Shared Strength

The light grows brighter still So bright that I close my eyes It's comfort cuts morning's chill Quietly I sit and breathe a sigh Illuminating eyes tightly closed A sphere of dull orange hew I see nothing, I would suppose Might say, I see everything too The blue jay calls from the post The chickens cackle from behind A bee buzzes around its quiet host The creek ripples a steady grind My thoughts creep ever backward Distracting effort to make known To turn my attention ever outward But today I am not overly prone I sit the noise rises ever more No longer a threat or eerie foe Allowed to sit at nature's door A gentle gift only it can bestow   Nick Campos -  May 2024

The creek flows by Like a moment with you. To capture I do try Until I see a ripple anew. Nick Campos - May 2024

Their names on a screen up high, Perhaps for just a moment in time. The pins balanced tall before them, Street shoes together below a seat. From an onlookers watchful eye, This night was not a planned affair. Perhaps realities spontaneous escape, From a life of two becoming three. Her countenance weighing heavy, As she rests her hand on the bump. He stands ball in hand and smiles, A reminder that they are still kids. Two imperfect gutter balls roll by, She matches with two of her own. They sit by each other and laugh, Comedic beauty of life's failures. She breaths lighter and watches, A ball rolled beautifully along. Smack the pins fly and many fall, Another ball falls whats remains. She walks tall back to her seat, A little joy releasing the shadows. As balls roll by they do improve, In score, hope, love and attitude. They know not that this is life, Improving steady as days roll by. The final score will not ever matter, Rather the unity in highs and lows. With someone to live, la...

Alone sitting in his chair Alone working in his garden Alone sitting at his table Alone with faded memory He stops and thinks of you He longs for little darling He gave you what he had He questions, was it enough? The world moves ever faster The clock is no friend at all The last time I stopped by The next time will be soon A memory is a funny thing A remembrance incomplete A stick in the spoke of life A hole that needs a patch So we live our separation So busy in distraction So alone with just a memory So afraid to just say the need. Nick Campos - May 2024

A little girl grows amongst the Mothers. The one of blood and others of choice. She watches, learns and discovers That which it takes to love another. With age comes added pressures, In station, appearance and worth. Outlandish contradictions of value angle to diminish a simple life. To be unique -  a flaw, to love - a weakness To be kind naivety, to follow a virtue. A wandering train without direction, Each car the same, ever following. These are the pressures cast upon, a growing girl in an unfriendly world. It does pass for those who persevere, leaving behind wisdom's understanding, A first test many a Mother endures, as the price of rejecting uniformity. Her arms grow wide, a heart wider still, Her value on virtue, love, acceptance. She stands a mother among the daughters Some of blood and others of choice They see not the scars and bruises, That created the woman before them. They relate not to her journey past, And must too the gauntlet pass. A familial story as old as time, ...

To know a love unspoken; That speaks the words that a  mouth cannot utter; That hears a language sans a sound; To feel and embrace the emotions, the push and pull of a physical  melody;  The passion and the faith, the trust and the subtle touch;   A love worth waiting for, not  in search, rather in the perfecting  nature of imperfection;  To love is to give in; To give in is to believe; To believe as a child believes, heart, soul and free; And should this quest fall short, be grateful still and believe a new;  And share again a love undaunted and know again a love unspoken.    Nick Campos - April 2024  

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