cortneemendoza@hotmail.com
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The Ivory Tower
Some people are like passed thistle
Some people are like passed thistles
growing by a highway, wild and beautiful,
nodding in the motorized after-breeze of a gauged stretch.
Advancing towards the thistles,
we meet for a purple, pink, and green instant,
face to face in automotive passing
ensnared in muted curiosity.
Then, we’re gone at 70 or 80 miles per hour,
remarking in our heads how lovely the thistles were,
but never truly appreciating what we have passed.
from The Ivory Tower: Within and Outside
by
Cortnee Mendoza
Everything is passing…
Everything is passing, nothing stay constant.
Life passes, stopping only to rest for a second.
In the field, the grass varies in tint and shade.
Where there was a seed, now there’s as seeding.
Shifting dirt covers the footprints of squirrels.
In the sky, the sun goes its preordained paths
opposite the moon, chasing the moon
sometimes chassed by the moon.
It goes to its destination on different paths.
Oneself may appears as a pine,
evergreen and consistent,
but as the pine, one is in flux every second.
Molecules of consciousness exchanging electrons of sensation Creating compounds
of impulse and force Causing love of the blue sky now, and hate of the blue sky
later.
Everything is passing, nothing stay constant.
Life passes, stopping only to rest for a second.
from The Ivory Tower: Within and Outside
by Cortnee Mendoza
"If is is true that i am a poet by the grace of god- or the devil,- i am
also a poet by virture of technique and effort, and knowing precisely what a
poem is."
-Federico Garcia Lorca
