LatinosUSA

Read

Read,
Read a poem,
Read it out loud,
Read an alluring one
To carry you the entire day long!

Read one about the birds
And the bees,
The elegant flowers
And the trees.
Don’t waste time thinking
Of what people might say,
Just read a poem,
Allowing the magic flow to have its own way.

Write,
Type those words,
Feel the enrapturing flow,
View the brilliant colors of those fantasia mill pond birds.

Come to know guarded secrets,
Those timeless sources of great debate,
The pleasures in simple creekside dreams
As you walk through the poet’s park
By Pawley’s Island’s pearly gate.

Pause at the magnificent mansion ruins
And the marble effigies of creative talent’s eternal goddesses,
As you amble through endless majestic gardens of flowers
And the kaleidoscopic blossoming tunnel passages

Don’t waste time
Worrying about what the neighbors might think,
Just pull out an iPad and commence to type,
Read and sing,
While jettisoning any hype.
Read of all that is pleasant,
While you dream of doing your destined thing.

Take a bit of time,
Walk downtown,
Any sunny day would be fine,
Smile,
Please don’t frown.

Don’t waste precious time
Worrying about what all the people might say,
Pause by All Saints’ church graveyard
In the new rising sunshine
As the live oak leaves gently sway;
Have a folding cup full of La Belle Amie’s good red muscadine!
Just read,
Read an elegant poem.

~~

No More Mangos for Me

I wont eat no more mangos,
Though the taste is really sweet,
The sap in ‘em gave me the itchy mambo,
Ruining my luscious tropical treat.

Well,
You see,
I met this native woman.
She slathered a chunky limb right across my face.
The amount of juice I lapped up must have been a ton,
Then damned
If I didn’t break out all over the place!

Yeah,
Be most sure I danced the happy dance,
All night long, I did the jiggy-mambo-mango shake.
Maybe it was a poor timing of happenstance,
But boys
That vida loca night-ride just didn’t give me any kind of decent break.

Yeah,
She rubbed that orange-peach all over my face,
I sucked into it and licked it hard until I saw stars,
Yet I moved with such a delicate timing
And elegant grace,
I felt totally liberated from any kind of prison bars.

Man,
Did I moan,
And did I groan,
Until maybe a gallon
Of el zumo poured from my largo huesito.
I always heard the road to hell is paved with good intentions,
Cause it sure ne’er felt like I was doing any wrong,
Not to speak of that slight sandia salada taste
I almost forgot to mention.

I’m telling all of you,
Now
I’m never going to eat any more mangos.
I swear, dear readers
I’m telling you the honest truth!
Last night I near-bout died chomping that luscious la fruta
With them sweet li’l native Amazonian strange-ohs.

By the full moon at midnight there were ripe mangos
Laying up all over that unspoiled golden-sanded coconut palm beach space,
Dying for this South Carolina el vaquero to just dive in at the jolgorio
And eat ‘em good when I finish ‘em off
Until their eyes go into a haze;
But this morning
Now let me tell ya,
They all sure made me feel to understand
Where I’d most definitely seen my better days!

~~

One of My Most Amusing Experiences

Once I had an associate who was a teacher of history,
He’d only been at it for a single year.
The fact that he had never done much else was so obvious
It wasn’t any kind of mystery,
Yet for his lack of life experience, he doesn’t deserve a single tear.
He was exactly ten years older than me.

He claimed he’d drifted in from Texas,
Falling into this job as history teacher.
What he never told me was that he had family in the county where he worked,
Through their contacts
Landed him employment as a blood kin accommodating gesture,
Since an overt lacking an ability to stand upon his own two feet
Was only one of many personal quirks.

His mannerism was ridiculously feminine,
Yet in everything he was so painfully green,
Any offers for me to write otherwise
I absolutely must humbly decline,
Since this man’s weakness beat all myself
Or anybody else had ever seen.

I long knew a woman who I became friends with.
She was bulimic
And her personal problems were immense;
But one evening I motored out with this man for a casual visit,
And his passion for her in that single visit became intense.

I warned him that her jilted mother trained her to be a cruel predator,
She was searching hard for some loaded-up lamb to set up for the kill,
But somehow with him
My honest message didn’t register!
In a mere three months
This man wound up marrying her, according to the extortionist rules
Directed by her personal lawyer’s advice
And her own consequential will!

During the time
I met another man on a construction job
Who was a crane operator.
This was a man who had lived four lives crammed into one,
Who loved to live life to its fullest,
If I must make an overstatement,
And living new exotic thrills
Like myself,
Was his definition of fun.

One spring Saturday
This teacher invited myself and the crane operator over
For a grill out
And hundred poof whiskey shots.
He placed a card table ‘neath the garage at his house,
Yet his dear wife didn’t even want the crane operator or myself to enter inside
When the weather became hot.
To both of us
It was so painfully obvious
How he had a harsh shrew for a spouse!

The teacher walks out ‘neath the carport
Where the crane operator and myself
Were grilling out,
Playing cards,
And taking shots,
Then so meekly asked me to step inside his living room with him.
He timidly showed me his pay stub with the entire months’ salary he’d got,
Then requested to view mine
While attempting to play it off as being done on a sudden whim.

He’d only turned twelve hundred dollars for the entire month!
Back then
I was traveling all over the country working as a pipefitter in
The construction shutdowns.
I showed him where I cleared fifteen hundred dollars for the past week,
Knowing well in doing so, I gratified his silent hunch;
But his new wife had cracked the bedroom door,
Seeing and clearly hearing
Where he’d made himself out to be such a ridiculous clown.

He suddenly arises,
Grabbing his clair,
Harshly slinging it down on the living room floor.
He grabs a plate from his kitchen table,
I do declare,
Slinging in hard my direction
while I laughed until
It hurts
Without seeking any rectifying score.
In a rage, he suddenly points toward the door,
Screaming for me and the crane operator to exit his property
At that instant,
Forevermore.

Jim,
The crane operator,
Arises suddenly from the card table,
Cussing this teacher
For everything he was worth.
I bent over laughing until I could hardly breathe.
I am glad I rode in with Jim in his Ford pickup truck,
Since I was laughing so hard, I wouldn’t have been able to leave!