Poema… ¿Dónde estás Ciudadano, Ciudadana?

¿Dónde estás Ciudadano, Ciudadana?

por Luis S. González-Acevedo

¡Triste es el destino
de un pueblo despreciado;
que su alma han arrancado
y violado sus caminos!

Sin derechos y sin voz,
sirviendo como esclavo;
sin valiente que ande en pos,
ni hombre, ni mujer que en su obrar
manifieste la intención
y destino a contestar…

Siendo la contestación
a la gran incógnita:
A mi Puerto Rico,
¿Quién lo ha de liberar?

La libertad es un derecho,
un elemento universal;
de Puerto Rico es el gran lecho
que no ha podido disfrutar.

Esclavitud causante de penas,
ente flagelante y brutal;
a Puerto Rico ata en cadenas:
¡Injusticia nacional!

Albizu Campos y Blanca Canales –patriotas de renombre
que en su búsqueda delirante
gritando nos llaman por nombre,
diciéndonos: ¡Venimos a liberarlos!


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



 

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Poem… Colonial Century

Colonial Century

(translation|modification of Centenario Colonial)

by Luis S. González-Acevedo

We “celebrate” the colonial century
under American rule.
“They bring peace,” Don Mario says ironically.
If they bring peace, why are they armed?

Colonizers proclaimed “liberty”
and “offered” the most precious gifts.
Today, we suffer violence and vanity.
If they bring peace, why are they armed?

What happened to the jíbaros of yesteryear?
They were battered by the northwest’s colonizing winter.
The question all jíbaros & jíbaras should consider:
If they bring peace, why are they armed?


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


Poema… Centenario Colonial

Centenario Colonial

por Luis S. González-Acevedo

Cumplimos el centenario
colonial bajo los americanos.
–Traen paz– con ironía dice Don Mario.
Si nos traen paz, ¿por qué vienen armados?

Vino el anglo proclamando libertad,
ofreciendo los goces más preciados.
Hoy, sufrimos violencia y vanidad.
Si nos traen paz, ¿por qué vienen armados?

¿Qué pasó con el jíbaro de ayer?
Lo impersonal del anglo imitamos.
Si preguntan, los jíbaros han de entender:
Si nos traen paz, ¿por qué vienen armados?


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


Poem… i saw the “face” of god

I stand with immigrant, migrant, and mobile mothers & 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

–june 17, 2018–

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


i saw the “face” of god will appear in a future book of poems (release date | July 2020)–



 

Poem… Skin of Blood

Skin of Blood

(translation|modification of Piel de Sangre)

by Luis S. González-Acevedo

Owner of the Caribbean, where are your dreams?
Little Caribbean native, what do you inherit from your parents?
The skin color stained across your chest
that an eternal Golden Century turns to blood.

Taíno boy, where is your mother?
I seek in vain the man you call father.
The boy answers: “Both will arrive very late,
when the native red of their hands turns to blood.”

You were a boy; you’re now a man –you confuse me.
Tears and sweat fall from your cheeks.
Do you sweat as you cry like the strong? Or…
Do you cry as you sweat, empowering the villainous traitors?

Caribbean native, break your chains and be free!
I invite you to the land that’s always yours;
its clouds lick blood from your body:
Paradise of Cacique Hayuya.

A paradise that wipes away all tears
and channels them into a crystal brook.
The celestial king kisses them with his rays and transports them
to a place that’s not a place –deadly for tears.


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