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Best Mexican Poems

Below are the all-time best Mexican poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of mexican poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Mexican poems, articles about Mexican poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Mexican poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...

New Mexican Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Mexican poems are below this new poems list.

The Mexican Wave by Shaw, Kevin
The Mexican Cleaning Lady Is Smiling by Olson, Richard
My Mexican American Struggle- Spanish by orozco, daniela
Sweet Bubbling Brown Mexican Sugar by Williams, Marilyn
Lazy-Man's Mexican Cuisine by Ryerson, Tim
Brevity-The Mexican Cock by Gallardo Hesterberg, Giana
Besame Mucho, Juanita, the Mexican girl by Alexander, Prince
Bandito The Mexican Cat by williams, john
Mexican Jumping Beans by williams, john
Concerning The Preparation of Mexican Cuisine by Ryerson, Tim

View all new Mexican Poems

The Best Mexican Poems

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Caring For My Mother - A Letter To A Loving Friend

I sit here alone...wondering...how much longer this...and in hearing 
the question a silent icy fear blankets my body...the answer would 
come wearing both masks...tragedy...comedy...this is my life. with
freedom comes death...it hangs over me like a Mexican piñata filled 
with chocolate covered blades...so each day firmly slipped into 
neutral I exist...barely a choice to live...so I ask myself...how
did I get here...the answer comes thundering from up above...
a dead poet speaks...son that is the path you chose at your fork 
in the road... you don't argue the truth...you just throw cold water on 
your face...no...you step into a frigid shower...cleanse your thoughts
...stand in defeat happy to feel something even if it is just the pain of 
your nerve endings screaming...soaking wet and naked is the only life 
you presently afford yourself...there is no one to hear your tears...
what little sound they make rolling down your cheeks...they are not 
self pitying but rather wanting...of a loss so deep...what in your own 
self appreciation defined you...you want back your art...it...that so 
often led you back to the promised land...still you are not that hot 
headed fool you once were...you will not stand on the mountain only 
to shatter the tablets with their ten commandments...a cooler head 
prevails...so you think...like a soap opera...these are the days of my
life...I am strong and vibrant...yes I am and I will walk as slowly as I 
must towards my light and yes I will come out the other side a better 
man for this. 


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

In the Harem of the Flower Kisser

at the break of dawn a Hummingbird starts his rounds Morning Glory sought flaunting a red hue - Mexican Sunflower tempts looking hot, hot, hot the Don Juan of birds sucking nectar from Beardtongue. . . drunk on French kisses Goldenrod at noon. . . Zephyr carries a sweet scent beneath a gold sun between Rose bushes the Flower Kisser gets lost in Blue Infinity Sweet Pea and Bee Balm entice with purple petals. . . Bees join the orgy Monarchs swarm in droves when blue Hummingbird alights on Butterfly Bush Evening Primrose waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . . the proper lover the Flower Kisser leaves his harem sated as white Moonflower glows *The capitalized names for flowers represent some of the most popular flowers visited by hummingbirds.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Stoned Pen - Humor

I feel privileged. I have been chosen by the Government as part of a group testing something called Edible Clinical Marijuana. Honestly I half expected it to look like a Burrito because the name sounds sort of Mexican. It actually looks more like a brownie. I’m am about to take a bite so hold on. Yum, tasty! So here is the point I am suppose to consume one half of a brownie then fill out this sheet giving them my feedback. Hold on I am going to have a few more bites. Okay, no wait, milk would go great with these babies. I’ll be back. (after a long while) OK, sew sorry I was gonna while I was staring inside my fridge\ for a while' tying to remember I think I wanted a glass of ink% aktiually I’m dinking from the bodle@ I am eating my forth brownie as I was instructured to do; Did they say four or? ate cause these. are tasty And/ aaaahhhhhhh,, tasty^ tayysstee^ hahahahahahahahaha"" a program on my compuwhatyoucallit keeps underlyning my words with read squiggles= hahahahahahahahaha but it diidn’t underline squiggle# hahahahahahahahaha wel dats stoopid squiggle isa perfect lee good underlying word* stoopid Bill Gated^ hahahahahahaha?haha sorry I ment Will Gated~ so watt was I saying ] oh yeah+ fill the sheet) hahahahahahahahaha I don wanna sheet, tha is gaross[ heeres a pen quesshun= Sex easy! ansir; yes- please) hahahahahahahahaha ?why m i bein so polite hahahahahahahahaha queshun! oh wow Blues Brothers on my TV what was I spose? to do oh yeah watch tv why am i so angry hahahahahah++ hahahahahahahahaha i mean hungary haahahahahah h u n g r y dere hungry> hey look brownies? those look good hahahahahahahahaha i con't tipe with mai mouth full dats rood/rood i'll get bak too dis later.. sew as they say hahahahahahahahaha two bee contitnude< hay lookk browniies Mo Rice Why Vone 144~13~20/20 Sponsor: Carol Eastman Contest: Humor

