Saturday, October 13, 2012

September Senryū ~ 2012

O orange harvest moon | why do you bring such longing | for him or winter

our rights slip through hands | people shake their heads resigned | we lift our voices 
shouting you can't take our rights | they are not yours to swindle

people don't want to suffer | though wanting is fear | of not having

but they don't get it | less is more doesn't compute | in our "buy" culture

no more star gazing | purple skies too full of moon| on yesterdays gone

nothing can stop her | only she can brake herself | re-imagine life

first day of falling | into another season | reasons to stand sure

the two who are | one lives in Aiye | other in Orun |
both sacred twins journeyed | to market no'ne stayed home

her face always in books | or screen blue back lit | you'll find her there lost |
in a world of words seeking | illusive as butterflies

she was born spirit line | a "mistake" that got left in | strong

our words not a ruse | poetry as lies to be used | to get ahead

a tsunami cloud | resembled a mountain range | covered in new snow |
hovered on the edge | of my childhood lake

if a writer falls | in love with you | you'll never be forgotten

a pastel party | going down up in heaven | as Spirits rejoice

resist urges | to vote for the lesser of | evils who are twins

fear is a liar | bullies win through our silence | the truth shall prevail

I can not pretend | that monsters do not exist | they live among us

leaves unravel spring | summer's a lush coat of green | fall life's teeth chew through | 
masticating to the bone | winter the long sleep waiting

there are many Septembers | on the eleventh | we remember those |
who died for the empire | who died for the lies

she wants it to rain | in ropes falling from blank skies | to cool the harsh day

ancestor maíz | corn in every color | grows seven feet tall

we break easily | sometimes there's no other way | to end the madness |
we leave reality | head towards a way to be healed

she could have been his | in an eye-blink eternity | star-crossed lovers |
oceans that could never merge | what beauty trying

she tells her mother | I hope you won't forget me | she forgets what's said |
daughter cries for all the loss | then in her childhood and now

workers the backbone | bring food from fields to tables | build envisioned worlds |
mothers raise nations of us | fathers the finishing touch

medicine stories | passed on in blood memory | in ancestors' voices

what is unseen | is later unearthed by light | shed on the darkness

Copyright © 2012 Odilia Galván Rodríguez. All Rights Reserved.