Poems From Far Places
Observations in Verse by Traveler Rodrigo Villegas
Observations in Verse by Traveler Rodrigo Villegas
As Seen Through A Porthole
Upon this frosted glass
I trace the gallant bow
A line I cut to cast
The sudden Sea
From its eternity
A million dots it seems
Cut through the night in streams
To blend in one pecular geometry.
Upon this frosted glass
I trace the gallant bow
A line I cut to cast
The sudden Sea
From its eternity
A million dots it seems
Cut through the night in streams
To blend in one pecular geometry.
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Puerto Cabella
Comes dawn on a slow bell
A play of lights along the shore
For those returning from the night
Or beginning another day
A yawning seabreeze on our backs
We steam along the narrows of the darkness
We steal past the silent Spanish fort
The mountains dull yet haunting
Sweep high from the great bay
Sunrise in a surprise of gold and silver
The hills take on their splendid wraps of green
Strange birds streak the distance
I listen for the sounds of the port city.
Puerto Cabello, Venezuela.
Comes dawn on a slow bell
A play of lights along the shore
For those returning from the night
Or beginning another day
A yawning seabreeze on our backs
We steam along the narrows of the darkness
We steal past the silent Spanish fort
The mountains dull yet haunting
Sweep high from the great bay
Sunrise in a surprise of gold and silver
The hills take on their splendid wraps of green
Strange birds streak the distance
I listen for the sounds of the port city.
Puerto Cabello, Venezuela.
Tourist in Mexico
Mexican days can enchant her
Everywhere flowers are flowing
Richness of color has touched
her
Intricate prose has entwined her
Nothing can hold back her
glowing
Driving from out of the rain
While the moon sails upright.
Mexican days can enchant her
Everywhere flowers are flowing
Richness of color has touched
her
Intricate prose has entwined her
Nothing can hold back her
glowing
Driving from out of the rain
While the moon sails upright.
Tourists In Mexico
Their skins creased by a hostile sun
Phased out the last remnant of glamour
They became as last years New York Times
Or like abandoned department stores
The native women, saved by the passion in their
eyes
dissolved onto quiet cathedrals.
Their skins creased by a hostile sun
Phased out the last remnant of glamour
They became as last years New York Times
Or like abandoned department stores
The native women, saved by the passion in their
eyes
dissolved onto quiet cathedrals.
| Volcano, One Cheeky old volcano You rocked my quiet cradle You turned the joy of dreaming Into a dream unstable Volcano, Two From your high moldy green The flash of some madness seen. |
| Showers In The Park Came rain Like a furious business Tappy tap tap, overhead The lion of substance Roared in the distance To this hiss of the god snake Rain |
| Dedication A walk in the park Whispers in the dark The cry of the lark In the morning. |
Text Copyright Rodrigo Villegas
SoftSeatTravel
The Surfer And The Sea
Gathering green towers
Curving to their end
Spinning the whitehead flowers
Tumbling the seven story men.
Gathering green towers
Curving to their end
Spinning the whitehead flowers
Tumbling the seven story men.
And we traded our tulips for castles on the Rhine.
And the winds through the trees uttered German.
And the winds through the trees uttered German.
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