(Voice of a Broken Lineage)
Before your first cry kissed Florida’s air,
Two weary souls crossed oceans of despair—
Your parents, Cuban hearts in exile,
Arrived in 1956, not with riches,
But with hope wrapped in trembling hands.
They fled the storm, not to breed silence—
But to gift you a voice sharp as justice.
And yet, what song do you sing now,
Marco of the marbled throne?
Where is your mother’s ache?
Where is your father’s fire?
Buried beneath lobby gold and foreign war drums?
You wear America like armor,
But it shields you from your roots.
You sip from cups filled with blood and denial,
While Gaza cries and Cuba weeps.
Did you forget the sweat of your lineage,
Chasing shadows of power with blind eyes?
You are not a prince—you are a pawn,
Dancing for the architects of ruin.
You hated your own kin for survival.
But survival at the price of memory
Is not wisdom—it is moral slavery.
Money speaks louder than heritage now.
But what will you say to your soul
When it demands an answer?
Power deceives.
But time uncovers.
And one day,
You will be judged by the child you once were—
And the ancestors who never left your blood.
Marco
Todos os messes,
todos os dias
a meta é um marco,
uma linha
no horizonte
e com menos,
eu construo
a minha ponte
faço muito,
nesse ritmo
constante.
Vou além
rompo as barreiras
nos altos e baixos,
viajo
nas asas
das canseiras
com pouco,
muito faço,
mais e mais.
Uncle Marco of Milan lived far off
He always sneezed and had a bad cough
Everyone feared he had caught the virus
They evaded him like poor Lazarus
Though grown up, he was more like a child
If anyone teased, he would instantly turn wild
And for the very reason, he would go mad
Once from the market, he bought a gilded hat
Wearing the hat, he ran after an impish brat
On his way he had to cross a mountainous track
Midway he slipped and fell off a steep rock
Diving down, the poor man broke his neck
From the heights as he landed down flat
He sobbed- “Now what use is for my hat”!
April.17.2022
To Lighten the Load Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Angela Tune
Marco's Web
everyday no matter what it get's sown
or not like it
everlasting goon's and goblin's
never ending
8 0 ate
the dull emerald egg.
Março é um marco
Março chega,
Março representa
o início de novos começos
março nos lembra
de agir de acordo
com nossos pensamentos
e inspirações.
Março do dia da mulher
Março de avanços
sempre para frente
impulsiona para o futuro.
Em março,
as decisões
são para o bem maior
de todos ao seu redor
desde o primeiro
são para fazer
mais e mais.
Marco Zero
Hoje em todos os tempos;
todos os dias,
na vida ou nos negócios
o maior marco de uma vida;
o marco "zero" de uma vida
é deixar de pensar
naquilo que deixou de fazer
e se concentrar
naquilo que pode fazer.
O maior marco de uma vida
é passar a vida
concentrada
naquilo que pode fazer
mais e mais.
Março
É hoje, É hoje...
OH o Carnaval começa
junto com março
O Carnaval chegou!
Se prepare para março,
Para descontos e cores,
Se prepare
para fazer um pouco a mais!
Vamos lá
viver em março
o carnaval de descontos
para desfilar
Na explosão do ritmo
Do batuque e da serpentina!,
Março chegou
desfile você agora,
cuida da beleza,
que tem data
e força teimosa
de manter-se nova a cada dia!
your smart hat
your coifed
charcoal brows
your blue questions
about how I’m moving
through the day
have me in hand
reminiscing
making me want you
and reminiscing
more and more
Marco! Marco! He said
No polo, just the voices inside his head
Marco! Marco! That one person said
And asked, “why aren’t you dead?”
Marco Rubio
would show best perhaps in a Tussaud's studio
stiff waxen smile
the Cuban marionette attempting to beguile.
Marco Rubio
not many know he's the son of Jack Rubio
and who was he?
the guy who offed Oswald between luncheon and tea.