Thursday, January 05, 2006

Aguardiente Atlantic

Molded thoughts,
sculpted words ,
goddesses slain and
lectors lined up from Cartagena
to the vast lands in Patagonia;
some were tense
from the suspense:
what would be next?,
they exclaimed.

Along the Pacific coast
some lit up cigarettes,
others made idle chatter.
Along the Atlantic coast
some had aguardiente shots,
other spoke on their cells.

"Bullets live for one shot,
words ring for ages,
thirst for sex rages,
peaces stalls war hogs.
In bellicose times
breath not to live,
but to love more",

spoke the poet
known as prophet,
and at times an idiot.

Remain mute,
speak not a word,
stall the bard,
agree to refute.
Speak one language,
praise one God,
bury past baggage,
p(oe)ut away the mirror.