“Eighteen”

Ten years ago,

You were so excited to see me

That you raced over to me on your bike

And crashed into me forgetting to brake!

My poor baby, you ended up hurt,

But daddy was there to dry your tears.

Eight years ago we went to the movies

And you had such a good time,

That you would always ask me when

We would go back to watch another movie.

It’s moments like these that make life

Worth living and enjoying.

Recently you learned to drive,

And now you have a driver’s permit!

I can’t believe that day has finally come,

My baby will be a licensed driver soon.

It’s both scary and exciting all at once.

You’ll be the legal age to vote,

And these days, your vote matters.

No longer that little baby girl

That would hold onto my finger

As I would watch over you as you slept.

You gave me purpose,

I lived only to raise you and educate you

And teach you how to survive, and adapt.

My pride and joy,

I have loved watching you grow

Into the smart and beautiful lady you are.

Happy Birthday, my Virgo princess.

Poppers loves you forever and ever!

©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2020

“43”

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5,

4, 3….

Today I turned 43.

But, I don’t feel any older

Than I did yesterday.

As I take a long pull from my wooden pipe,

I start to think about all the hearts I have broken…

Lives that I destroyed back in my youth.

It’s no wonder why karma is such a cruel mistress.

I recall the day she first showed up.

Dress all torn, hair all a mess.

Two birthdays ago she just walked up to me,

Told me that she was here to collect a debt,

And immediately I knew, I knew exactly why she was here.

I had known for years that this day would come.

So I accepted what came my way.

Today on my birthday, I stand before you, broken but humbled.

Looking back I regret a lot of things,

But I know that all of that is in the past.

Nothing I can do now to change it.

I lost a lot, hurt a lot, cried a lot…

Now that I am a another year older, I can only reflect,

And move forward with a more positive outlook and direction.

© Mauricio Rincon 2020

“An Offer To The Sun God”

The sun was setting.

Bright orange was the sky.

Murky gold were the clouds.

Two men face to face.

Both stood atop the tallest pyramid in all of Anahuac.

One of them was the chief of the Aztec tribes.

The other one was a distinguished conquistador commander.

Each held their ground.

A standoff –

“Fuck this guy, who the fuck does he think he is?

Coming here to my land and trying to take my people away?

Bringing disease with their nasty asses!!”

These were the thoughts in the chief’s head.

“Indigenous native scum!

How dare he oppose our religious beliefs!

My God shall smite him and his people!

That bastard will learn to kneel before me!!”

These were the thoughts in the conquistadors head.

A standoff no more as the chief suddenly decapitated the conquistadors head clean off.

Well, not so clean, it was actually really messy.

The Aztec chief just stood there and raised the head as an offering to the Sun God.

And the Sun God seemed pleased, for soon after there was a loud hush over the city.

Purple lightning lit up the sky and then the loud voices of the nation were heard again.

One small victory in the impending war that would soon be on its way…

 

©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2019

“Sex On A Cloud”

Let’s get high,

And tickle the sky.

You know why…

Cause you look so fly.

We kiss and we don’t stop,

As you lay down I get on top.

I know your body, I know your every spot,

Make you tingle and smile a whole lot.

Best friends make for the greatest sex,

Got me all excited after that last naughty text.

Pass me the joint, cause I got next.

We’re just getting started, watch me flex.

Mamacita, I love your juicy lips.

Let me see you turn and twerk those hips…

Tasty like my favorite bag of chips,

No regrets as we enjoy this magical trip.

©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2019

”Memory Lane”

Sitting in my room,

Thinking about those days

Where we would stay up all night.

Talking about our hopes and dreams.

I miss how we would cuddle,

Watching your girly shows.

How you used to tease me

Because I would get all into them.

Coming home to you

Was the best feeling in the world.

Laying down next to you,

I never felt alone.

You were always safe with me.

I would always comfort you.

I never gave you bad advice.

You never had any reasons to cry.

Now all I can do is reminisce.

This room feels empty without you,

It’s too quiet and lonely here.

I just wish you would come back.

©Mauricio Rincon ®Skeletal Abstract 2019

“Rain”

I’ll never understand why Tony! Toni! Tone! sang a song about

“It Never Rains In Southern California”.

Did they even live in California when they wrote that?

Because I can confirm that IT DOES rain in Southern Cali.

Like a lot.

To the point that it gets to be very annoying.

I don’t see the fascination or the attraction that you all seem to have with rain,

Because that shit is just dirty water and filled with chemicals.

Why can’t the rain just do its thing on weekends when I have no plans?

Rain on the weekends is the perfect cuddle weather.

Rain during a work week and during work hours is just a nuisance.

If  you can teach me a rain dance that will make it go away, sign me up.

Otherwise, I’ll just be right here being a rain hater.

©Mauricio Rincon       ®Skeletal Abstract 2019

“42”

Life is a lot like baseball.

Growing up is basically like being in the minor leagues.

That is where you learn how to play the game.

That is where you learn the basic rules.

That is where you sharpen your skills.

It is where special bonds are created and formed.

By the time you reach the age of adulthood,

You are expected to perform at your best,

Because now, you are in the major leagues.

From here, you will either rise to be a star,

Or fall hard like a foul ball into the right field stands.

This will be my 42nd season,

And I must admit, I have enjoyed every last minute of it.

Nothing in life will ever be perfect,

But nothing says we can’t have fun and live each day to our best ability.

So here’s to another amazing season, cheers!!

 

©Mauricio Rincon       ®Skeletal Abstract        2019

“In Memory Of Alma Hernandez”

I’m at a loss…

Words can’t describe.

My heart is broken.

I can’t stop the tears…

I’m angry,

What the fuck Alma?!

Why did you have to go so sudden?

My dear, sweet friend.

Thank you for being true.

Thank you for being the realest.

Thank you for your words.

Thank you for listening.

There will never be another like you.

I just hope you are in a better place.

Make sure to crank up the music,

Turn up Amy Winehouse on full blast!

Make the angels sing along with you.

Tell Stan and my grandparents I said hello.

Give them all a big hug for me.

Watch over me, all of you.

Your memory will live on with me.

Your life will be celebrated.

I will never forget you.

Rest in peace, heaven has a new angel.

©Mauricio Rincon  ®Skeletal Abstract 2018

“Alive”

As I sit underneath the stars

It’s amazing to think,

They’re sending people to Mars!

Which planet does God live on?

Does anyone know?

Are all the planets filled with life

Or are they just there for show?

Questions upon questions…

Answers are infinite.

But to one day see other lifeforms

Yeah, I’m down, I’m into it…

Would they be aliens?

Or would we be the ones?

Would they greet us with hugs

Or an explicit amount of guns?

Peace is just a dream

Or maybe just a thought

Are we truly alone out here?

Nah, I’m thinking that probably not.

© 2018 Mauricio Rincon

“Wind Factor #3”

As the wind races over
The contours of my body,
My ears freeze up as if
Being embalmed with nitrogen.

The wind is running rampant,
But, has no real destiny.
It lives to caress me like
An eager, excited lover.

The wind gives me the kind of chills that could break
The thickest of frost riddled ponds.
Ice begins to glaze across my neck,
Giving me brainfreeze like
After eating a slushee.

A raven swoops by and croaks out
What sounds like a mating call.
Another smaller raven gives chase
As they rendezvous with a third raven up into the clouds.

The wind begins to pick up its’ momentum.
Where in the hell is this damned bus?
I’m about to turn into an ice cube out here.
Wait, here it comes…

Excuse me while I put my pen on ice.

 

© Mauricio Rincon 1994