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Best Poems Written by Giana Gallardo Hesterberg

Below are the all-time best Giana Gallardo Hesterberg poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Alley

The black cat creeps through the alley in the dead of night
Careful not to wake the man slouched over, hiding under his wide-brimmed hat, 
one hand tightly wound around the bottle disguised by a paper bag
She gently licks the drops around the mouth of the glass flask and tiptoes back, 
leaving no trace of her presence
The sweet smelling incense behind the chain link fence entices her
The curandera smiles down at her while playing the tambourine and chanting at the 
full moon
The night sings its song and the cat listens, the bass coming from the small house 
with four walls, vibrating underneath her paws
She stops to lick them and scratch between her eyes
Her eyes glisten like bright green marbles and meet the eyes of the girl pressed up 
against the shed with the Virgin Mary painted on it
The boy stomps his foot, making the cat jump and scurry away
The man walking with his daughter’s porcelain doll does not see her
He has plans
The cat sees all
She pounces on the little red ball surrounded by garbage,
quickly passing it from one paw to the next
She flips it upside down and holds it steady with all fours, playfully biting the rubber
She owns the alley and the night
Few make it to see the light of day, the vagabonds and cat’s surroundings constantly 
changing
Her lithe shadow pays tribute to the same
The black cat creeps through the alley in the dead of night

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015



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Brevity-The Mexican Cock

The Mexican Cock stands tall when the hens are around, 
Glancing, strutting and pecking his corn off the hot ground.
Cock a doodle doo, says he
Do you want to marry me?
Off he goes into the chicken coup
While the chicks tiptoe around his poop
He puffs his chest out and basks in the shade
Waiting on the pick of the day to lay
Her eggs to keep the ranch worthwhile
Because there is only one gallo

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015

Details | Giana Gallardo Hesterberg Poem

Minuet Number One

Prelude
The student sits, perpendicular to the piano
Back erect, fingers curled, knees just barely under the keys
Feet not touching the floor
Eyes bright with wonder

The finger strikes a note
Fermata
The sustained vibration echoes in the small room
Magic
Senses awaken
Souls Speak
Crescendo

The mind connects to the notes, to the eyes, the hands and heart
Staccato
Lightning bolts through the veins and out the ears
Electrifying all who hear
Sforzando!

A curious glance to the left
Towards the teacher, and a smile
Fine

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015

Details | Giana Gallardo Hesterberg Poem

Blackbird

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Waiting for injustice to subside
With your broken walk and beak raised high
You won’t stop the fight ‘til truth is nigh

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Your wings shelter the fowls from the fright
Holding to your faith with your dear life
Waiting for the bright sun to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Taking down a flag won’t make it right
Pointing ever inward towards the light
Spread out your wings and take the chance flight

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Clinging to the cause with all your might
Soaring ever upwards in plain sight
Waiting for this moment to arise

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015

Details | Giana Gallardo Hesterberg Poem

The Shoreline

Take me to the place where
My toes meet the sand, 
And my hands discover castles

Where the water rushes to the surface
There you’ll find me
With my feet sinking down, down

As I walk and splash, walk and splash
I can hear my mother calling

But it’s time for me to catch my wave,
My visceral wave consumes me

The euphoric song of the sea illusions me
And takes me to that deep place
The hard rocks

My feet slip and bleed
I get caught in the under current,
Marred by seaweed

The taste of salt burns my nose
As the water threatens to choke my hope

In the distance I hear a myriad of voices
That sound like crashing waves
On the horizon as the sun sets
The Voice calls

I fight and steadily race back to the shore
Gliding in on the suddenly peaceful waves

Crawling in on all fours
With my hands sinking down, down
There you’ll find me

And in the distance I see
A sunrise
A chance to begin anew

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015



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The Pringles

The stained glass window is lovely
From the outside

As the sun shines through
It reveals beautiful shades of
Blue, red, green and white

But the glass cannot contain
What lies within
Lurking among the creaky pews
And above the wooden floors
Are the Pringles

The women sit
Backs up straight, ankles crossed
White gloves on hands to hide
Their crimson, red claws

The men pretend
They like to talk 
Of the weather, sports and news
The air is cold
The tension, fierce

And all the while
A woman stands, alone
In a corner
Glancing around timidly
Her eyes resting
On a statue
Of Jesus
Crucified

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015

Details | Giana Gallardo Hesterberg Poem

Press Play

Press play
Another day
Of dishes, dirty clothes and diapers
								Come play with me
Hold on…
The floor is sticky
Yesterday’s cheerios crusted over
Remnants of little hands on the table
What will visitors say?
								Come play with me please
Their rooms
An endless supply 
Of tiny traps,
Ninja turtles, dinosaurs and books
								Come play with me NOW!
Sigh…
How did it come to this?
Me, not keeping up
Drowning
In seemingly simple tasks
								I love you, mama!
Small arms wrapped around my legs
A tiny face, buried into my bottom

I reach out, kiss his forehead
Say I love you, too
And we play.

Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015


Book: Reflection on the Important Things