Self-Discovery

by Marie Delgado Travis

Today, October 12, like

Columbus, I finally see land.

It lies there, straight ahead,

Peering softly through the haze.

I was almost afraid

to trust my eyes...

But the vision is real.

The world is shaped

As I have long

Suspected,

Round.

I have reached the

Long-dreamt,

Long desired

Indies.

Perhaps like Columbus,

This monumental journey

Will end in failure and

Disillusionment.

And I will be vilified,

Misinterpreted by those

Preferring to believe that a

Dismally flat, colorless

Universe conspires constantly

To keep its inhabitants

Suppressed in shadows,

Sackcloth, shackles.

That would. perhaps, be true,

In many parts of the world

I left behind.

But in this chaste

New World, which

I now reclaim in the

Name of the Lord,

There exists no promise,

Save endless possibility.

 MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS is an award-winning author.  She writes poetry and prose in English and Spanish.  Visit her web site at www.mariedelgadotravis.com

Myth of Love

by Marie Delgado Travis

Your love, gift of the gods,

unchains my Prometheus.

Like Sisyphus, it carries my burden.

It catapults Icarus beyond my stars.

I am forged Phoenix in

your burning coals.

You guide my lost Ulysses.

And even Narcissus,

contemplating your reflection

in the water,

weeps when he sees

how much you love me.

MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS is an award-winning author.  She writes poetry and prose in English and Spanish.  Visit her website at www.mariedelgadotravis.com for more information about her work.

Abolengo

by Marie Delgado Travis

Recuerda, hijo mío,

cuando presientas

el desdén de los demás…

que eres descendiente

del Conquistador valiente

quien cargó sobre los mares

la Santa Cruz del Redentor.

Quien con fe en el Señor,

y a nombre del monarca,

mandó a quemar su barca,

para no mirar atrás,

y forjar tu destino

en un Mundo Nuevo mítico.

Más ten, hijo, presente,

que llevas la sangre regente

del Cacique y su mujer isleña,

dóciles ánimos, pero gigantes.

Seres pacientes, generosos,

quienes sufrieron desengaños,

enfermedades y trabajos

—sin fin y sin piedad—

para legarte tierra riqueña.

No olvides, mi bien,

que corre, también,

por tus venas el sudor

del fuerte esclavo,

de cuerpo escultural negro,

en sol y resplandor forjado…

Hombre quien, con orgullo,

aún encadenado,

callosas manos empuñó,

en grito existencial

y retó a su cruel destino…

elemento final y esencial

de tu rico abolengo.

No te quejes de tu sino, hijo

—¡no lo tires al vacío!—

cuando tus abuelos

—¿cuántas generaciones?—

sufrieron tanto en tu sitio

para dejarte herencia sin par,

lograda siglo a siglo

con pena, sacrificio

y noble hazaña sin cesar.

Es, por ello, tu deber sagrado

levantar la cabeza

y con cuerpo erguido,

ser—por fin—

en su honra y lugar,

feliz.

—  LINEAGE  —

Remember, my son,

when you perceive

the disdain of others…

that you are a descendant

of the valiant Conquistador

who carried the Holy Cross

of our Redeemer

across the oceans.

Who with faith in the Lord

and in the name of his Monarch,

ordered his ship burned,

so as not to look back,

and shape your destiny

in a mythical New World

Son, keep well in mind,

that you bear the regent blood

of the Chieftain and his island bride,

gentle, yet gigantic spirits,

patient, generous beings,

who suffered disillusionment,

disease and hard work

—endless and without pity—

to bequeath to you an opulent land.

Don't forget, my treasure,

that through your veins

runs the sweat

of the mighty slave,

his sculptural black body

forged in sun and splendor…

A man who, with pride,

even enchained,

raised calloused hands

in fisted, existential cry

and challenged

his cruel destiny…

final and essential element

of your rich ancestry.

Don't bemoan your fate, son

—don't throw it to the void!—

when your grandfathers

—so many times great—

suffered dearly in your place

to leave you an inheritance beyond price,

garnered century by century

with pain, sacrifice

and noble deed incessant.

Because of this,

yours is a duty sacred,

to lift your head,

and with body held proud,

to be—finally—

in their honor and stead,

happy.

Designated Hitter

by Marie Delgado Travis

He reminded us, sagely,

that we are truth bearers,

specially ordained by our

ancestors to transmit

their sacred wisdom to

future generations.

