http://slow.writerscafe.org/nolosegundopoet The original writings of author Nolo Segundo en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776179254 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Of ether and earth we are made,not fully one or the other, andso we always feel untethered,ever restless, prone at timesto coming apart...whole nations come apart,what chance then have youor I?Our souls seek the air, our bodies cling to earth.We are never one or the other, we are never at rest.Some .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2926734/ Written out of a deep concern for what seems to be a growing almost totalitarian mindset in American politics. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2926362/ the mystery of life's time http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2926196/ as the years peel offI discard the lost time butkeep the truth I find http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2925947/ A little poem for our time... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2924616/ 3 haiku in traditional 5-7-5 form http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2912590/ English is not a languageone can ever get ahead of--Just too damn many words!Like 'ludic' for example:playful, in the sense ofspontaneous, without areal purpose. Sooo...how come I never came across it in over sixty,yes, sixty years readinguntold millions of words inmy beloved mother tongue,the langu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2771303/ I walked down the hectic street,full of clamor, hustle and bustle,saw not the demons and angelsnor sensed heaven and hellwere but a heartbeat away.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2150695/ What does it mean to believe in God, to have a faith, to seek the Divine? Is religion the same as faith? Is there only one right or correct religion, meaning all the others are false? Can God be proven to exist? Is atheism based on reason or is it just another form of belief, itself a religion of so.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2135846/ This is a 'thought poem' that speculates on the possibility (probability?) that there are other intelligent, sentient life-forms in this vast Universe. And if so, they might have libraries too. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2113399/ I post this only to show that suicide is not an escape. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2106959/ A sense of the mystery pervading all our sentient lives. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2090456/ In Spanish there is a saying that life is a dream, a dream is life...something I think about more and more. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2090310/ This poem is dedicated to those who take neither the Divine Mystery nor its absence for granted. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2051749/ My wife's family had gathered around their mother's hospital deathbed, grieving together as they shared their sadness and their love. ' http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2041064/ This poem was return in memory of all the school shooting victims. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/2035310/ This poem operates on the premise that the soul influences human actions as well as human feelings-- and when it 'forgets' itself, we get into all sorts of trouble. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1999853/ The cold desolation of winter sometimes reflects that of the heart. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1984760/ I wrote this poem one day after watching a mass shooting on the news and then seeing an incredibly ugly painting that sold for a fortune. For me it indicates how our society really is going crazy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1983543/ Once you realize that you and everyone else are immortal beings, you see time itself as an illusion. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1954424/ A few thoughts on a possible connection between the natural, temporal world and the supernatural, eternal world. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1949442/ This poem was written when I realized one day that reincarnation, rebirth happens within a single life time, and the longer one lives, the more 'lives' one will have. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1949179/ Having turned 70, what I find most interesting about aging is that only my body is getting old-- 'inside' I'm in my 20's, and when I recall events of 40, 50, 60 years ago, they seem not 'distant'. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1933045/ This poem describes something I experienced at 17-- I did not understand it until several years later when I learned I have a soul. The part of the battlefield where it occurred is called Devil's Den. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1926806/ I never learned how to be a father,I never learned how to give life,I never learned to take a chance,I never learned to welcome a soul.Fear kept me from trying, fear of hurt,fear of betrayal, fear of falling short.My own father was not bad or mean,just not there, not there for me...so I never learne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1920555/ We so-called 'moderns' believe we are so advanced, yet look at the great unhappiness all about us: with myriad numbers of drug OD's, murders, suicides, alcoholics, divorces, mental illness, etc. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1916820/ I look at her and I can seea woman approaching slowlythe land of old age, hernight-black hair invaded bylonely grey strands, stragglersof an approaching army:a relentless force built oversixty years, stealing bits of herbeauty, loosening her skin,lightening her bones....I can now see easily the old .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1908016/ 70 is a milestone birthday where feelings of time running out, of mortality, cannot be ignored. