Best Arizona Poems
©1996 RICO LEFFANTA
Apache Ga-an are like the disciples of Christ, they were most highly respected
Missionaries condemned the Ga-an as “Devil Dancers,” and called them inferior
“New World” new beliefs, but even the woman and children were unprotected
Apaches totally rejected a religion where humans only are considered superior
Evil men, who taught they were above everything else, “The Chosen Ones”
Apache language was unaccepted, so punished when it was proudly spoken
Franciscan’s, Jesuits, Spaniards, Comanches, confinement, disease, and guns
Killed, called them savages, or their spirits and bodies were gradually broken
The dance ceremony is performed to drum and song, and mostly at night
Four dancers representing different cardinal directions north, south, east, west
The messenger, “clown” with a dual nature is the only one who wears white
Dancers represent mountain spirits, their masks prepared by a shaman guest
A bull roarer or whistle starts the ceremony to create an ethereal sound
The ceremony is performed at na’ih’es, girl’s adulthood initiation ritual
Flashing adding to the dazzling effect are the mirrors on the crowned
Apache, indigenous peoples, associate with spirituality and are habitual
Powerful mountain spirits and a comical teacher who heals through laughter
You may see the Ga-an rise from the flames, when you hear the messenger
The dancer’s bodies painted with symbols and patterns, stars, of here after
Today, more enlightened Americans call the Ga-an, “Crown Dancers” ~
The whistles screamed that cold dark night
Winter, 1903
At least fourteen would perish
Way out on the prairie
The westbound Sunset Limited,
Eastbound Crescent City Express,
Met head on in a collision
Lives lost in great distress
Horror met the rescuers
Two twisted trains in flames
Of fourteen known to've perished
Of two, were not found names
A hundred plus years later,
On the date and pre-dawn hour
We'd come to the memorial plaque
With Teddy bears and flowers
Holding our thoughts in silence
We walked along the trail
Remembering the violence;
Their deaths upon that rail
Precisely 2:50 A.M
What was it? We don't know
But in our silent vigil
We heard a whistle blow
Sounding clear across the night
Once long, Three short, Last long
But there was nothing in our sight
Praying - we moved along
Our memorial under silver stars
For those perished on the track
Ended as we got in cars
With one last look-
a century back
We'll never solve the mystery
But do we need to know?
Commemorating history
We heard a whistle blow
The heat of summer makes her brain gelatin
The Arizona sun turns her into a skeleton
Time and space she does not put to waste
Really, this poet lady is one of great taste
Iced tea and lemonade in the Arizona sunlight
Create an atmosphere for her that’s just right
Ink just drying on her newly crafted poem
Always ready to rate on the pole of totem
Tall she stands with stature in poet's land
Only doing right waving her magic wand
Leading other poets to higher heights
Lovely readings are on her poetic site
Everyone should look in her poetic bag
What? Jill Martin, you are now tagged!
Comments: Okay Jill, I was tagged by Tamiviolet Manchas. As a result, I have to
pass the tag along. Your name is on the top of the list. Your poetry is just
wonderful! Now, you must find a poet whose poetry you enjoy reading, and tag
that poet with a poem. Man, this is so much fun! Chau!
Oracle, Arizona gold
Is just a tale prospectors told
If you walk that land
You will find quicksand
And underneath that its just cold
She was certainly the most beautiful woman I would ever see.
Not appearing to age at all, the young lady's name was Nefertiti.
As my guide, Nef gently took me by the hand.
I saw a beautiful town where anyone else would see just sand.
There were no children in the town, but the adults did not age.
This was a place where the book of time turned no page.
The redolence of orange groves permeated the desert air.
Residents went about their daily business without a care.
I have to return to this place where nobody has to die.
This is a huge task, but it is something I have to try.
based on the novella "Now and Forever, Somewhere a Band is Playing" by the late Ray Bradbury.
When something is:
So big you can't comprehend
So beautiful there are no words to say
So impressive you feel you stand on holy ground
So perfect people journey worldwide just to gaze upon its grandeur
So endless the river will forever change it
So colorful each day with the rising and setting of the sun
So often tried but never conquered
So old it will forever be this way
So we know we are small and without Him really nothing at all
So designed by God, a natural wonder
©Donna Jones
Governor Brewer From Arizona
(song parody based on “Girl From Impanema”)
Short, tanned, governor of A-Z
Wagged finger at the commander-and-chief
That was so tasteless
And very racist
So odd!
Brewer dissed Barack Obama
And said Obama was threatening
Guards should have grabbed her
And teach her manners
By far!
Oh – is he really so thin-skinned?
Oh – don’t she know he’s a gangster?