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

We Are Not So Different

I'm a Catholic,You're a Muslim I'm an Orthodox ,You're a Protestant I'm a Hindhuist,You're a Buddhist You're an Atheist,and I am a Mormon too. You're an African,I'm American You're an Asian,I'm a European You're a Mexican, I'm an Indian You're an Arab,I'm a Jew But prior to all our distinct differences I'm a Mother ,I'm a Father I'm a Sister,I'm a Brother I'm a Son,I am a Daughter and I'm Human just like you.

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Irresponsibility Day

I wake up to my TV blasting episodes of Woody Woodpecker.

I wipe my encrusted eyes, which had a field day in that dream I had
Involving two Swedish women, a Latin princess
With curvaceous hips that could save me if I ever fell from mountain climbing,
A Sony boom box made in 1984 playing Duran Duran,
And empty boxes of Junior Mints, M&M Peanuts, & Cool Whip.

I walk to my front door to discover hundreds of blood lettered Post-It notes
Slid under by my friendly Mafia neighbors, 
“Turn that crap down or say ‘HOLA’ to my little friend! Woody sucks! ”

So, instead of apologizing, I grabbed my power drill
Which I bought off this Mexican guy named Bob
Standing in front of my local Home Depot,

I thanked each of my neighbors by drilling Wal-Mart smiley faces
Smoking Cuban cigars & holding Shotguns
Into their doors

At this point, I popped in some Belgian waffles & French Toast sticks
Into my Cookie Monster toaster oven and turned on the news.

What was I thinking?!

News reports on Sugar Daddies being harassed by stalking gold-diggers,
Another asinine Final Destination movie,
More teacher-student scandals,
Celebrity break-ups & pregnancies
Oh, how the sheep live vicariously through them

Where’s that damn noose I bought off Bob?!

To remove my early morning frustrations,
I turned on my Xbox 360 and popped in Guitar Hero
In which I jammed out to Stevie Wonder’s Superstitious
While performing Riverdance on my hardwood floor

The neighbors below me added a nice, rhythmic sound with their broomsticks.

After my Pilates workout, I decided to strip off my clothes
So I can feel FREE like a Tree-hugging barn swallow
And fill my bathtub with a bottle of Tickle Me Elmo Bubble Bath liquid,
Which I also bought off Bob

Shortly after, I yelled “THIS IS SPARTA!” and performed a belly flop into the tub…

After waking up from my concussion, I laughed maniacally
With my face underwater
My laughs were heard through the popping bubbles rising to water’s surface

I passed out again with a drumming thud against my porcelain dreams.

Second attempt at recovery, SUCCESS!

I gathered all my utility bills
A filled, plastic gas tank, another purchase from Bob
And a Jerry Garcia branded lighter

As inferno warmed my screaming loins,
Blasting John Lennon’s “Imagine” on my 8-Track,
The local Fire department sliced my front door
With titanium axe and an inscription: “Here’s Johnny”

As hundreds of angry firemen & neighbors stampede into my child-like day


3pm, Day Unknown:
I awaken with lines imprinted on my Latin cheeks
From wooden office desk
Strange stares from coworkers
With “I’m all out of Love” playing on the faded, company radio

And a post-it note, “Come see me in my office”,
From Bob

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Better World

I dream of a better world, a better place to roam. No more pain, lies, no more hatred shown. This perfect world I live in, doesn't matter if your skins dark or light. Everyone's treated equally, whether your Mexican, Asian, or white. No prostitutes, selling themselves out on the streets. No poor people, they all have real food to eat. Killing has stopped, it doesn't exist anymore. Murderers have found, better things to live for. No more tragedies; there is no more war. My world's at peace, there are better things in store. Soon to be mothers, show their babies nothing but love. In my world, abortion's never been heard of. Drugs and alcohol, it's all gone. Broken hearts, crushed dreams, life always goes on.

Copyright © Ruth Nuno | Year Posted 2012

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Mary's Shrift

Indigenous woman—rarely accompanied by their
white sisters—or their men enter 
through the side door
of St. Peter’s Church.

