de Colores

 

I watched old Cuban grandmothers
smoldering in plumes of dark tobacco
sipping water like a tonic
and imbibing rum as air
fixed into street-side stools
backed by chipped and fading pastel
porticos
reporting laughter
and the distant warbling
of novice troubadours

 

a trembling god
stirs behind the scoop of these eyes
the weightless night beneath these heels
life here is a property of energy
and like time as much a phantom
as the cold visceral reckoning
with polymorphic deities
or shape-shifting totems that ride
the greater, unnamed waters
time is what they give us
to prove life worthy of its crude components
fiercely chasing down the drunken crowds
to elbow out a niche ever broader
than the yoke of your desires

you face days with pride
the gold leonine eyes of desire
like embers burning in their sockets
wordless and pure

and in the same rush of blood

cold irons deposit their
sooty toes within your

soft belly
and stay the ripple
of jungle notes

thrumming in the heart

 

while out in cobalt waters
lean, wiry men chase and net
fish as though they were hours
caught in the mesh
that could be consumed
and redeem some waste

or failure in the past

where the sun
still means promise

Reviews

[Chaotica]

"I watched old Cuban grandmothers
smoldering in plumes of dark tobacco"

i really really liked that line, I can picture it perfectly. you have an amaazing way with words. keep it up.