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Clear Waters

He casts the line overhead in rhythm, A learned rhythm all his own. He dreams of rivers, streams, and lakes, Blue waters cut by line and leader. He learns as only a child can learn, Innocent and full of grace in failure— To experience rather than perfect, To enjoy rather than understand. The line snaps overhead as it flies, Satisfied, it lays upon the lawn. His blue eyes focused, his arm tight— I have seen this look before. He learns for the sake of learning, His actions driven by his will. To show it can be done, if tried, To enter a world of his creation. What becomes of he who learns In a world of polish and acclaim, Where pursuit of the best—or not at all— Seems to be the golden rule? To be a kid in a world too small, For the boy who chooses it all— And enjoys the moment within, Just him and the task at hand. In life, it shall serve him well, To see what others do not dare, And bravely test the status quo, Unchained from failure’s yoke. To stay his course, he may go far— He has the...
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The Great Master

The room spun left to right I moved not, but faster still it went Round and around without relief Stomach churned in resistance Moments ago we wrestled around Without worry or concern But change can start in an instant And sometimes life is never the same I fight you, and you know I often do Take advantage and punish you No concern for what is right or wrong Because of what you did to me I was young and in my prime We lived well, happy and free Then, with a lump, everything changed Was it your choice or my failure? You became frail and I did as well We watched the world spin round Without us ever forward, ever alone At odds we were from that day forth Now the world spins anew Just not figuratively as it did before Now it spins from within and random And I know not why or how But now I sit in a silent panic Staring at the trees far distant Pondering a pine box for you And what truly becomes of me... I was always the important one You, just a vehicle of sorts Have now become the captain ...
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Far Away Dirt

Above the clouds, beyond the toil, Blue skies and water merge as one. A flight over the vast Pacific— For a boy from the star thistle of Penryn, It feels unhinged from all known. From Pullman’s quiet college halls To the endless stretch of the ocean’s reach, No map could ever capture this scale, This immensity that humbles the soul. Just yesterday, I said goodbye To my grandpa in San Diego— His aging frame uncertain. I wonder if I’ll see him again. An Asahi beer with my cousin— We laughed, in that old hot tub. A month ago, I wore a cap and gown, The first to graduate in my family, Now clutching a gift from my professor: A season abroad in the Orient. Passports stamped, vaccines taken, Plans hastily patched together. A summer of love ended in a bittersweet hug, Leaving me a young boy, standing alone At life’s prism, its endless choices waiting. My mom fretted, unsure what to do. Dad leaned on his time in uniform. But even they knew this was different: A rural boy, unteathered in a world...
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Skeleton Town

A life is a vessel Like the ships that enter safe harbor A unique personality each their own Fiction more interesting than fact For small boys on the shore We throw rocks Same shores as we always have Splash, in all our silly games Killing time with no winner Cold hands on cold rocks We know the facts Those trivial facts of life This harbor is our birth right And in death shall be the same The shores have gravity We talk a lot Stick ball in the big leagues Adventures over warm seas Take away the winter chill As we dare believe The horn blows Quitting time for the laborer A fleeting joy for those few souls Who used to be called shore boys Who we just call Dad   The smell is ripe We hate the pungent odor They say a scent of money Success brings a family pay For a fortunate few We wander home The row houses lined straight Until we each reach our own And soon I walk all alone Holes in my shoes It smells the same But the house feels different Head down and eating slow Not a word is spok...
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Nature's Touch

The day drifts steadily to night A valley of sun drenched grass A large sun dial of daily fight To stand and see it come to pass  The crickets serenade the dew And a finch sings favorite song A welcoming sounds for a few After quiet night sans a throng A grove of trees standing guard As the sun reaches over mid day The quiet sentinels of this yard The palace of respite and shade The frogs croak their farewell As the sky turns an amber hue The owl hoots and all is well For the life before day anew A lonely valley I might say Had not seen magic wonder Of things of home and play For those we not oft ponder Nicholas Campos - November 2024
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Winds of Change

I cry to the winds of change  Asking for gentle relief To ebb the flowing tide To change the river's course   I cry to the winds of change Gratitude for good fortune To fly without wings And live above the rains   When the winds flow in favor I feel heard and with you When the winds turn wrong Abandoned and alone I walk   In my wisdom I am sure A proper course evermore That I a God for just a day Could proper justice place I cry to the winds of change Just a moment to be heard In silence they did yield A world completely still I shared my facts and figures A quest of right and wrong Change course I implore My routes a truer way The breeze blew gently by Resting passions tongue Ruffling a branch nearby A falling leaf in open hand Then came gentle whisper I have crossed the seas And moved the clouds To make my way to you I have known you all along Spinning freely as a child Throwing leaves in the air No matter the way they go The moment new eyes met I touched her flowi...
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The Devil Inside

There is a devil that lives inside me A devil that only I can see It haunts my thoughts reminding me Of what I can't seem to be I hide, I run and I work the best course Knowing not its source I blame my parents, friends and choices Anything to quiet noises I run rather afar then grow bored still Unable to find the will Trying to plod along like so many before Comes as such a chore I fight back, work and find success anew Satisfying all but you To give up and float often seems rather nice A grave danger in that vice So I carefully plod along in secrets light In this life's eternal fight Hiding in plain sight is what I must do From all but just a few Until I find the true success ever more And earn a rest in store In time I see the world as it really truly is And finally get to the gist That nobody gets to walk this life alone With no devil known As peace begins to fill my battered soul I drink far past full I feel fat, happy, warm and without worry In life's not final story ...
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Big Misery

Oh the trails of big misery They pull me ever forward Purple wildflower meadows Blankets of boggy grasslands Rocks, logs and glacial creeks Rising firs and pines touch sky Birds and squirrels interplay Passing through morning's dew  The trail an ever steady incline   Brings about a scene change I look around at trees top Amongst them in the sky blue Whats taken them years to know I have now found in a few hours Canopy below the rocks emerge Red, void, open like a planet new  Exposed left, right and center Once blanketed by snow and ice Then by howling wind and rain  Now exposed and sun drenched The extremes are not inviting Except the hawk soaring above Boots feel heavy pack tight too I look back and see the world Forward all I can see is you Snowy white and truly massive A step from jagged rock to ice The glacier a blank canvas anew So white that it illuminates all Over ground not seen by man  The ice is hard with modest slope Crackling softly under heavy ...
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Dream Catcher

The small boy grows innocent and free He roams without need for property Life is an adventure with bags packed Only for that which fits in an old sack Battles waged and deserts explored Tropical jungles and nations implored Indian wars and robbers on the train Secret agents and sports highest fame The boy hasn't much, that is understood Only a day dream in a neighborhood The parents see the dirt and the grime Dirty face and fingernails all the time  What will come of the boy they say Certain to fall behind along the way For school brings no joy or amusement Just a cage with walls of confinement For some to learn is to physically do To touch, feel, try and fail until true No heed given to failure's insecurity To dream again of a new opportunity The world is hard on a dreaming soul To conform would be best he is oft told His dreams fade under obedience praises To keep up with Jones' and enter rat races Responsibility weighs heavy on a mind Through fights with self to avoid a ...
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