Here they are boxed in cool stucco,
and stained-glass. A flock of Mexican 
Madonna’s shift today to encompass 
their fairer sister:

Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo.
Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es
el fruto de tu vientre:,Jesús.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. 
Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is 
the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. 

Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros,
pecadores, ahora y en la hora ... 

drones on—and on—and on

within the heavenly heights of gilded frescos—bleeding—
rainbows prism the room in false light, kaleidoscoping upon
the walls—murals of  brocade, gold-threaded catch random  rays.

Woman anchor the pews with their desires—

Pliant and pleading these mothers beseech Mary to intercede:
for first class citizenship (inside and outside the Church) 
for work, for health, for a better life for their children.

Voices of the lamb bleating; dinner for the wolves, they pray.

SHORT SHRIFT-little or no attention or consideration

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Origin

Where do I come from? Well we all come 
from somewhere. I was born in a small 
town, here in in good old U S of A. South 
to the border, by the Rio Grand. Mission 
Texas is the town's name.

My real parents came from Mexico. My
grandmother, it was said  - she came from 
Spain. My grandfather was indian. He fought 
in the Revolution. Both were on my mother's

On my father's side, never knew too much, 
only that the grandmother died kind of 
young. The grandfather died years later, but
I never got to know them.

My father left my mom, when I was only three.
He never came back. My mother gave away my 
sisters, than later she gave me. She only kept
my brother, maybe she couldn't keep me.

I was raised with a nice lady and her husband.
I learned to call her mom. That title she had 
earned and my respect most of all. My parents
that raised me were poor, but made sure I had 
something to eat. My mother made my dresses 
so that I could go to school.

I learned to read and write and enjoyed school
very much, but I had to quit at fifteen to help my
parents out. Years later I went back and finished
my High School. 

I did not go to college , or mastered in any degree. 
I am what you might call self taught. For about thirty
years I worked with electronics and did my job well.
I gained respect from my bosses and high top

My parents taught me good values that have helped 
me  through out life. I am not ashamed of my 
origin, of Mexican Heritage I came. I am what you
would call a TEX. MEX. and I live up to my name...

Just a little about myself. Hope
you enjoy it.

written by Lucilla M. Carrillo

Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo | Year Posted 2012

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Mystery of Men

My car is equipped with maps and a GPS
With a great fear of getting lost I am obsessed
Men seem to have a different navigation system
Asking for directions is too far beneath them
Tony and I embarked on a cross-country tour
Didn’t start out that way, just took multiple detours
Tony didn’t like the GPS talking voice
Rather than listen, he turned it off by choice
Each time we stopped for gas, I wanted to seek help
But if I approached someone, Tony’d let out a yelp
The White Mountains should have been a hundred-mile drive
With two days on the road, I thought I’d not survive
“Turn right now, make a left, heck just keep going straight”
Commands from the King of the Road did not abate
But it wasn’t until we saw the first palm tree
That I’d had my fill and let out an urgent plea
“Huh,” he replied, “guess YOU drove just a bit off course
Those Canadians will want to see our passports”
“That’s the Mexican border patrol up ahead!”
I screeched, turned around and away I quickly sped

*For Francine's "Whatever You Say, Dear" Contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

All That You Imagine

My imaginary restaurant will be named “All That You Imagine.”
Any food you can imagine, you will be served.
Thanks to technology and a world-class cooking staff,
I can offer my patrons any food that they desire.
However, they must book their table three days in advance!
If their wish is for a dish like their mama used to cook,
they need only provide my chefs with the recipe or its description.
If their palate leans to the exotic, they need only give its name.
My research team, like no other, can track down any foreign dish.

From All-American delights like mac‘n cheese or burgers and fries
to all the others: Indian, Mexican, Brazilian, Chinese, Italian, French,  
and the list goes on and on.  We can do it all! Everyone wants to come here!
By the way, my restaurant has become a tourist attraction.
Renowned for its varied and eclectic menus, it is visited by thousands daily.
If restaurants were malls, mine would be the largest and the most incredible.

Patrons may reserve a private room or choose a table 
from one of many wondrous atmospheric sections.
Each section is a restaurant in and of itself, with its own kitchen 
and a staff of waiters and waitresses dressed as befitting that section’s theme.
From jungle room to bar and grill to futurist (where servers dress in pristine white),
I have over one hundred types of settings to match the mood and the type of food;
some with karaoke, some with splendid views, utilizing IMAX, for example,
some with magic shows, others with comedy, and one room with a waterfall
where divers perform amazing feats. There are classic sections
where patrons may dance in ballroom style; imagine any type of music you like,
I am sure we have it in one of our beautiful sections!
For the romantics, candlelight dinners can be enjoyed next to a faux River Seine.

