Robert D Lopez
Profesor emeritus, California State University Sacramento
I have dedicated 45 years to my beloved field of education.
I have served as faculty, counseling psychologist, teacher, coach, athletic director, mentor and friend.
I enjoy travel, sports, music, arts, literature and writing poetry and songs.
My poetry books “Eggs Benedict,”and “Seasons of Thoughts” and my “Personal Memories,” will available soon.
“Writing the world is my personal therapeutic savior.
It allows and demands of me the freedom to express my most inner-thoughts without explanation”
A Final Romance
If I take your mind away
imagining that we have known
other songs the same way
all of everything is a romance
until at last is death
So, Spring will be here
Forming a new scene
as background
to a final theater
*****
Beyond Thought
Needing me more than anything of life
Is music as it wells the chest and sings
Of sorrow for no other reason than a truth
Forever reminding strangers who they are
By tone clear into air freeing itself
But with such understanding it could weep
For overwhelming loneliness
Must be the companion of all beauty
Happening beyond human thought
*****
February Ache
We will live around to Spring again
Through cold and heavy breath of winter
Something dies to be born blossoming
The most naked embarrassment of hope
A flower is the delicate thought of February
When nothing matters but an ache of Air
*****
Freedom Is Love
The moment only will triumph
stirring at leaves fragile to a tree
The coming darkness is excited with this season
Has tumult been too long
Upon children when they must masquerade
longing as they do for better time
Could prayer arrive with actual peace
A turning of color believing new Autumn
I have touched thinness and know freedom is to love
*****
Gift Of Life
The naked answer
Alive infall directions
Comes as quiet breeze
And blossoming thick in summer
A great caravan becomes silence
As though trouble would finally go away
I see this is the truth of faces
full of pain and longing to survive
because the only gift is life
*****
Wedding Autumn
The gnarled tree is desperate with a gift of leaves
Greenly singing above wooden barked limbs
All for autumn on calendars of dying days
Fast into a journal of salvation
Quicker even than a word feels
This song of motion would become
In hope of nothing less than God.
Came home the young soldier marches from home
Upon a thickening fields of continuous steps
To slice away darkness from the heavy thunder
Edges slowly the growing up mountains
Into lonely style coming leanness
Within a lofty cloud trembles one tear
Magically clear through hollow noise
A flute trickes down severing thicker notes
Fuller in light tones dripping richness
Forward to the bridge and jamming branches
Out further back to blues away chording
And the bass deeply is the base of things fierce
To melody demanding creative accord
Then freedom in its turn from confinement
Happens together with feeling trumpets
Of sadness grow mellow kindly because the flute
Had a song for thing of journey being.
January Field
Turning away from itself
Somehow toward blossoms
quiet before the guts of earth
Where vision makes me blind
traveling to another age
No longer angry with what is given
The sounding birds in fierce air
a greatness of belief in seasons
out of fragile wings into the clear
unquestionable as peace becoming day
*****
Salvation Of Thought
The coming and going darkness
Like weight measuring time
Surely as it is with day
On the other side of night
The numberless sunrise
continues waking a heart
To beat upon the brain for hope
That we will not end without meaning
For all the brutally of our naked scars
Pitifully praying for salvation of thought
*****
Suddenly
Suddenly from somewhere
She appears in my thoughts
A beautiful person
Whose eyes I have caught
She moves with finesse
Exquisite, such grace
Her smile a Mona Lisa
Such a beautiful face
I see her a flower, a bird on a tree,
Exposing such strength, the roar of the sea
She sits on her rock, analyzing the stars
Tracing constellations from Venus to Mars
She is sensual, perceptive, sexy and bright
Can light up the dark
My God, what a sight.
*****
Time Of Love
I have thought of love
and lived in time with people
As a traveler coming in the storm
Seeking refuge from a terrible wind
Whatever season is on the year
A force carries me through incredibly alone
*****
The Magi
I want to tell you of the Magi
who comes into human bodies
through goldness of trumpets
turning away is most of this
from what my hand touches
into the flow of thickening prayer
Far off in a fantasy of garments
unsoiled by the funk and meaning
is for life the Magi
*****
The Poet Got Loose
Something happened to me
That I do not understand
The Poet got loose on my life
Suffered with me and stayed
Till there is not bird
But the one who can save my life
And it could be an Eagle
But they are so common
To writers and I need a Hawk
Who gets just part of the prey
The main heart of a thing
My own self in each action
A truth against spaceness
Some wall between death.
*****
Thinking
When I have thoughts
and I need to think
I go to my favorite spot
My kitchen sink
I look out the window
dish soap on my hands
There’s no place I can’t go
There’s really no plan
I can dream of tomorrow
With no thoughts of sorrow
I can tell stories, I can sing songs
Why? Because there’s no right
*****
After he retired and moved to Sedona, Arizona, he taught literature at Yavapai College in Clarkdale, Arizona.
He and professional artist Bev Kephart bought a small motor home in 2003, sold most of their possessions, and traveled the U. S. for seven years. After visiting Mexico several times, they settled in the village of Ajijic, joining the ex-pat artist and writing communities.
Mel’s writing has been published online and in print in The United Kingdom, The United States, Mexico, New Zealand, and Australia. He is the author of three novels, a book of short stories, and several books of poetry. He and his wife now make their home in the village of San Nicholas de Ibarra.
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