He – killed Bin Laden with SEAL teams
Then he rescued folks from Somalis
He likes guns and diplomacy
Short, tanned, governor of A-Z
Racial profiling is so ungodly
Tell me what happens
In time
To economies
And brown folks don’t leech
And brown folks don’t leech
Arizona Heat, packing it hard
Deeper then the deepest Chocolate Windows
Framed by long lashes, ebony compassions
Dying souls oppressed by more than the hotness of the night
Mocha Skin in Summertime
Let’s Roll
Impala, Hydro, wood grain and leather
Hot, baby, Bump it louder
Stolen speakers bump it best
West Coast, East Coast, Southwest
Greenback, wetback
Brown on Brown
Murder, it’s a homicide
Of the cruelest kind
Dark Reactions
Light is no longer required here
One cannot see what isn’t supposed to be seen
Here on the borders of AZ, the grim reaper
Reaps openly
Fluctuating from victim to victim
Cherry Red Silvery distain
Drips from guns
Bang, Bang, Bang
Pull the Trigger
Drugs are no longer sins but saviors
Sell them, deal it
Steal it all
Survival Of The Fittest
Mm, it’s hot, so hot, hot
Steamy sweaty Sin
Sultry music, sexy women
Tequila, Tecate, Paradise for some
The Heat doesn’t come from the sun
But the struggle to stay alive
To survive, and thrive
Breathe
Every Pancho Villa needs a Lady by their side
Right? Dolled up, complexion perfect
Hyna, Ruka, Sweet Vixen, Mami Sexy, hit it and quit it, baby
He grabs my chin
Blowing into my face, scent, full of toxic fumes
Drunk off victory from this week’s dealings
“Money is my first love, not you, she made me RICH
So get the hell away from me, trick”
Plunges into my chest
His heart, belongs, to no one
But success
Cold steel, cold hearts, cold money
That’s all he wants, honey
The hottest thing is the tears burning down my cheeks
Weak, suppressed, the insides of me
Tearing down
I need to find a way..out
without..him
Hustling my own
using my own
devices to succeed
My soul, heedless, shall always belong
To what shaped my tough skin
Intimate Beginnings
I belong
To the Arizona Heat
The wilderness in Arizona during cowboy days was for the adventurous to journey far away from their home front into the great divide where wolves and coyotes could take their lives. They were skilled hunters and master trappers that could spot a prairie dog close ready to go up their trousers. With two horses in travel, one for each, one would take a break to stretch a bit. The mountains appeared as a majestic landscape. Cowboys had made it to the badlands today.
Their journey for the common good and to find new country brought a mind-set and a certain hunger. Never to be dissuaded, even when one got discouraged, they will conquer their demons and be triumphant from their troubles. As they camped at night, they spoke on destiny. The altitudes they had to sustain were just an achievement once claimed. Why ponder on what could be lost when they came to summit? The acmes they face now. He stands to see the apogees and views the mountains before proceeding.
Cowboys in the badlands are oblique.
Cowboys in the badlands are circuitous.
Cowboys in the badlands are seekers of faith.
Today is a day not to abandon.
Two cowboys will become jovial and rich.
Cowboys in the badlands are self-fulfilled.
___________________________________|
PENNED ON OCTOBER 09, 2014!
I am sitting at the Arizona Memorial,
which shows how far my scruples have gone.
I lived in Hawaii for years, and
could almost claim to be a kamaaina.
without the least inclination
to visit this memorial to war.
I look at the line up of people, a
new group every forty minutes, and
wonder at the numbers and differences
in races and genders and ages,
and the irony of a Japanese American
tour guide and think, Manzanar. Yet,
could this be cause for real optimism?
Is this just a job for him like the guides
at Gettysburg or Agincourt ?
Has time healed the wounds so soon?
Are events now so remote, so rapidly?
Who leads the tours at Buchenwald, and
Cherry Ridge?
I sit in the midst of tour group twelve,
the eleven-forty bunch,
and wonder what I will hear.
Will it be fair?
Will we hear of scrape metal and crude oil
as well as military factions, Tojo and the Diet?
Will we hear of honest people
on both sides
that try to avert a tragedy?
Will we hear of the millions
held in thrall
to the follies of a few?
Heat waves dancing atop the freshly laid pavement
Sun burning up skin and crimping our eyes
Flies trying to get in, but I can't save them
Poor little guys can't event realize
Let me welcome everybody to the wild southwest
A state where Wyatt Earp made history
Cities named after the end stone of our mess
Birdcage Theatre forever filled with mystery
Grand Canyons, red rocks, and cacti for days
Amerindian patches etched on the walls
Remembering the place my ancestors stayed
Walk out to go in and hear bald eagles call
Welcome one and all to the place with rays of gold
With one star on our flag, your knowledge is sold
The legendary land which until seen can only be told
Like our people, the state which can never be cold
~*~
Petrified forest
the grandest canyon of all
Monument valley
~*~
dancing mesquite trees
arid breeze through sage and sand
Saguaro just pose
~*~
wolves howl at the moon
pack of coyotes scream and cry
beep beep roadrunner
~*~
Arizona heat
a hundred ten in the shade
eggs fry on sidewalks
Opposing players join the gridiron in the valley of the sun
They feel the tension of the battle that is yet to come.
A calm then descends the playing field and the painted desert sky
Our team the Arizona Cardinals take to the field ready to fly.
The Red Sea awakens erupting in a flash of brilliant light
Opponents understand its nature and the power of its might.
The Red Sea’s voice trembles like thunder to the masses
It is alike a rolling storm except the Red Sea’s voice never passes.
Within the Sea is a roaring wind and voices everyone shall hear
This Red Sea affects all opponents causing them to dread and fear.
Opposing players look at the Red Sea eyes wild, faces pale
Their hopes and efforts already dashed, these teams shall indeed fail.
The waves of the Red Sea are livid as nothing controls it path
The Red Sea lifts the Cardinals to victory opponents shall feel its wrath.
Arizona Calling
Coyotes roaming;
Ululating at the moon,
Lonesome desert call.
the air force bases
where the sky meets the dessert
sidewinder on rocks