Poetry By Adrian Mariscal

Currents
By Adrian S. Mariscal

She got into my blood,
Got into the flow one cell at a time,
Became inseparable
From the energy stored there
Where atoms vibrate,
And the universe shifts
Back and forth between
Thoughts of God,
She made it
To the center,
Of me,
To the rise and fall
Of every beat
As if the tempo
Was hers all along,
Deviltry of the simplest kind,
A smile a joke,
An adventure in my mind,
Into my blood flowing
Through spine electric,
Up into levels organized eclectic,
Captivated by the dream,
Charmed like sailors unarmed
By songs by sirens,
By the dawn of me and her,
Hiding our smiles,
Disguising our needs,
Feeding the chemistry
Without trying,
Kid-like a play fight
A visit pretend-like
I kept it cool,
Maybe too cool,
Maybe too institutionalized,
Into my blood flowing,
Like poison like fire
Feeding itself unstoppable,
And afterwards,
The embers lie glowing
Under ash mountains, of me,
Waiting for the winds of change
To carry the dream
Into a brand new day,
From this poem into your smile
And back into mine,
My turn to flow like lava
Through every one of your veins
And feel alive, in you,
One with everything we are,
Everything we will become,
Together.

Necessary like Stars
By Adrian S. Mariscal

It’s been a while since I wrote you a letter,
Or a poem waxing philosophical,
Writing to you like a sculptor would
Or an artist touched by the sun,
Do you miss me?
Or do you think of me
Which isn’t the same, but sort of,
Shaping the body of a proposition, or
Riddles for the uninitiated
And you my dear are my skeleton key,
Unlocking all the stars all the universes
And stepping through to casually say hello,
I have brought you another poem I know
You will cherish the melody
As it descends into the abyss of progress,
Where silence falls flat on its face
For the new generation,
And I be like fuck em their soft and indecisive,
They will never appreciate the subtlety
In any one of your smiles,
They will walk the long miles of middle life
Without finding wonder where ever they can,
Necessities and spiritual awakenings,
Burning in places given over to paint
With the dying embers of our hearts,
I am ridiculous because of you
Because of life and nights like this,
Burning through Bukowski
And the last of my thirty something trips around the sun,
Wishing you were here for the convo
For the late night carnival and carnivore in me,
For the kid in me and in you, silly stuff
I know I’m a good rambler who mistakes
A good rant for decent poetry,
Read me anyway and call it the greatest,
Call it sublime or the thoughts of a great mind
With too little oxygen and never fake it,
That is your gift my dear, you find
What is most human and watch it
The way God watches it all
And knows it is all precious,
You my love are no Scarlet produced by romantic fools
Who know nothing of the wasteland and lie,
I would die there a million times
And shock the world every time
When we blossom out of their darkness
With laughter
Mad and deafening.