Whitewashed Vida MAG

May 30, 2010
By RoseInDecember BRONZE, Medford, New Jersey
RoseInDecember BRONZE, Medford, New Jersey
4 articles 7 photos 0 comments

En Ingles por favor.
Alto. Peligro. Agua. Hola.
Speak in our gray language, they say.

Música. Vida. Comida. Familia.
Language the color of jalapeños; shining brilliant, soulful, musical, familiar.
Speak in our whitewashed language, they say.
But don't we speak the same language, just doing different dances?

You do the foxtrot, I do the tango,
But the same words come from our heart-shaped lips?
Maybe it's my ears, perhaps my
Tongue. But we're the same in my eyes.
My colorblind eyes, both our songs hold the same beat.

Colores diferentes, mismos corazones.
Different colors, hearts the same.
Shining, shimmering, splendid colors shivering together:
Spicy, picante. Caliente, hot.
They're all yellow-bellied proxies for a country scared
Of the words of change.

Open your mouth.
Let the words the color of chili peppers with the sounds of
Samba fall from your lips like little diamonds.
Speak up with the strength of 330 million people on your side.



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on Jan. 18 2011 at 5:52 pm
squalur996 GOLD, Henderson, Nevada
10 articles 3 photos 43 comments

Favorite Quote:
"If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character....would you slow down? Or speed up?
-- Chuck Palanick

I just have to say I read this in the magazine and I thought it was amazing.  It is beautiful poetry and feels absolutely true and colorful and wonderfully written. Continue writing!!!  I quite liked when you were using peppers and jalapenos as a comparison, it made it flavorful and more vivid and bright.


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