Two Captive Warrior Press

27/12/2023

I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be there for you more nephew,
I tried. Now you walk with our ancestors in the sky, and next to your father with no pain. I love you and I will miss you Robert.🤎.

There, offering in front of the Moon,
Singing with sorrow and planting sorrow.
A sad flower, I go with my face down.
Only inside my heart, inside there sad.
Only when I cry there sometimes, I go, seeing my spirit.
We are now the concerned parents, next to the Battlefield.
Gently grasping our hearts, the warriors fallen body.
True compassionate Giver of Life,
hear the spirits of the land.
How long must I carry my petatl made a palm leaf,
before I perish?
My heart wishes for happiness.
Sitting there outside, I cry out.
Giver of Life, heal my broken heart.

11/04/2023

24/11/2022

Compadre

A door will be revealed next to your temple.
Someone will reveal the origins of the seven caves,
With cedar smoke and indigenous ceremony.
Through there, your energy will transcend space and time.
Compadre, you fly so beautifully.
Hello Macaw, my compadre.
The Macaw is my pulse; my pulse is the Macaw.
Go through here Macaw, and be filled with water.
It is over the sacred ball court, you will be able to sing.
Go with happiness and prosperity.
Answering and feeding future generations like
The sacred corn.

03/06/2022

30/04/2022

A flower poem from my book,
The Pain Of A Warrior.

Near The Altar

To the far, the near and everything in between.
There, talking with sorrow and
living with stubbornness.
You are worried here on the land.
Please go calmly, truly be kind, my relatives.
Be happy there is no one with arrogance
next the beautiful day.
Certainly, they go about here
having only selfish desires.
Growing a sickness, the worried become tense.
Abandon sickness here near the water.
Only modesty there near the altar,
in hopes it captures envy.
It is necessary to capture it at the base of the altar and begin ceremony.
There I lie at night near the altar and
the Giver of Life,
Reborn.

18/04/2022

Available in Kindle and paperback editions

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09TN3H3FG

"Flower and Song" are the most popular of the twenty main genres of the ancient writings of the Meso-American Nahuatl-speaking people. These are my inspiration for this volume of poetry. "Acknowledging indigenous ancestors, here we offer our poems. May these poems help you endure the pain and suf...

17/04/2022

“…Acknowledging indigenous ancestors, here we offer our poems. May these poems help you endure the pain and suffering of the moment. May the memory and spirit of our ancestors remain in existence throughout time. Letting their medicine heal our people, letting their medicine heal all people.
Relatives and friends, don’t be shy. Press the link for my poem book, click on the book and read the first several pages. Help me send it to the four corners of the earth.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09TN3H3FG

16/04/2022

A flower poem from my book,
The Pain Of A Warrior.

Mictlan

Who hears me?
Certainly my children.
Be well-rounded and sing with the eagle.
Drink, mother nature will nurture you.
Sprout, bud , and then blossom,
Then afterward take hold little warriors.
I am still heading north to Mictlan,
It’s coarse door is visible in front of me.
Perhaps slowly buried without anything
by the conqueror.
I shall arrive, arrive like jade.
I shall arrive, arrive like a beautiful quetzal feather.
While the conqueror shall crumble like rotted wood,
As they fall in to the abyss.

28/03/2022

A flower poem from my book,
The Pain Of A Warrior.

In The Pinegrove at Night

Traveling the path, we go singing.
Always singing while we plant corn.
The beautiful ones disguised at night,
In the place where the falcon sings our song.
While turning over dried ears of corn,
In the Pinegrove at night.
Get up as the strong falcon sings.
No one can order repair.
Make an offering to the universe.
The one who makes an offering to the universe,
Repairs order.
Go, follow the path with difficulty.
Whoever arrives tired on the path surpasses humility.
Drink in the place of cornstalks.
Where we make an offering to the universe,
Singing like rain.