Lords of Latino

The Latino cries have arrived, 

Beguiling my afternoon pause, 

They roam from room to mind

Wiping away the grand harmony 

The memories I have etched into bone,

Letters in the silence of a sea,

Weeks where I have poured myself into walls 

Drum beads, 

Six- stringed pages of

Dusty electric voice.

What country bore your skin ?

What mountain laid your youth?

Exposed, singing in skies of sparrow; 

Laughing through the warm array of rocks 

Sunning pearl and beads off your Spanish bearded bloom.

I hear their paean knocks between impish giggles. Almost risen to the point of death they have come from lives of stone,

They have come to lay their hands like wondrous monks that pray their knees in solitude to bring sweetness to my soul.

 

These lovely Lords of Latino

Dancing their Thousand Hands of Buddha,

Narrating my home to fill a tin of orphan plate.

I feel them like the love of heavy arms. Like ancestors. 

But isn’t this world such a fickle wife. Isn't this time such a linear beast. Counting each child of caution. Carving rivers and life from the walls of death and wind. Someday I hope to be lost to the plague of heart. A vein of gold that tears me away as the oddesy of a fish that flies, devoted to one ocean yet stealing the sky for a Sundance of seconds, forgetting their precious home.

 

 Soon, my afternoon will be darkened and in their pause they will dig another tomb. In their arsenal of rags, now discarded, I feel my own wretchedness. I sense my legs melting down toward an absent world.

 I reach back toward their unwritten page, closing the door I begin to hold what I can, searching the floorboards for a memory.

 

Reviews

[MoriartyMesa]

Well, well, well, Charlie, speaking as a half breed. Now that is Mexican and Irish, but the Mexican side came to this land when Wounded Knee made its name. There are one or 19 things I feel our missed. Little points, but little points are like nails hanging a painting.

I know you have heard that tale.

[Marie Anzalone]

Ah, Latinos. Proud, falsely humble, fire-filled, tender, generous intriguing souls that they are. Each one convinced he was secretly born to be not just a prince, but YOUR prince. Been working with them for over 11 years; more than one has even captured quite a bit of my own heart. There is much to be said about learning to live your life with more than the average share of passion. We for the most part do far too little in our quest to earn money but not self-respect.

I like how you used what almost seem like dream images here, to blend in with real details. Nice.

[Perdition]

I want to give them piggyback rides and answer the door dressed up in a mime's voice every time. These elders have my heart.....and now my words. Thanks Marie and Thanks for the invite!!