The poetry of Beto Ochoa, Prose from a spiritual warrior


The Poetry Of Beto Ochoa~ Prose from a spiritual warrior

Wednesday, October 16, 2013


We are falling forever
Through eternal space
No finish line
In an endless race

Brushed by a breath
From the Face Of God
Drawn like a flower
From the Holy Sod

Tracing a word
In the deepest dark
Finger of Fire
From a Holy Spark

Writing a tome
On the path of man
Opened at judgment
By the Holy Hand

So never forget
The Golden Rule
Do unto others
As you'd have them do

Friday, September 27, 2013

Sunflowers of September

I watch the petals fall from grace
As evening calms the day
A Sunflower late in finding root
An innocent bouquet

The seeds are scattered in the dusk
And with its dying curl
The Sun will shine where beauty stood
To prosper this new world

And little birds that God adorned
Who live upon the wing
Draw life from these who do not toil
Then to their God they sing

So we who by their beauty gain
Must follow paths of Grace
Like Sunflowers of September
As new ones take our place

Thursday, July 04, 2013


The Sun endures its Celestial Path
So we in chorus tarry on

And in the wake of traveled space

Another year has come and gone

What marks this place upon the line

Of times more ancient than we know?

The will to shed the tyrant's chains
Those who cast their fear below

Who in the seasons chill and burn

Were set to mind and charity

And of one will the die was cast

Our Nation of Fraternity

That with the pen and linen's might

The blood and treasure guarantee
Upon the Alter of God's Grace

Became The Nation Of The Free

So yes, we set this day aside

Count Thirteen past Midsummer's Eve
Remembering the Patriots Brave

Who gave to us our Liberty

Thursday, June 27, 2013


I set my finger in the stardust
And traced a winding line
The path of my ancestors
Tracked from the dawn of time

Sparkles winked as the line took form
And glinted in my eyes
Past and future were one and same
Freedom wakened in my mind

Then all my worldly thought of want
Was set upon the scales
Only light and peace remained
The end of all travails

What wonder then that we are light
And left here all alone
Pray forgive you brother’s sin
As he forgives your own

Then on that day we all repent
We’ll raise our eyes and see
The sky will rend and Heaven return
And we, once more, stardust will be


Sunday, June 16, 2013

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

The point of my poetry here,
Is to convey some understanding of my death experiences
Passing through the dimension between this existance
And the next
Not once, but twice
And that the understanding on the other side
Is fantastically overwhelming
It is too much for this consciousness
And fades as life, this life, returns to its own balance
But there in its wake, are fragments of rememberances
That the nature of time,
And the power that pulls life right out of the mud
Is part of our collective trek through a miasma of energy
I became aware of this energy after my first death
It was directional, like the flow of a river
If you could imagine yourselves standing immersed in a river
And that the water is flowing past you
And your every movement and thought and deed
Ripples and swirls the water
And creates a record of these things
As it flows around and through you
And like a river, it is circular in nature
No one part existing at a different point in time as another
All in existence as one thing
Yet our awareness is of only the moments
Fragments so small in the scope as to be smaller...
Than the quarks man pursues in his tunneled tombs of science 

Now all doubt that America is a Police State has been removed,
And our pathetic denials are whitened sepulchers,
We must say it every day
We must throw open every window
And raise all the shaded words that attempt to hide it
That people of this nature
Who would by force steal and destroy freedom
Are here, have always been here, and always will be
 My poem, Nanking, is a testament to their evil


"Gradually it was disclosed to me
that the line separating good and evil
passes not through states,
nor between classes,
nor between political parties either
but right through every human heart
and through all human hearts.
This line shifts. Inside us, it oscillates with the years.
And even within hearts overwhelmed by evil,
one small bridgehead of good is retained.
And even in the best of all hearts, there remains ...
a small corner of evil, that cannot be uprooted

Since then I have come to understand the truth of all the religions of the world:
They struggle with the evil inside a human being (inside every human being).
It is impossible to expel evil from the world in its entirety,
but it is possible to constrict it within each person.” 

"We have been happily borne
Or perhaps have unhappily dragged our weary way
Down the long and crooked streets of our lives
Past all kinds of walls and fences
Made of rotting wood, rammed earth, brick, concrete, iron railings
We have never given a thought to what lies behind them.
We have never tried to pene­trate them with our vision
Or our understanding.
But there is where the Gulag country begins
Right next to us
Two yards away from us
In addition,
We have failed to notice an enormous num­ber of closely fitted,
Well-disguised doors and gates in these fences
All those gates were prepared for us, every last one!
And all of a sudden the fateful gate swings quickly open
And hands, unaccustomed to physical labor
But none­theless strong and tenacious,
Grab us by the leg, arm, collar, cap, ear,
And drag us in like a sack,
Then the gate behind us,
The gate to our past life,
Is slammed shut once and for all"

Monday, May 27, 2013

Decoration Day

We woke up well before the dawn
Each last Monday in May
And went to all the soldiers graves
On Decoration Day

Then in full dress of blue and gold
With sash and badge and pin
We'd clean and trim and place a flag
For all our fallen kin

Day greater then than Four July
We tallied freedoms bill
And cooked upon an open fire
Till all were fully filled

Then more to point the morrows morn
Each generation train
That those with decorated grave
Have not fallen in vain

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

A Picture In My Mind

Just a little of your face before you are no more
  Just a touch of your soft hand to take along
   Just a coin that you've carried as you went your way
     Just a moment of your time to keep me strong

The elusive life that teases us in waking hours
 The frenetic pace of chasing one's own mind
  The trail of cast off things we could not do without
   The tally of the lives we leave behind

Thursday, February 07, 2013

Falling Magic

Falling snow 'neath the old street light
Wonders dancing on a winter's night
Jack frost in the corner panes
Crystal paint in glassy frames

Bundled warm with the purring cat
Dog on the couch for a evenings nap
Cocoa steams in the painted crock
Twig and stone, pop and talk

Only here for this little time
The little things, God's great sublime.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Frozen Time

I thought of that moment
Frozen in time
My lips touched yours
Your lips touched mine
And sunshine streamed on our frozen faces
Covered with golden lights

Laughter hung in the breeze transfixed
Well on its way to triumph
Birds set still on the wing
All for the moment to pass away
Safe in the knowledge we shared this spell

Walk in the light and share your spark
A new world is setting its paces
The republic of one must needs be come
And we will fill its places

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My families came to Texas when It still belonged to Spain.



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