Best San Antonio Poems
adios gringo
buenos dias muchacho
hastsa la vista
si signorita
gracia para sombrero
signore lo perdí
a rio grandé
cruzar sierra madré
voy a san miguel
san hosé, san juan
pedir san antonio
decir por favor
Enjoy the music here.
http://mike-martin.net/Intervention
“... The closeness of the place and the heat of the climate,
added to the number in the ship which was so crowded
that each had scarcely room to turn himself, almost
suffocated us."
Olaudah Equiano, freed slave, abolitionist, merchant (1745-1797)
We were taken in by roundup-
legends of freedom, sold
heirlooms to pay for the privilege of being
crammed into a tractor-trailer like green-
ware into a kiln. The youngest
faithfully lifted her chin, Quinceañera
memories still fresh enough to almost keep
her balanced within that shifty,
blistering dark until she felt
another sharp shaft of air, a searing blast
of a bone-dry wheeze from the next pilgrim to hit
hot metal like he’d been shot in the head.
The chant began again, Santa María,
Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros
pecadores. Sweat stung our opened eyes,
clarified visions of diaspora, of coldblooded
coyotes packing cargo holds with cornered chattel.
We, the many, shackled by migrant irons. We,
a crop of people, survive only to swelter later
in tobacco rows, on countless estates, behind thick shop doors,
but each Day of the Dead, we will recount:
Mexicans lost to a hardened
geography where even breath is branded,
an absence of just one half-mast flag, anywhere, their star-
crossed national anthem, our costly escape
into undocumented slavery, how long-
suffering dreams either suffocate or hide
scars, why wheeled sloops blaze down border
highways with short-lived payloads, scammed commodities
as expendable as a shipment of spring lambs ...
evening moon rise
I watch with the fountain,
a youth
searching for answers
who am I
what am I
where am I really?
most importantly
why am I here?
the rainbow colors of the water
make me lonelier
a lost soul
they call me
suddenly a vision
of the fountain
and the water
flowing into
the other.
oh, I am both
the water
and the fountain
flowing endlessly
Still lonely
and alone
beating heart
now
Hidden mission in seclution,
close to owners private mansion,
military reservation.
Grapes are grown here.
Soil's good given cultivation.
Seed crops show wealth.
https://www.seattletimes.com/nation-world/local-media-say-multiple-victims-in-texas-church-shooting/?utm_source=The+Seattle+Times&utm_campaign=b87f82619d-Alert_Gunman_opens_fire_inside_of_Texas_church%2C_re&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_5beb38b61e-b87f82619d-123052429
What we wonder is where will it all end,
This poem to you thought I would send;
Limit there must be;
God set souls free
And about it what do we want to intend?
You can forward this to whoever you want to.
When I would arrive at an abyss,
Would it really sound ludicrous;
When I thought,
Had got caught,
Poem you wrote point did miss.
Initiative is involved in the impact
Of how so sever we all will react
Weapons flow free;
Can kill you and me;
No longer able to remain intact.
Still am over 10.
Out on others people take their vengeance,
That created much mystery and suspense;
People distraught;
Temptation fought;
Times have been both troubling and tense.
Home has been hunter from the hill,,
Then went to church and kill, kill, kill;
With many shots.
Killing adults and tots;
Suffering exists which will, will, will.
What we did was receive a new directive;
His memory has been known to selective;
No thanks,
To Trump pranks,
And we do need to hire a new detective.
When Flynn Did Again
Shady character found out about Flynn;
We always knew how, where and when,
Temptation did fight;
Such a shady sight;
Bad behavior happened again and again.
Jim Horn
Feral pigs
animal that ate
San Antonio