Tijuana beach sunrise
night's darkness passing
its colors to the stars...
orbing westward
to tomorrow
over the Tijuanas of Tokyo
Shanghai and Perth
It is today right now
as the sun shoulders up
over painted boards
bright and various
battered into houses
on sand-scrub dry hills
Beautiful poverty beach
tar film and bits of trash
scent-marked
where the breasts of the sea
and sand-bell
are displayed like a galaxy
Morning dogs
are by instinct roused
to vagrant curiosity
Returning like soldiers
of the lost revolution
to the women war heroes
Everything held in balance
by the very salt flakes of air
the city street on the cliff
is an obituary
for the history of a country alive
in spite of wounds
to the heart
wounds to the family...
the tribe of fusion greets the day
on the bone-sand
of ancient murders
Dude (she said like a true Californian) - this is a rockin' piece of poetry. I am enjoying reading you this morning, over coffee, while nagchampa spirals in the air.
The last four lines of the fifth stanza draw my sympathy. I wish they are read by the party concerned.
whoa deep its like i want to go but then i think about history, i love it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice one jim keep writing