-throat
of consciousness gone
humorously eerie…

blue then white then gold

sky’s streams

swim, swim open flow
wavy stream dizzy streak
wet, lazy lake throw
moon beam goose beak

gravy stream fashions crow, so sleek!
Pleiades-gleam, life-tree freak
crocodilian, red-eyed, red-lined escrow
moss-pebbled twigs, mud-creeked, gray-slicked
tumbled, liked, un-liked, poked, tweeted, pinned, googled, youtubed,
huddled-down, heavy rain, perpetual seeking,

yet unsought, fleeting thoughts,
but not lost, just unrest…
when lost, though, found,
then lost again

words are seedlings, forests over forests

a sea inside claws away
at the belly, the cheeks
tongue licks the eyes, wandering pink
swim stream dizzy, night’s thousand creeks

sky screams
blue then white then gold
swim swim, flow moon’s hold
sing, muse, sing love-long beams
string string along life-strong dreams

strong dreams…


app 4 inner cosmos

been havin’ some thoughts about revolution lately,
movements come to mind, and so do struggles and convulsions…
fights for unity and solutions
a meditation this is
arms wide open for love,
but if not that,
then for respect, for understanding and
for evolution of the mind, of consciousness
against stagnation
and senseless divisions…

been havin’ some thoughts about creativity lately,
inspiration comes to mind, and so does music, rhymes and colors…
cultures in transition
if only an app existed for omissions of hatred, of ego trips, of oppression…
I’ll create one, or perhaps you will…
it’s within the trails of my vision
a meditation this is
heart wide open for progress,
but if not that,
then for the freedom, for peace and momentum in
pursuing one’s bliss
and inner cosmos

inner cosmos