Tourists, for a small fee, may observe the many rooms in a guided tour.
We use technology that allows the tours to not disturb our diners.
It’s that same technology which allows my restaurant to flourish,
for expert computer techs arrange for the smooth operation
of matching patrons to sections and coordinating everything efficiently.
Favorite recipes may be purchased from us too in our gift shops.
Souvenirs and samples of our most popular food items 
are sold there along with a wide array of unique gifts!

Nothing is impossible in “All That You Imagine.” 
Well, except for one thing: No endangered specie, such as monkey or koala
will be served here!

(Getting ready to enter the contest I noticed I had misread the rules. Sorry, I don't know if I can redo it any other way. I am calling this prose and hoping it's acceptable!)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.


It was 1999
Shotgun rider
2000 green mustang
My sis, always beside her

Landed the same job
Only Mexican restaurant in town
Put gas in our car
Kept our wheels going round

All dolled up
Kissed our parents goodnight
Pretend to go to bed
Cruising feeling right

Idiots with wheels
License to drive
Dr. Pepper and cigarettes 
Never felt so alive

Introduced to Mary Jane
She was a silly lady
Laying on the hood of our car
Listening to Slim Shady

Hungry for boys
Just a tease
Looking fly in our prime
The birds and the bees

The dawning of 2000
Life as we knew it, about to end
Eyes met at 12:01
We both began to grin

Cheers to a good year
Twice as old as I was then
Thinking of my sis today 
Missing my best friend

Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2015

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.


A din ensued
my imaginary brood
with a good dose of misapprehension
hauled out their toys
and with a deafening noise
held band practice to demand my attention

My head resounded
I was astounded
as my voices insisted space be freed
then took up position
for a spit competition
unless their demand I would heed

"Spit all you may
I refuse to be swayed
back to your cupboard, skeleton folk
all was well hitherto
with my self-made crew
till my head friends you chose to provoke."

"Dear host, you're unfeeling
to your good sense we're appealing
repeal the bones' non grata status
or your imaginary crew
will hold a coup
assisted by our posse comitatus." 

"Skeletons and friends
your logic transcends
admittedly you've much courage and clout
I'll have to engage
with our very own sage
the inimitable Shadow of Doubt.

"After due consultation 
and much deliberation
Shadow and I decision had reached
you may rant;  you may rave
do the Mexican wave
yet still be punished for my rules you have breached.

"The imagineries and Hubbard
to inhabit the cupboard
access to my head is forever denied
you skeletons will hoard 
keep my secrets well-stored
in my head where you henceforth will reside."

There's no happy ever after
my world is now dafter
cramped, the skeletons keep knotting their chains
with more space at hand
my imaginary band
multiplied.  I'm now doubly insane


Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2013

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Desert Moon true story

I live in Tucson, in a trailer court on the South side
All Mexican, except for me the old Gringo
I speak Spanish, can get along with most anyone
With all the Mexican border drugs, things can get wild
I am getting old and taking things slow
Was sort of a paradise in the Arizona Sun

The owner has lights, security cameras, claims to be drug free
Even claims to be a heavy duty born again
Not like us old folks and sinner on the South
After a couple of years of watching, seemed counterfeit to me
Said by him last weekend, "This land is blessed, sin cannot get in"
He is one of those feller, born with a silver spoon in his mouth

There has been a murder conspiracy after me for years
By the Old Witch and the Mexican Mafia that continues
Severel months back I could feel a change in the atmosphere
It was the old witch had moved in, with her bucket of fears
Trying to scare me and make me sing the blues
Make me think that my end was near

But then last weekend I saw it all, a crystal ball view
The owner lives in California, was in town
Fell on hard times and the park is empty
Went to the witch and money people, "Anything that is what I will do"
But soon the Devil will let him down
Only to add to his up coming misery

He sold his soul to the Devil, just for a little gain
And maybe when it all comes down, will end this conspiracy
A long story made short, to the court I will report
Set me free, for him will be eternal pain
For a man that sold his soul, God can give no mercy
There are no troops in his fort

Tried to take my last dime, leave me down and out
But I knew that God would not let me fail
I can over come this evil pair
With God, the Devil cannot run me out
You see if have sort of left a "Paper Trail"
"Joe you have sold your soul, you don't even have a prayer"

Copyright © Danny Nunn | Year Posted 2010

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Promises Kept

I’ll never forget the day I first kissed you,
Oh how you blushed that first tender day,
How I whispered softly all I felt for you
And promised heaven would start on earth.

