Honduras is Green
Honduras is green
In the same way that
Blood is red,
Snow is white,
The night is dark.
Essentially green.
Without the green
It wouldn’t be Honduras.
Honduras is poor
In the same way that
Babies cry,
Drunks stagger,
Dogs gnaw bones.
Essentially poor.
Without the poverty
It wouldn’t be Honduras.
Honduras is joyful
En lo mismo manera que
Kids kick futbols above the tree tops,
Lovers dance close,
A gray haired woman swims in the sea.
Essentially joyful.
Without the joy it wouldn’t be Honduras.
I visit Honduras
In the same way that
Los sacerdotes oran el rosario,
Los gallos gritar a la madrugada
Palabras cruzar los labios y forman frases.
My visits are essential.
I make these trips to know who I am.
Waiting and Hoping
In Spanish, esperar
Means to wait.
Espereme, mi amor.
Wait for me, my love.
In Spanish, esperar
Means to hope.
Espero que regreses
A mi, mi amor.
I hope you will come back
To me, my love.
Si estas esperando,
Hay esperanza.
If you are waiting,
There is hope.
Si su esperanza
Esta terminado,
If your wait is over,
You know,
Sabe.
There is nothing more
To wait for.
Nothing more
To hope for.
Por eso espanol es
Una lingua mejor
Por amores
Que ingles.
Spanish can break your heart
El espanol puede romper su corazon.
Gringo Time, Honduran Time
El tiempo del gringo
Es bien organizado.
It has a beginning, a middle and an end.
Honduran time flows and loops.
Si Dios quiere.
Gringo time falls on the beat.
At best it waltzes.
1-2-3, 1-2-3.
El tiempo Hondureño baile la bachata.
The feet execute a sexy little two-step
While the hips elaborate.
But Honduran time is a
Bromista cruel.
Its jokes are merciless.
The hours glow.
The days rhyme.
The weeks nap in their hammocks.
The months pass in ciclos de sol y lluvia.
But the years kill you.
You are old at forty.
At fifty you look seventy.
Before long,
There is a tent in the street
In front of your house.
Your family weeps in rented folding chairs.
A black bow droops on your door.
Gingo time is a negotiator.
(Even time knows that gringos are powerful.)
In the end it is all the same.
Time has nothing to loose
By relenting a little
Here and there.
Five years if you go to the gym
Three times a week.
Ten years if you take your
Lisinopril daily.
Gringo time is patient.
It’s all the same in the end.
Cielo
In Spanish cielo means
Both heaven and sky.
It’s a smoke ring word.
Say it with a Cubano
Between your teeth.
A ring of cloud
Floats toward the sky,
Toward the heavens above.
Guillermo died in Honduras.
I helped carry his coffin.
His brother unscrewed the face plate.
We said good bye through
A plastic window.
Reflections of clouds and sky
Floated over his face.
Cielo y cielo. Cielo y cielo.
In the dirt school yard,
Boys climb the flagpole.
Thirty feet up,
They become
Skinny silhouettes
Against el cielo.
As close to el cielo
As a hungry ten year old
Can get.
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