A Proper Burial

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Thomortiz.com

 

It was told that/ those who disappeared in Mazatlán/ made their way across/ the Sierra Madres/ in the Mexico Basin/ where their pirate souls were restored/ by the salty sea/ of the Gulf/

Where food/ and basic human decency were scarce/ violent men/ and beautiful, broken women/ got rich off the dark weaknesses/ of upstanding citizens and tourists/ on the islands/From Puerto Rico to St. Croix/ Dominica to Barbados/ archangels chased the excesses/ of the West Indies/ to the confluence of the Caribbean Sea/ and the Atlantic/

Shipwrecks could be seen/ from tattered motels/ in Fort de France/ The authorities were a part of/ if not altogether responsible/ for the corruption/ as long as they were compensated/ in ways/ that were difficult to prove/ It was whispered/ that muffled screaming could be heard/ from the women/ whimpering all throughout/ the halls/ Most were stolen from their homelands/ and brought here/ to be sold/ to men with an/ especially sadistic streak/ Even the authorities/ who did not participate/ stood watch/ to guard/ to protect the women/ The local mental institution/ was the largest residence/ on the island/

It was always in paradise/ where waves sounded like Elysian Fields/ where the worst of humanity/ drowned/ in aquamarine/ and pirate’s gold/ so long as the myth/ was created from pathos/ so as it remained a mystery/ so long as the/ sane/ the artistic/ the healers/ the shamans/ the eccentrics/ were tortured/ were exiled/ were strange and ill/ so long as the free/ were enslaved/ could there be what is called/ paradise/

The mask of an/ unspeakable/ a hidden/ an unforgivable violence/ just below the surface/ there/ within each person/ the potential/ it exists/ there exist/ infinite excuses/ to qualify malice/ Human beings will trench/ their very last heuristic/ to prove it/ and only in our/ blindest anger/sparkling like a satellite/ we falter/ a repulsive continuum/ a mutilated ecstasy/ The armies have overtaken/ the capital/ Paradise/ a requiem

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13 thoughts on “A Proper Burial

  1. wow. This is so different. I like the historical points, but most of all the conclusion. We humans are full of mystery and one of those mysteries is our capacity to be cruel, and defend our cruelty.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Rich textures, an impasto of language quickly applied..giving us the images piled up, stacked colors against an aquamarine sea, islands of refuge suffering in sunlight and shadows hiding from horrors, a chiaroscuro of emotions, a stark trompe l’oeil of the effect of political forces affecting the life of innocents. Your poem reminds me of the work of Derek Wolcott. If you don’t know his work, I think you would like to read it. You have considerable talent as a poet. I enjoyed this a great deal.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Primitives of Paradise
    one in BEinG Nature
    separate no illusion..
    unity inside
    outside
    above
    so below
    and all around..
    PriSons oF words..
    iN uniForms..w/guns
    take free away.. and
    finAlly iT comes
    aGain
    iN stories
    oF online
    REAL.. aGaiN..:)

    Liked by 1 person

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