Look back my sweetheart and tell me true
If indeed my promises I have faithfully kept,
Don’t linger too long to answer, my cherished one,
I know I could never have disappointed you yet.

Did we not enjoy our honeymoon so full of enchantment?
Where music mesmerized us with melodious Mexican strains?
Served with food of finest, inimitable delicacies, satiated
Our appetite till we danced until the early hours of the day?

Then life’s humdrum came upon us, but we always laughed.
We went for walks and like newlyweds, we kissed and smiled.
Until as years rolled on, I got promoted and we could afford
A bigger house to fill with our dear little charming sons.

And come what may, for I know life is short,
I will always maintain my vows and promises
I uttered with great sincerity on that lovely day
When we held hands and exchanged rings
And uttered that for us it was for better or for worse.
Still, if we had our lovely lives anew to start 
You’ll always be right here in my heart.

26 May 2017

Placed 1
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Ancient Light

A story inscribed in the constellations
of the punctate canopy of night
Perseus astride the winged Pegasus
Hurtling to save his fair maid Andromeda 
from the beastly Cetus the seasick sea-serpent
While her folks, Cepheus and Cassiopeia 
gawk dispassionately
Poor parenting enshrined above us

The pancaked 2-D IMAX look
of the heavenly vault 
belies the relevant numbers—
Trillions, quadrillions of 3-D miles between,
My retinas bathing in light decades old
Not a preschool connect-the-dots
but a giant mobile 
of impossibly remote thermonuclear furnaces
turned cosmic Rorschach test

My eyes drink the mother of pearl 
galactic smudge in the telescope
and I feel you gaze right back
Ancient light, yet a staring presence
a Mexican standoff of unfathomable dimensions
Telescopes at 600 hexillion paces, pardner
Don’t blink

Is it my imagination, or your mind?
Crazy quarks’ quantum entanglement
making instant “spooky action” at a distance 
40 million light years away
Hundreds of quintillions of miles
whatever in God’s name that is
There you are again; I feel you
Verizon Universal Consciousness Connection
That’s going to be a heck of a phone bill
but I’ll be long gone by then
I think


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Cowboy Is

The unsung heroes of the open plains The outlaw bandits like Jesse James Cut throat thieves and black jack hustlers Green horn Cowboys and long horn rustlers They all stood the Cowboys test A stetsons man a broncos best Leather chaps and leather vest A real man's man a cut above the rest Blazing saddles and blazing guns Long trail ride and mountain runs Chuck wagon chilly and camp fire sites Hot sweaty days and long cold nights A Cowboy sits on his faithful steed Quick draw fingers based on speed Bandanna mask and whiskey flask A Cowboys job is'nt an easy task Tabacco chew and cow beef stew a Cowboys gang and Cowboys crew They did work from dusk to dawn round 'em up and brand 'em all day long Gee!!! and haw!!! right and left Yee and haw out of breath Cowboy slang and Cowboy lingo even Mexican Cowboys that say Gringo Greetings y'all and howdy stranger long lost wranglers and lone rangers Ruff and rugged with no frills Ask questions later shoot to kill Yellow belly buckaroos and snake oil peddlers wanted dead or alive outlaws and frontier settlers From the California gold rush of 48 to the 13 colonies of this great state Cowboys lived and Cowboys died!!!! Cowboys give for Cowboys pride!!!

Copyright © John Castro | Year Posted 2011

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Little Donald's Tale

Donald, what are you doing with all those trash cans?
Building a wall Mom, I have some great plans.
Don't worry Mom the neighbor will pay,
I'll make our yard a safe place to play.

I'll charge the mailman an import tax,
worked a great deal for our garbage sacks.
Our Mexican lawn man now has legal egress,
home schooling the rule with more recess.

Band aids and aspirin from now on are free,
you and sister Suzie guaranteed equality.
Allowances will raise to a living wage,
I increased our security with a pit bull named Rage.

We're going to win Mom, like never before,
we'll live with the neighbors in mutual rapport.
Your going to love it when I take reign,
I'm going to make home great again.

Robert Gene Stoner Jr
5/8/16  ©

Copyright © Robert Stoner Jr | Year Posted 2016

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

High School Sharks

I can already hear the whispers
Before I open the door
Walking down the corridor
Fluorescent lights beam down
Illuminating, my faults
                                                    “Look at her, she think she’s bad, doesn’t she?”

