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Best Famous Emanuel Xavier Poems

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Written by Emanuel Xavier | Create an image from this poem

WARS and RUMORS OF WARS

 “Ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars;
see that ye not be troubles;
all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet”
-Matthew 24:6

1.
I escape the horrors of war with a towel and a room Offering myself to Palestinian and Jewish boys as a ‘piece’ to the Middle East when I should be concerned with the untimely deaths of dark-skinned babies and the brutal murders of light-skinned fathers 2.
I’ve been more consumed with how to make the cover of local *** rags than how to open the minds of angry little boys trotting loaded guns Helpless in finding words that will stop the blood from spilling like secrets into soil where great prophets are buried 3.
I return to the same spaces where I once dealt drugs a celebrated author gliding past velvet ropes while my club kid friends are mostly dead from an overdose or HIV-related symptoms Marilyn wears the crown of thorns while 4 out of the 5 weapons used to kill Columbine students had been sold by the same police force that came to their rescue Not all terrorists have features too foreign to be recognized in the mirror Our mistakes are our responsibility 4.
The skyline outside my window is the only thing that has changed Men still rape women and blame them for their weaknesses Children are still molested by the perversion of Catholic guilt My ex-boyfriend still takes comfort in the other white powder- the one used solely to destroy himself and those around him Not the one used to ignite and create carnage or mailbox fear 5.
It is said when skin is cut, and then pressed together, it seals but what about acid-burned skulls engraved with the word ‘******’, a foot bone with flesh and other crushed body parts 6.
It was a gay priest that read last rites to firefighters as towers collapsed It was a gay pilot that crashed a plane into Pennsylvania fields It was a gay couple that was responsible for the tribute of light in memory of the fallen Taliban leaders would bury them to their necks and tumble walls to crush their heads Catholic leaders simply condemn them as perverts having offered nothing but sin ***** blood is just rosaries scattered on tile 7.
Heroes do not always get heaven 8.
We all have wings … some of us just don’t know why


Written by Emanuel Xavier | Create an image from this poem

IT RAINED THE DAY THEY BURIED TITO PUENTE

 It rained the day they buried Tito Puente
The eyes of drug dealers following me
as I walked through the streets
past shivering prostitutes
women of every sex
young boys full of piss
and lampposts like ghosts in the night
past Jimmy the hustler boy 
with the really big dick 
cracked out on the sidewalk
wrapped in a blanket donated by the trick
that also gave him genital herpes 
and Fruit Loops for breakfast
past the hospital where Tio Cesar 
got his intestines taken out
in exchange for a plastic bag 
where he now shits and pisses
the 40’s he consumed for 50 years
past 3 of the thugs 
who sexually assaulted those women 
at Central Park 
during the Puerto Rican Day parade 
lost in their machismo, 
marijuana and Mira mami’s
‘cause boricuas do it better


Tito’s rambunctious and unruly rhythms never touched them 
never inspired them to rise above the ghetto 
and, like La Bruja said, “Ghet Over It!”
his timbales never echoed 
in the salsa of their souls
though they had probably danced 
to his cha-cha-cha
they never listened to the message 
between the beats
urging them to follow their hearts

On a train back to Brooklyn
feeling dispossessed and dreamless
I look up to read one of those 
Poetry In Motion ads
sharing a car with somebody sleeping
realizing 
that inspiration is everywhere these days
& though the Mambo King’s body 
may be six-feet under
his laughter and legend will live forever

The next morning 
I heard the crow crowing, “Oye Como Va”
his song was the sunlight in my universe
& I could feel Tito’s smile 
shining down on me

Book: Reflection on the Important Things