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Lizett Garcia

Breast with me, beating like a bird. In our moment all hope soared with a fragrant moon and kissing was the mixing of culture. At these depths I felt what tore at the threads of your music. I met the guns of El Salvador. I touched the pallid flesh of your dead riveted friends. I hosted your nightmare of butchers. Your fingers are refined for the making of music. Your thumbs are peasants, ready for revolution. Published Black Buzzard Press - 1982 Political- personification

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Date: 6/14/2020 3:58:00 AM
I really enjoyed this, Thomas - the depth and layers, but especially your word use and imagery, and the musical metaphors, (I am a musician) ... very powerful, but much beauty as well. Adding to my favorites! Blessings!
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Thomas Wells
Date: 6/14/2020 12:56:00 PM
Hello Gregory, Thank you very much! I am glad you picked up on the musical metaphor. I seem to experience a sense of music quite often when writing poetry. As a musician, you undoubtedly experience this yourself. Be safe and have a wonderful day! Shalom and paz!