Oaxaca Haiku

In these dark days of winter, I thought some Haiku I wrote in the bleached dust and dry heat of Oaxaca, Mexico might serve to warm some of you up.

Peace and Hope

FatherCrow



Cops heavy with Guns
Dirty jokes, Spanish sweat
My eyes are fearless


Tangled tarpaulin
Smell of death and dust
No sale today


The chiseled woman
Gives a warm smile
Slavery still


Sun beats down
Paint gives way
The placards wave


Child cradled
In arms that tire
The doorway is cool


Calm consumes
Jungle, deserts widen
Return to choice


The pigeons talk
Of their flight home
To stations in Eire


Fat Americans
Sweating under hats ask
For fat free dressing


William Burroughs
Left on bus, abandoned
"Wises up a Mark"


Lawrence wrote here
In some shady cafe
Ernie broke his legs


The shanty town
Spreads like a virus
Consumes the hills


Blood of Christ
The blood of torn hearts
Mix in the dust


Mexican beat
Opressed by the heat
Dancers begin slow


Cigarette smoke
Moves at the same pace
as this place


Stone buildings decay
Spanish are long gone
Now we build with tin


Journey to Ixtlan
Replaced by poverty
Journey to nowhere


The beggars request
Silenced by motorcycle
and she moves on


The people here
Survival is in their skin
Sense of humour


Tonight I move
Mountain below, stars above
Bus to sunrise


Swallowed by night
Indian whispers behind
I see my death


The ancient Temple
It is more ordered
Than my life


The Skyscraper towers
Somewhere in its shadow, an
old Brujo hides


He promises drugs,
and friendship, Juan my man in
Mexico, stands


Petals in the desert,
Lift gently, and again
buried in dust


I sit and write
The sun fades, the shadows
twist and lengthen


No Spanish...English
In the Jungle, they hide
not yet touched


A new language
Faltering steps, breathes
Confidence anew

© Fathercrow 2004