But what is the message

we will carry?

Is it...

We are the tired, poor, hungry

(oops! oppressed—

almost forgot oppressed!)

disadvantaged, disenfranchised,

underprivileged, undereducated, 

underrepresented minority...

Women, no less, 

in some cases—

Double whammy!

Varying degrees of 

dullest brown,

handicapped, disabled,

check out these skid marks

on my back, nobody knows

the trouble I’ve seen... 

Abandon all hope

ye who enter here.

Mudville!

Because the system, 

the game, the man,

EVERYTHING is

stacked against us.

Or is it, simply...as I can imagine

one of my Taino ancestors

telling his son, my tataratatarabuelo,

at a ceremonial ballpark in

Borinquen several centuries ago:

“Hey, listen up, kid.

Here’s the bat. And 

no matter which dream 

you choose to follow...

Regardless of what

may happen in life, 

Keep swinging and

sooner or later, you

(or one of our descendants)

is going to hit it out of

the ball park.”

No wonder there are so

many famous (and rich)

Hispanic ballplayers...

And Latino actors

singers

writers

doctors

nurses

lawyers

teachers

engineers

politicians

astronauts

policemen

firemen

beauty queens

and....whew!

What do you want to be

when YOU grow up?

MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS is an award-winning author.  She writes poetry and prose in English and Spanish.  Visit her web site at www.mariedelgadotravis.com

BESLAN

by MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS
www.mariedelgadotravis.com
www.lulu.com/marilu

Tonight I will hold you, Alana,
And keep you warm.

You were the smartest girl
In your class and know the
Word “terrorist” does not exist
In a third grader’s vocabulary.

I will hold you tonight,
Pretty little girl in pigtails,
Long chestnut-brown hair
And gentle eyes.

Your mother cries that
She did not protect you.
But you realize she was
Not given that choice.

The hostage-takers – who
Said they believed in God –
Would let her leave with
Only one of her children.

You understand your
Baby sister,
Not yet two,
Wasn’t nearly
As clever as you.

I will hold you in my arms
And sing you lullabies.

Brave nine year-old.

The captors -- who
Said they fought for
Freedom – shot you
As you tried to escape.

Your apartment building
Steps from the school.
In your room, favorite
Games and books.

I will hold you, child
And rock you gently.

Sweet little girl.

You know that red is
The color of crayons
And toy balloons,
Not the splatter of
Children’s blood.

I will hold you
Tonight, Alana,
And in my own way,
Keep you alive.

We’ll play
Dolls together.

Matrushka –

Doll within doll
Within...

SEPTEMBER 11, 2001

by Marie Delgado Travis
www.mariedelgadotravis.com
www.lulu.com/marilu

On September 11, I saw
people fly to heaven.
Passengers and crew on
commercial airliners.
Others climbed
heaven’s steps:
police, firemen.
Rescuers sped
there on ambulance.
Office workers leapt into
God’s waiting Arms.
Restaurant workers and
window washers
entered through the
Windows of the World.
A priest arrived
there on his knees,
as he ministered
last rites to others.
Brave souls fought
through hell’s fires,
to reach the
destination
via New York,
Pennsylvania, DC.
Celestial gates
opened to
welcome
3,000 souls,
according to
Divine Plan
... not man’s.
For what the
hijackers so
carefully and
evilly planned,
was hijacked
by God
that day.

To a Lost Lover

by Marie Delgado Travis
www.mariedelgadotravis.com
www.lulu.com/marilu

I lingered on
The shore alone,
Hair tousled softly
By the ocean breeze.

The opal sea
-- Jealous,
No doubt, of the
Blue depths
Of his eyes –
Had claimed
My lover
As her own
Many years
Before.

Invoking his spirit,
I asked if he still
Remembered.

And the sea
Began to churn
In beveled colors.

Blind Homer himself
Would have been
Dazzled by the
Foam-white and
Wine orchids
Shimmering
In the rosy
Sunset.

I knew then
For certain.

My Odysseus
Never left me.

And I remain
His true
Penelope.

BIJOUX

by Marie Delgado Travis
www.mariedelgadotravis.com
www.lulu.com/marilu

I wear the people I’ve met
Like beads and chains
Strung round my neck.
Some sway lightly,
As I walk...
Filigree cross.
Others wear me down,
Leaden albatross.

Exquisite gems,
Semi-precious stones,
Worthless glass,
Bits of bone.

