With Certainty

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short poem.

Submitted: March 24, 2008

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Submitted: March 24, 2008

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With Certainty
 
I have never sucked a mango on its branch,
Have never danced the salsa or shaken
The scent of country from a Senorita’s hair.
I am not Lorca or Neruda, have never seen
The migrants feed themselves with dust
And their stomachs revolt at the delicacy.
 
Somewhere,
 
Someone has known the depths of rivers,
Has dipped his tongue into the Congo
And breathed his lungs full of its life.
I have never known of prisons that navigate
The sea, of shackles or of gold that turns
To meat when it hits the ocean’s water.
 
But I have seen my grandfather cry at the sight
Of his youngest daughter, knowing
that because of her lungs, older even than his, 
He would outlive her by many years.
 
And,
 
I have known my cousin to grow up motherless,
My mother to live without a sister;
To some, life is only about what they can take away,
What they can unmake with their hands.
 
Yes, I have tasted tears filled with more life than
Any river and more sadness than any ocean,
Have felt my heart beat against hearts whose ripeness
Was deeper than any mango, have leaned on shoulders
Stronger than any branch that holds fruit and heard
The sound of shackles beat the ground in a dance of joy.
 
No, I have never lead a revolution
Have never toppled something so mighty
As poverty or set free something so elusive
As an ideal. But I feel it at our fingertips my brothers,
My sisters. I feel it in words leaking ancestry,

Wiser even than trees and other lovers of history.


© Copyright 2017 JohnJArno. All rights reserved.

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