Recently the Italian poet and publisher Mendes Biondo has joined my poetry group for its events on Zoom. Not only did he read at the open mic but he also participated in the workshop. I am thrilled to be publishing his poems from our May 30 workshop tonight. The first poem memorializes Leilani "Butterfly" Jordan, a 27 year old grocery clerk from Maryland. Her picture is above.
Twenty-eight year old Navajo activist and mother Valentina Blackhorse was the subject of Mendes' second poem from the workshop.
Base Calling Moon
we
people of a rock solid planet
are still wearing fear masks
to protect us from pain
to save us from every day life
we
people of a planet made of plastic
faces are fighting for a smile
hidden behind the blue
or other colors
politics is killing the colors
we
people of shattered mirrors
we forgot about Alice and the White rabbit
there's a hole for every one of us
where to hide
we
people of I-still-have-not-understood-what
are lost and alone
do you have found your inner india?
do you still run behind kites in that black sky?
do you feel like us
moon?
Flourishing
how many days have passed
since the last time
we made love?
spring has blossomed all around
now we see it behind a glass
with the breath that fogs the window
is it all a bad dream?
the army takes the coffins away
the weeping of the living suffocated by masks
do you remember our kisses
our warm caresses?
now there is the cold wind to rock nightmares
eyes are kneaded with fear
the soul hid in quarantine
inside a palace of flesh and blood
where are
you going? don't you know it is forbidden?
and the balconies become watchtowers
and we become prisoners
do you remember sweat after sex?
now I can't even tighten
the hands of those I don't know
the wind blows hard – they say it's the devil
but it smells like flowers and laundry
and the animals call their land back home
our lovely gazes – do you remember them?
the time of the landing will come and everywhere
we will call it home sweet home again
don't fear the roll of the earth
we are sailing in a storm
now rest and dream about that night
the night when we will all return naked
to make love and to tell us stories
of the new sun that rises and warms our heart
Big Mama Is Dancing On The Purple Tide
eyes of stone
people dying without the caress of a gaze
hearts of plastic
beating a music no one wants to play
hands closed
seeds won’t come from those fingers of cement
birds know we are alone
so they try to keep our moral up
fishes are waiting for our holy bath
meanwhile they laugh silently
peace seems a lost island
the one cartographers put on maps
just to make their work look different
just to drive sailors crazy
a black woman
wide breasts full of ivory milk
is smiling to her holy baby
a lullaby in the air
is the half-moon chilling the wind
I know you
you’re the one who cried yesterday
when a little boat was shipping from the harbor
on a purple calm ocean
you said
how beautiful
and tears fell down
because all was so calm and chill
your heart found the path to peace island
no one was there to say
ha ha you dumb boy
you’re crying like a sissy girl
the ocean tide grew
your flood brought a vein of gold into it
sun setting on the horizon
I heard the wind blowing your voice
I found the stairway to the great vibration
you said
and everything was in peace
for a moment
forever
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