Shared Strength

Her hair was dark and curly, a black skirt and blue blouse When her eyes first met mine, it was Fall and felt like Spring Too young to know much, yet seemed to know then what I do now. In a language of connected souls, connection in a gentle quiet way The world around had its voice, loud, crude and full of opinion Almost enough to be overpowered, take possession of heart's choice To greet your love is patience, as to care for a struck match in the wind Not without question or doubt, but in spite of the odds, fully focused To know your love is learning, the bumps and bruises that make you. Seeing the failure, pain and broken pieces, an eventual perfect picture To know your love is forgiveness, for the broken road I have traveled Having faith and strength to become, the man that you need me to be To know your love is power, to find my strength in your eyes gaze Looking deep inside them in weakness, a well source of perseverance To know you is to know myself, the version that I always...

The bus rolls down the road Yellow and bright Carrying it's regular load Quite the sight   Up the hill past the quarry Granite mine The corner we found Lucky Oak and pine   Left along the concrete creek Fenced drive Scenes are clear in child speak Oak divide   An early stop I want to follow Shortcut route Through the creek and hallow Second thought   Around a corner over a bridge Turtle spot Up the hill and atop the ridge Navas stop   Often a group today only me Walking alone The bus rolls until I can't see Almost home   Our yard hose distracts my plan Swing it wide It wraps me round and round Changing tide   I awake in blood on the ground Sprinkler head A helicopter is circling high Must've Sped   Mom off the porch and running Standing wobbly My judgement to her, astonishing  Hands bloody   Old Ford driving to the doctor Apply pressure A few stitches are the answer Eyebrow suture   The helicopter lands the same Hurried pace Time ca...

The wind it howls, oh, the wind it howls. Through the dead trees, oh, through the trees. Not a leaf above me, I have no company.   I'm dry as a bone, oh, I am dry as a bone. Can't believe my eyes, oh my lying eyes. Not a sight to see, I have no company.   The sky grows dark, oh, the sky grows dark. The bark growing black, oh, the bark is black. Not a prayer to levee, I have no company.   Her voice I hear, oh, her voice I hear. Love is a fading echo, oh, a dead tree echo. Not a reason to plea, I have no company.   The stone is hard, oh, the stone is hard. A grassy home, oh, a dead tree home. Not a place to flee, I have no company.   Oh, It is not a season to be. I have no company. No company.   Nick Campos March 2024

When the chips are down and there is no on around. Staring at the empty shelves Oh the lies we tell ourselves. As we await the bye and bye.   When our ship comes home and we conquer the throne. The person everybody sells Oh the lies we tell ourselves. As we await the bye and bye.   Looking down on the jokes No account worthless blokes. Their plight worst than hell's Oh the lies we tell ourselves. As we await the bye and bye.   The limelight fades in a flash but want of praise like a rash. One can't scratch themselves Oh the lies we tell ourselves. As we await the bye and bye.   The hourglass flows for all and soon the season is Fall. No time to ponder on realms Oh the lies we tell ourselves. As we await the bye and bye.   The sun fades dark and bitter bringing with it lonely Winter. A poker face hides all tells Oh the lies we tell ourselves. As we await the bye and bye.   Nick Campos  -  March 2024  

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road Onto the single lane road, I know this path by heart A small hill, the oaks, the swing hanging in the tree The miners lettuce, acorns nestled along the way Fields of star thistle in the sun drenched fields The hill crests and I pass the spot of mourning Visions of my mother sobbing over the dead The squirrel went right and then came back left A fitting burial required a shovel and a school tardy I see the tree where we hide out from the Indians Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road Down the small hill past the thicket on the right Adjacent a rope swing that has broken bones I see the speed bump, where my arm fractured A great lesson on small sticks and roller blades The day is warm, but it will soon be very hot We don't give it thought it's all we really know I pass the dog kennel where two dogs live, boxers Noses pressed to the links as they know me well Bounce, Bounce, Bounce dribbling down the road A small worn path at ...

The kindest thing never said I see you for you alone Purple hair, tattoo and all The toll of the creative battle   The kindest thing never said Thank you for seeing me Failures, mistakes and all And choosing me anyway   The kindest thing never said I will sit with you today Aging, loneliness and all  A life coming to a slow close The kindest thing never said I hear your point of view Different, faults and all Broken roads move us along The kindest thing never said Is not much really to do Small, meek and all Just takes the time to see The kindest thing never said Is sometimes not a word Mean, hateful and all In silence we hear his voice   Nicholas Campos - March 2024          

A bottle of pills Speak the words left unsaid A needled vein The story comes to an end A child is born The pride of Mom and Dad A tooth is lost The pillow of make believe A friend is made Everything is going just fine A story time The pillow shakes in laughter   A broken plate The door slams closed tight A home broken The pillow drowns the sounds A friend is lost Nobody seems to understand A birthday past The pillow the only real friend A choice is made Everything is out of control A first time The pillow silently watches A thought of hope Does it really matter anyway A child falls The pillow catches it all A life lost Long before the bitter end A call for help The pillow hears the cries A bottle of pills Speak the words left unsaid A needled vein The story comes to an end   A pillow gone Lying alone in the garbage A lid is shut The pillow is not a real friend Nicholas Campos - March 2024

Some see the darkness  The violence and the pain Giving anger a voice. Others see rainbows The beauty and the goodness Naivety a choice. Most see confusion The critical state we're in Deciphering noise. Who can I believe? With so much information Where is the wisdom? Day by day I go Watching people fall behind Focus on my own The system fractures Families break at the seems Broke capitalism Gone is pure faith Replaced by bitterness Rage against society Hate thy dumb neighbor Watch news and believe it all Negativity   Both sides always wrong Walk like pigs to a slaughter Die wrong being right   Why must we all lose Fight the stupid fight of fools Our own prideful might   Till the bitter end Each other is all we have Only friend in sight   Faith the recipe Kindness the only key unlocks Hearts of you and me   Nicholas Campos - March 2024

  My precious little bean A flower in her hair Eyes closed tight I dream A future bright and fair Her star shines bright Intelligent and kind Her beauty is a sight But pales to her mind At first I held her close Her blue eyes beamed Joy from head to toes Pure love it seamed. As she grew I did too Step by anxious step As parents often do Following in footstep.   Momma's little girl Daddy's little darling Gandma's little pearl Papa's always guarding   Tough she proved to be Challenges in time Where no match you see To her focused climb.   A smile lights the world And the quickest of wit Confidence to be bold And the grace to just sit.   A heart of fine lace To share God's kindness A sweet loving face Best not gaffed as weakness.   A life all her own We watch with esteem Into dreams unknown There goes our little Bean   My precious little bean A flower in her hair Eyes closed tight I dream A future bright and fair   Nicholas Campos - March 2024  ...

There is a hole in Papa's ears where all the words go. Where they compete with all the headlines of the day. The closer that I get, the farther away I seem to be. Cause there's a hole in Papa's ears where all the words go. We don't talk much anymore, I don't have much to say. Hell, he couldn't begin to understand me anyway. So we pass on by locking eyes with the shadow on the wall. Cause there's a hole in Papa's ears where all the words go.   We live in different worlds and we talk a little more. Little more than the weather or what's coming up today. And it comes to me that more than occasionally. That even I can make the headlines of the day.   Now a father of my own kids screaming in the lawn. I try to lean back and relax after a full day's run.  But the thoughts fly by and echo through the pines. And I can't help but think of the hole in Papa's ears   I visit Papa every Tuesday afternoon in the home. His sunken shadow drapes the wall ...