Poema… Abuelo


(traducción|modificación de Grandfather)

por Luis S. González-Acevedo

El viejo negro tomó un trago –tres dedos– de Don Q.
El viejo vio a su nieto de piel clara acercarse.
«Él es mi Dios. ¡Él es Dios!» exclamó el abuelo.
El negro tomó un trago –tres dedos– de Bacardí.
«¡Santa María, madre de Dios, llena de gracia!» adoró.
«¡Aquí está tu Dios!» gritaron los fieles de la cantina.

El aliento del buen viejo olía a cerveza y ron.
El viejo negro besó al niño de piel clara en la mejilla,
dulcemente raspándolo con su barba de edad y lija.
¡Dios bendiga a Don Q y Bacardí!

–Puede encontrarlo en el poemario Poemas Caribeños, por Luis. S. González-Acevedo o el original en inglés en Caribbean Poet, by Luis S. González-Acevedo–



Poem… Grandfather


by Luis S. González-Acevedo

The old black man downed a shot of Don Q.
The light-skinned grandson entered the bar.
“He’s my God. He is God!”
–proclaimed the grandfather.

The old black man downed a shot of Bacardí.
“Hail Mary, mother of God, full of grace!”
–he worshipped.
“Praise your God!” –shouted the bar’s faithful.

The boy was Jesus’ brother.
The old man’s breath smelled of Caribbean rum.

The grandfather kissed his grandson’s cheek
and grazed him with a beard of age and sandpaper.
God bless Don Q and Bacardí rums.

–You can find the poem in Caribbean Poet, by Luis S. González-Acevedo or the translation/modification in Spanish in Poemas Caribeños, por Luis. S. González-Acevedo–


Poem… May we have a home?

I dedicate this poem to those who have been denied a home because of race or ethnicity.

May we have a home?

by Luis S. González-Acevedo

The immigrants stood at their prospective landlord’s door in latent panic,
knowing it was the only way to beg for that apartment
and secure their children’s well-adjustment;
but they weren’t Anglo nor Germanic.
The couple was persistent. Caribbean Hispanics
battered by their circumstances and haggard
–yet intent on flying skyward.
But in the end, their mobile souls bled
when the soulless landlord said:
“I’m sorry, but you’re not the right Hispanic.  –You know… European… Spaniards.”

–You can find the poem in Caribbean Poet, by Luis S. González-Acevedo–


Poem: the little puerto rican girl

man holding girl while walking on street
Photo by Paweł L. on Pexels.com

the little puerto rican girl

by luis s. gonzález-acevedo

–december 4, 2018–
springfield, ohio, usa

the little puerto rican girl
who made my heart whirl
is now a woman.

the squint of her d.w. eyes
like the memory of her hand in mine
these spin my corazón into a loving twirl.

where others merely walked, she strolls triumphant
she inhales the eastern sea
with wit and drive in her accomplishment.

and yes, I proudly know…
my little girl, this woman is better than I’ll ever be.


A Lord & Father’s Day Poem: i saw the “face” of god

On Father’s Day, I stand with immigrant, migrant, and mobile fathers –especially those who have been separated from their children by Satan’s agents: president #45 and his demons.

i saw the “face” of god

for president #45
by Luis S. González-Acevedo

in america 2016, i saw the “face” of god
and the outpouring of “his spirit” in 2017

ever since, this unrecognizable god seems to linger
like a repeating nightmare
that gets worse and doesn’t go away

he sees “the other” with hatred and intolerance
as if his children were better –superior
fallacy of fallacies, vanity of vanities

this distorted god inspires quotes from the holy bible
to justify separating children from parents
and criminalizing the search for dreams

the fake elijahs of today stand before their own god…
a great and powerful fear shatters lives
can the true lord be in such fear?
with fear comes hatred
can the real lord be in such hatred?
with hatred comes intolerance
can a merciful and loving lord be in their intolerance?

the true elijahs await the gentle whisper
of love, courage and acceptance

because in these, the true god abides