High heels clicking on linoleum tiles
Hips waving regardless of assaults 
Lips uncurled into a blank expression
"How the hell am i going to get through this hall
without slappingone of them?"
Head up, eyes open but unseeing the ugliness of it all
It happens everyday

“I can’t believe all those guys like her, what the hell do  they see in her?”
			“She’s just another whore”
		      “I heard she’s not as smart as they say she is”
“I knowww, she probably slept with the teacher to get into the A.P classes”
     “Yeah, that’s the only way, there’s not possibility of her having a brain,"               
                                                       "she’s too cute”
                              “She’s not that cute you know”
                                                  “she’s probably just easy, all of those pretty girls are”
                 “I wonder where she got all her clothes, probably from the 99cent store”
             “nah, too good for the 99Cent store, she probably stole it, stupid Mexican”
    “Haha, I know, she’s so poor, I bet she stole that  purse too, it’s too nice for her”
          “She’s so straight-edge, tree-hugging, boy-friend stealing, attention hog..”
                                                     “Stupid ugly slut”

Oh PLEASE, they don't even know me
Lord, spare me from these Barbie clones
That spawn over generations
Bleach blonde hair
With purses as big as their bodies
Hollow heads with a button nose

These, Sharks, beady eyed, immense jaws yawning
Try to eat victims alive
In a single gulp
Flock together like vultures mercilessly to consume
Girls worthy of attention
Blood-thirsty villains
Disgustingly morose

I laugh when I hear them whispering
Their attacks
Are bent on bending 
Twisting reflections in the mirror
When really, it’s beautiful
Inside and Out
I know what I am and could care less
About what they think
Is flattery, 
Keep talking about me, your making me                                    Famous
Movie Star Status, I have what they                                                           Want 

I let them feed on my inner glow
It’s what attracts them, you know
Until they get so full of me
That they


Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007

Details | Mexican Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Hangin' Tree

Folks avoid that spooky place 'specially on dark and stormy nights!
Heard are eerie moans and shrieks and seen are mysterious lights!
A driftin' hoss thief by the unlikely name of One-Eyed Buck LaHore,
Was strung up on the 'hangin' tree' way back in '72, accordin' to local lore!

Now, ol' Jedge Stern, renowned as the 'hangin' jedge' in them there parts,
Owned the hoss that Buck stole, showin' no respect and lack of smarts!
Buck vanished in the night a-high-tailin' it fer the Mexican border,
Trailed by a posse to bring 'im back dead er alive upon the jedge's order!

He was found carousin' in an El Paso cantina havin' a grand ol' spree!
The sheriff said, "Son, come with me! You've got a date with the 'hangin' tree'!"
There was little Buck could do with a dozen forty-fours starin' 'im in the face!
"Boys, you got me! Don't make a scene! Let's git outta this here place!"

Hauled before the jedge, Buck admitted he'd been a hell-raiser all his life.
"But, jedge" he pled, "I didn't cause no harm like molestin' a feller's wife!"
Judge Stern saw things diff'runt 'specially since 'twas his hoss he stole!
"Son, you're to be strung up on a tree and may God save yer rotten soul!"

To this very day on moonlit nights Buck can be seen swingin' in the breeze,
Clawin' at the noose about his neck yellin', "Jedge, have mercy on me please!"
That stern ol' jedge has shown no mercy as is evident from all indications.
Alas, the ghost of that wily thief will haunt local folks for many generations!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011

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' El Toro - Rojo '

Como’ Si’ Yama’, Senor’
Como’ Si Yama’, Por Favor’…
… for Below That Embroidered Sombrero’
Shone Eyes Like El Dorado

He Was A Tall and Handsome Hombre’
Like The Range of Sierra Madre’
…Now, He Sat Center The Cantina
Surrounded by Bonita – Senhoritas

He Smiled, “Buenos-Dias Senora’”
Por Favor, Por Que’ El-Hora’ ?...
If So, Have A Seat, Mi- Amiga’
And Mercedes, Bring Over More Cerveza

He Was… Rodrigo Reyes-Pacheco’
Best - of The West, of Vaqueros’
He Came to Compete in The Rodeos
And Win Fame and Fortune in Pesos’

He Came Thru El Paso De’ Tejas
Thru Dusty Rancheros and Mesas
To Ride on El Toro Rojo
Who Has Never Been Ridden Befo’…

La Viva’… Arriva’  … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’ !... Rodrigo

Now, El Toro Rojo, Was Dangerous
For Killing Men, El Rojo, Was Infamous
His Horns Had Pierced Many A Corazon
Ripped Flesh, Like It Was Piñata’ Hung

I Informed All of This To Rodrigo
The Hombre, Was Bent on Being Macho’…
… He Would Ride Toro Rojo, Manyana’
Said “Gracias”… But My Cares Were Por Nada’ !

