[Pedro Los Dos]

The Early Works

Book Four

Books two and three
never saw the light of day,
they went into the trash
and the trashman took them away.
They were poems destined for a one-time show,
written on the backs of business cards and shopping bags,
and stuffed into pockets and then into boxes
until finally they fell
to the clipping room floor.
Perhaps they're finally
free.
This is Book Four.

© PB 1982

The Pebble That I Was

She came to me as always
like the fragrance of a flower
and tucked between the pages
of my ignorance and my arrogance,
she chanced to read me and believe me
like the pages of a book.
And no words within my head
nor ever mumbled from my bed
shall sanctify the feelings that I knew.
And the pebble that I was
soon became a castled rock.

© PB 1982

Notes on Design/The Magic of the Moon

I always felt that there could be
a wedding of the arts and sciences
as much as there could be
a union of our reason and our passion.
So having been schooled in the heat and sweat
of a summer-like science,
I longed for the fall and the magic of the moon.
And herein, within, I have found it.

© PB 1982

Dear Writer

And suppose there was not
a single soul in your audience.
Would you write any more
or any less?
Would you write any better
or any worse?
Or would you write despite
the fact that no one heard
a single word?
Yes, I believe that write you will,
and write you must,
whether you fly or turn to dust
too soon.
Such is the nature
of the gift to write.

© PB 1982

Something to Write About

There will always be
something to write about
so long as our reason and our passion
are kept alive within us.
It's only when we settle
for the superficial
that writing will cease
to serve
a purpose.

© PB 1982

To Write

To write is to grasp
at the greatest of fantasies
and to hold them firmly in the hand;
to dream the greatest of dreams
and to capture them in words;
to seize upon the most illusive of thoughts,
to harness them for a moment,
but then in time,
let them too run free;
to reflect, to acknowledge,
to propose, to wonder;
to me, to write
is to be.

© PB 1973, 1997

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