Cartier snakes,
Obvious fakes,
That do their best
To trip and tangle me,
While dangling
With such
Seeming grace.

Chokers with cameo faces,
Velvet to the touch,
Yet wrapped so tight,
They strangle.

Bold medallion shields.
Soft gold that yields.
Sharp, metal edges
That cut, leaving traces.

Broken necklaces,
Bijouterie.

Silver swirls
Dancing in the
Onyx night,
Glittering
Even in my dreams.

And you, a single strand
With tear-shaped pearl,
That encases a simple
Speck of sand.

IMAGINE

by Marie Delgado Travis
www.mariedelgadotravis.com
www.lulu.com/marilu

Imagine
What would happen
If tomorrow morning,
Say, around ten,
You woke up to find
You were 100 per cent
Stone cold dead.

Once you got over
The initial surprise
Of your, well,
Untimely demise,
What would be your reaction?

That all gone sensation?

Or proud satisfaction
Of the life you led?

Whom would you miss?
Would they know it?
Would you be missed?
By whom?

Had you straightened your room?
Was your underwear clean?
Were you a kind "human bean"
Or ugly, nasty and mean?

Were you all work and no fun?
An irresponsibly lazy bum?
What was left undone?
Had you met that special someone?

What would your tombstone say?
What was your very best day?
Were you led by your brain, your heart,
Your tummy or body part south of that?

What was your greatest achievement?
Chief regret?
Whose birthday did you forget?

What color was your crayon?
One-dimensional...
Or 3-D?

Was your life a steady upward climb?
A downhill slide ...
Or did you just
Go along for the ride?

What mistake would
You have liked to fix
Before sailing on
The River Styx?

You always wanted X.
Did you accomplish blank?

Was there someone
You’d have liked to thank,
Apologize to or
Just called to say
"Hey, how are you?"
"I love you in the purest way!"

Which word or sentence
Sums up your time?
Were you a song, a rhyme?
Free verse or terse?

Where would have
Liked to wander?
Were your talents multiplied
Or were they squandered?

What are those talents anyway?
Make a list of them right away!

Did you snivel and complain,
Count your blessings or your pains?
Did you care for your fellow man,
Whether his name was
Smith or Chan?

Had you cared for your body
Or was it treated rather shoddy?

Did you nourish your spirit,
Feed the birds?
What books were read,
Important words unsaid?

Well, luckily,
No need for sorrow.
Chances are, you,
Like the dawn
Will rise again
Tomorrow.

At the end of the day
And hopefully each thereafter,
How will you have shown
Your Master
In thoughtful deeds,
Kind words and laughter,
How much you value
The Gift of Life
He graciously
Let you borrow?

What will you do
To make the
MOST of it?

IMAGINE
What could happen!

The Flower's Song

CANCION DE LA FLOR

AL PAJARITO

por Marie Delgado Travis

.

¡Eres mi cielo!
¡Seamos uno con la tierra!

Arráncame con tus alas.
Quémame en el sol de tu mirada,
Mil veces bésame de terciopelo.

Desnúdame pétalo a pétalo
... hasta deshojarme.

Suaviza mis espinas.

Fundamos nuestras almas gemelas
hasta el desborde de nuestro perfume,
y nuestras lágrimas-rocío
apaguen esta sed.

Riégame con tus sueños,
Con ternura canta tu pasión,
Para que nazca en tu pecho
una flor...

Y en mí, un ruiseñor.

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THE FLOWER’S SONG
TO THE LITTLE BIRD

by Marie Delgado Travis

.

You are my heaven!
Let us be one with earth!

Pluck me with your wings.
Burn me in your sun-gaze.
Cover me with a thousand
velvet kisses

.

Undress me petal by petal
until I am stripped bare.

Soften my thorns.

Let us meld our twin souls
‘til our perfume overflows,
and our dewy tears
Douse this thirst.

.

Sprinkle me with your dreams,
Sing tenderly your passion.
So that a flower may bloom
in your breast...

And in me,
a nightingale.

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"CANCION DE LA FLOR AL PAJARITO / THE FLOWER'S SONG TO THE LITTLE BIRD" is featured in Marie Delgado Travis' award-winning bilingual (Spanish-English) poetry book, LA VENTANA / THE WINDOW, available at online bookstores worldwide, including www.amazon.com and on her personal storefront www.lulu.com/marilu. For more information about Marie's award-winning work, please visit her web site: http://www.mariedelgadotravis.com

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