La Viva’… Arriva’… Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’!... Rodrigo

… Now, He Wasn’t Loco in La Cabeza’
I Just Didn’t Comprehende’ … “Que’ Pasa”
But I Saw Rodrigo Atop… El Rojo 
… ! He Rode Like A Latino – Tornado ! …

He Rode El Rojo, To The End…
Then, Turned ‘Round and Rode Him Again…
Rodrigo had Won… Just Like He Planned…
Because El Toro – Rojo …   …  Was Mexican !

La’ Viva’ … Arriva’ … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero
Champion Bull Rider from Old Mexico
Vaya’ … Con Dios ! … Rodrigo….
Vaya’ … Con Dios !... Rodrigo o o o o o

for Ruben Ortellao... 
I Don't Really Know 
What Your Branch of Humanity is... 
(Spanish, French or Other)
But I thought You Might Like 
This Whimsical Poem...  
Oh... And Thank You For Your 
Most Generous Comments... 
(Cause I Know You Are A Fantastic Poet... 
I've Read Several of Yours 
and I Love Them Too...)

 (P.S.  Excuse the Spelling... 
I'm Spanish Illiterate (Smile)

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

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Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Filled With Ants

Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Full With Ants 

Trumps draws a line in the sand
He's shaken all the trees in the land
Call him whatever, okay an ass
Yet keep in mind his motto USA first
From the civil war to now
No other's brought out the plow
Like how Trump has outlined in his model
In stomping his foot down full throttle
In Trump's twelve days in office
He's raining on the bureaucratic chorus 
Telling big business to fear
Of outsourcing jobs from here
He's taken on the pharmaceutical giants
To lower their prices, and be more compliant
He set a visa moratorium on 7 Muslim countries 
Prompting protester's chastises, so bluntly
He's opened dialogue for domestic oil exploration
Setting the country's future more self reliant of oil importation
He's befriended the Brits, and hired a cabinet of friends
Some of which are the richest, so one hopes it pays dividends
To this he silences his, what, ... critics? 
By calling them, okay, ... idiots !
Trump's IQ some say it's one of the tops
One hope pressure doesn't make it pop
Trump also seen as grandstanding his wall
For the Mexican President to take the fall
Yet he may be right on all of this
For it's a lot of walkovers from the border
That's soaking up the jobs, social and welfare
Taking up space for the ones already here
Trump may be xenophobic and not a tulip or rose
But he can't be accused of tiptoeing in
He needed to stem the colony of ants
Instead of letting them bred and expanse

connie pachecho



Copyright © connie pachecho | Year Posted 2017

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My Children are Mexicans

out in the county and up the highway
anger hangs like lost voodoo over Miami
dances on bumperstickers
floats on airwaves
scars faces with perpetual glares
colors perceptions darkly
alters moods and
drives young men to football coaches
then army recruiters

anger that beats stepchildren
hunts coyotes for pleasure
and hangs corpses on barbed-wire fences
anger that asks
have you seen many Mexicans today?

just my wife and kids so far but it's still early
i hope to see more
he calls me a race traitor
he's to old to hit and i'm to old to hit him
so i suffer a fool
he tells his old wife only a homo would marry a Mexican

middle-aged men in Ford 350's
scatter brown children at bus stops and crosswalks
then pull guns to protect themselves 
from the older brothers of the children they harass
and... hey why did you do that to my little sister?
can get you shot in "self defense"

it gets to me too as anger leads to fear
fear for my Mexican son and daughter
who have records but have committed no crime
but out in the county and up the highway
the police put up roadblocks
issue tickets without cause
and brag, every Mexican in town will have a record

they told my son "what's the big deal everybody gets pulled over
everyone has to pay their share"
even if they
come to a complete stop
obey speed limits
use their blinker
don't tailgate

tell it to the judge, my son and my daughter
the judge who gives out four month sentences
for a third non-offence
or you can pay the
take it off your record fee
we lost your paperwork fee
you live in the wrong neighborhood fee
you drive an old car fee
we don't care if you did it or not fee

then after you pay and pay
re-arrests because the clerk didn't enter the payment
leads to
lost jobs
missed classes
and retracted scholarships
my children are Mexicans