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1908015/ As sacred becomes the past,the old times laugh youth away.The words, the music thrilled uswith elated visions of life, and weremember her lonely seduction at the high school dance:'in love like this, crazy but it's true--I only want to be in love with you...' http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1900169/ Traveling to a place where thousands of lives perished violently in a short time period makes one naturally ask questions about good and evil, life and death, God and humanity. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1883039/ Each generation truly comes into this world naked in both body and mind. Do we really pass on the wisdom the young will need to cope with life that is fraught with far more danger than we let on? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1881029/ The title and theme were inspired by a tract written by an unknown monk-mystic in the late Middle Ages. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1870242/ It seems a natural irony that only as you approach the 'last lap' of your life's race will you fully savor its innate beauty. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1868985/ The kid within this old man still loves trains, and for many years has thrilled to hear the particular beauty of a freight train's horn as it approaches a crossing near my house. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1865822/ If you live long enough, one day you may wonder, Did I do all I might have with what I had? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1865473/ There is really only one ultimate question for human beings: are we just clever animals, subject to death and oblivion -- or is there a part of us that transcends this world and exists forever? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1852811/ I wrote this as an old man whose soul, forever young that it is, can still drink of the happy parts of his childhood. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1849526/ In our mundane, materialistic, skeptical society we may be suffering from the illusion that there is nothing more to life and the universe than what our senses can perceive. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1843981/ A brief, personal allegory on depression http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1841237/ When you have long loved someone, you cannot help but think what it would be like to be separated by death. Such thoughts are not morbid but only those who have loved for decades can understand that. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1834557/ We are left clues everywhere--the purring of the eternal made by aboundless ocean as it laps the shore,the winds as they kiss cheek andlift the game heart, the sun's soft touch on open flesh, itsbreath warming and pulling usup, outward toward blue sky....We have only to listen,we have only to see, b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1834551/ For those who love the transcendent magic of music.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1831179/ I actually wrote this poem in the late 70's after I returned from teaching in Cambodia; though a civilian I saw something of the terrible devastation the civil wars wrecked on the peoples of Indochina http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1828017/ Sometimes I forget eternityas I go about my life asthough-- this is all:live, die, and be no more.I've known THAT is the illusion since my twenties when I 'felt' my soul,my forever knowing,without a beginning,without any ending.That same soul left my body twice-- first into  terror, utter black.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1817274/ You think it a lie, seeing thatold man in the mirror--someimposter taking your name,living in your house, callingout to your wife as thoughhe had married her 40 yearsago and not you...what canthe old fellow want of you,you wonder, and would ask,but you fear his laughter.So you never speak with himan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1805303/ To my unmet friend:You see the mortal worldand for you man is machine,little more than a device for the vagaries of evolution,faith is illusion, hope lacksweight and love? Can love be other than mere sex,nature's sole mandate?And your science now tellsyou: what can I ever know?All is quantum topsy-t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1787624/ Fear not deathwhen it comes for you.Death is not a monster, not even a master, buta servant having no morechoice in the taking of youthan you have in the going.And if you are defiant,telling lonely Death,'By my hand, not yoursI will set my fate!',Death will smirk, laughand say without rancor:'Take m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1765911/ As a childyou carry itlike a ball and chain,all day long,slowing life itself.It seemed eternitytill the next birthday,and it took forever after you first sawthe fat men in theirfunny red suitsuntil Christmas came.Time's hands moved fasterwhen you entered that netherland between childhood and grownup.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1765904/ When a man loves a woman,holds her flesh to his fleshand feels bound to the earth,is that not the love of God?When a mother clutches infant,amazed, bewildered, sensing abridge between two souls--is that not the love of God?When a soldier under fire,fearful to his sweat, throwshis sweet life onto a g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1760188/ We sat at the kitchen tablein his small house sited next to the neighbor's orchard(where we later picked apples--it was a good-hearted neighbor)when I asked him a simplequestion:Do you pray?Personal, you say...well,fora friend and teacher?Why that question, then,in his kitchen? I surprisedmyself in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nolosegundopoet/1758687/