impish urchins doze
dragon-slayers bold and brave
~ dawn’s gray as they beg
Giant red sea urchins piled high on a dock.
Still live, their spines wave, beckoning me.
Soon to be processed as haute cuisine stock,
Then sent to Japan to make roe puree.
It is sad to see these poor little guys.
They move with intention to find the Sea.
Too bad that their taste tends to tantalize
The overall fondness for good sushi.
Gone are their days of clearing the algae,
Which urchins eat, and coral reefs protect.
Next time you take a bite of that sushi,
Consider how food and Nature connect.
We urchins did survive
The cesspool of our streets.
Our joy at being alive
Depended on such treats
As husbandry can do.
In sounds of songs unsung
We learned this as we grew--
Flowers grow from dung
And ancient songs renew.
Us Little Urchins A square of hair trussed neatly back
Tightly as uniformed Venetian Ponies
We girls trotted home in a gorgeous bright Orange sky
We laughed and leap frogged
Over the line of three bent
Over
Bodies
Being fourth and leaping to the fore
Giggling and wobbling all over the shop (floor)
Barefoot in the park
Out prior to the lark
Ill-fitting hand me downs
We were each others painted clown
We seeped within the curled clipped wire fence
Took no care, twas no offence to tear our aged cloth
Nor scratch our olive knees past the stinging nettles which forever had us tip toeing carefully
But still clung to us
As we clung on to each other
Our washed brown hair forever shiny from
The sweat which dripped as we took a sip
From the rusty water fountain
We had mountains and trees to climb
Barefoot but all was fine
As one always cupped her hands upon her knees
As. One giggled climbing trees
Laughing and sweating for the forbidden fruit
Scrumping fruit from posh peoples gardens
Leaping the wall
As burnt Orange urchins headed home with their fruit
greengages and apples
stored in a tied up shirt
laughing at a world full of us four urchin fools
When parents don’t have a choice and vanish
We, the hunted children of the urban jungle,
Inhale distorted dreams on an empty stomach
Falling asleep with stars and nightmarish rats
There is oxygen enough for the entire planet
Surprise us, please, with lullabies not bullets
We are afraid to grow up - as Fairies do not touch -
Only men with cold fingers in their perverted lust
“Let the children come to me...” - Hope Mountain echoes-
Above the World’s Stadium let kids’ pinata splatter
With candy for the rich and candy for the poor
We all belong together residing in our Hope…
Copyright 2011
Iolanda Scripca
Written for an International Documentary film...Check it out at: www.caprioleproductions.org
The little filthy secret of the economically rich Brazil is the assasination of the
poor "children of the streets" in its capital. They are considered a nuissance to the
rich and their lives...these poor kids are called "Street Urchins" and are victims of
drugs, prostitution and violence.
coins drop palm to palm
a lively tune she dances~
we applaud loudly
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