Copyright © Mark McAllister | Year Posted 2012

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For my days fall away
But I remember you 
I want to touch the memories
I just don’t know what to say
As my days fall away

I vaguely remember the chicken pox
Colored popcorn 
And my first grade made
Robotic cereal box
The hen and the fox

I remember wanting a fire truck one Christmas
The marble red paint
The glass window in which it stained
I remember my foster mom saying it’s this one or nothing
I remember being too stubborn to accept the smaller version

Its these memories I daunt 
It’s these reflections that constantly haunt
These were the highlights of my life
These were the only happy moments I knew
Yet I left them, moments so few

I remember where the wild things are
I remember marshmallow peanuts
Trick or treating and roasted pumpkin seeds
I remember visitation days 
The beach-less sand the way we as children once played

I remember the door that never closed
Mexican casserole and never getting enough
Being afraid to swim 
Yet finding my way to the roof of the house 
With no way of getting down

I remember my first field trip
The dinosaurs and wanting to be an astronaut
I remember my San Francisco 49ers jersey
Number eighty, jerry rice my favorite player
Now days I tend to only clash with the mayor 

It seems that images follow a window of time
And after it’s exhausted 
We summon them our memories

Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009

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Horrendous Hobyah Hordes Hijack Hamptonshire

The Scots, by God,
They drove them out,
With a single Yorkie
At their heels a' yappin'
The Hobyahs tried to fly
Their arms they were a flappin'

Some managed to take to sea
And landed in Hamptonshire,
But the British Navy would have none of this,
Big battleships they did send
The Hobyahs saw their doom,
Their plans they did amend

They sailed on to American,
Landed at the New Jersey coast,
The hobyahs could find no better host!
They ate their way from Newark
All the way up to Camden
Avoiding kennels and dog warning signs
There was always people on their roast

Now, much of America
Might applaud this you see,
For most of Jersey's citizens
Were as useless as a rubber tree

Then the Jerseyites came up
With a plan,
They bribed the Hobyahs with
16 barges overfilled with McDonalds
Quarter-Pounders with Cheese-
With big sign saying- 
"This Way!!"
"Free PeopleBurgers"!!!!
And Infant Limb Fries!!!!"

Now this was not within
the Hobyah's realm of understanding,
But it sure sounded good....

So on the barges they climbed,
Till each and every one of these fiends
Took to sea, gorging themselves
On what they thought was fast human food

Once out in the bay, the barges were sunk
by remote control

On shore, a Mexican Beach Police Patrolman
was heard to ask Humphery Bogart,
for his beachcomber permit...

Humphrey barked back, "What?- Don't you see the history being made here?
If you're the beach police, let's see your badges!!"
The cop sneered, "Barges?....Barges?????.....We Don't Need No Sinking 

(See "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre")

With the kind permission of Marnie Memis (Oh, I Love that name!)

Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008

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A memory came knocking

A memory came knocking
On the forbidden door
I had Locked it far away
Reliving it no more

A memory came knocking 
Musing in my head 
Rambling on, it did not stop
So I wrote it down instead

A memory was angry
Living in my head
Vexed and tumultuous 
It got me out of bed

The room was filled with anger
Curse words, fists, and fear
My mother and my siblings
Abuse and full of tear

A memory came knocking 
It took me back to school 
My sadness overwhelming
I acted like a fool

A memory came knocking
It left with it some dust 
At seventeen I had given up
And started to self-destruct

A memory came knocking 
The drink, the weed, and drugs
All I was really searching for
Were love, some care, and hugs

A memory came knocking 
Surprised it was to see
How life became my vice, 
How it took care of me

A memory came knocking
My mind now strong and sound 
Remembering with gratitude 
The love which I had found

A memory came knocking
I saw your lovely face
My heart was never happier 
It has now found its place.

A memory came knocking
It found me on a beach 
Sipping a mojito with my " cockroach"
Enjoying the Mexican heat

No memory could hurt me 
I bolted back that door
A peacefulness transcended
I had gotten to the core

The angry memory
Never returned 
It met with its demise 
The damage it has left behind
My youth has paid the price

A memory came knocking 
I took it by the hand
And slowly all the memories
Started to disband

A memory came knocking
Retired it had found me
Sitting on my swing
With a brandy and a good cigar
The birds began to sing.

A memory came knocking
Willing me to write
A battle to be fought 
I took my pen to hand 
and off we went to war!

Copyright © Klio Tsitsikroni | Year Posted 2017