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Post by LeoVictorBriones (poetremains) on Mar 18, 2008 1:51:34 GMT -5
Thirty years we killed and for thirty years
we kill for justice, sometimes joy.
On Chihuahua’s desert plains,
we ride like Villa’s Dorados—
golden ones split the flats of dry mesas,
golden ones pour marrow elixir
into the sinuous corridors of Cooper canyon.
While all along the proud Tarahumara
huddled in caves and casas de madera,
drink the híkuli brewed of peyote cactus,
and dream the dream within a dream,
before dust storms came,
before we killed to kill for the thrill
of justice, sometimes joy.
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Post by LynnDoiron on Mar 18, 2008 10:41:34 GMT -5
I thought this stunning; repeat of justice and joy at the end --- wonderful. Some punctuation I'd tweak, but all in all, Great Write.
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Post by MichaelFirewalker on Mar 18, 2008 15:27:49 GMT -5
a strong red prayer well-spoken, my brother----had childhood friends whose families died in it, but they never spoke of it----so much fear, and shame...and killing----they ran for their lives, came here to hide----and I don't think they ever thought about joy...
I join my prayer with yours,
michael
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Post by Ron Wallace (Scotshawk) on Mar 19, 2008 18:29:10 GMT -5
Solid Howling Wolf tones and voice. It has a bite and Lynn's right that repetition at the end works so well. Ron
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Post by LeoVictorBriones (poetremains) on Mar 21, 2008 13:58:12 GMT -5
Final draft, I think.
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Post by LynnDoiron on Mar 21, 2008 14:55:38 GMT -5
Not sure what you modified in the interim [since my earlier comment on the 18th], but "we kill" in L2 should be "we killed" in keeping with tense. And whatever you have changed has made this less stunning for this reader. It seems as if there were more names before, more naming of tribes or areas or people; there was a sense of cultures, of time, that seems gone now. Sorry. Gotta say what I see. lynn
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