two poems by Tomas Nieto

Tomas Nieto

Tomas Nieto

Tomas Nieto is a writer and educator from San Diego, California. An alum of Las Dos Brujas and VONA/Voices, his work has appeared in Solstice Literary Magazine, The Rumpus, Mud Season Review, and others.

Circle of Doves
After Patricia Smith

Your heart throbs steady
to the heat, to the linger.
Let it dip into the pit
of you. Open the hollow
from the middle. Bloom.

                                              Look for the tilted
                                              wonder in someone you love.
                                              Let go of that why.
                                              Hold that stunning dear. Savor
                                              that gratitude, that window.

A good meal can soothe
a madness. Chew till your mouth
brews its own medicine. Don’t
hurry. Let it run through you.
Collect all the falling leaves.

                                              Architect the map
                                              and the compass turns aimless:
                                              burn your lost and walk.
                                              Let the primal be and lift.
                                              Temper your grind on this stone.

Heart-beat the last line
until you grace your giving.
When you do, send it
full lotus, no burden.
Unlatch the monsoon.

                                              Suspend the fire
                                              in the center, torch and all.
                                              Your inner water
                                              emerges when your brush paints
                                              the layers flickering light.




Threading Wind

Grandma Nen’s left hand held
my clean shirt by the collar
as she pushed the hook of the hanger
into the left sleeve. That’s not right
she murmurs. Then, she flipped
the hanger around and the hook
went into the right. The button-down
limped sideways like her memory.
Her hands shook as she threaded
the wind through my limbs.
She stuttered Like this?
I took her hands
into mine and replied
Like this: