Upile Chisala
La noche.
La noche.
Dreams,
no, dreams aren’t for the satisfied-
those in love with the real.
those not clinging to the paraphernalia of time,
we believe not in the stillness of thought
but in the beauty of action,
holding, embracing moments
as they come not when it
is their time to leave,
to waltz out into memory
into the subconscious.
Never digging through
the rubble of the past
looking for surviving trinkets of time
La noche
La noche
A sky bejeweled
and under it motion .
Yes locomotive nights
moments fast coming,
fast fading,
you are at fault not enjoy it
not to dance when music plays loud
roaring!
a lion in your ear
you have howled
yourself into a pit
dug by your own hands,
where you waste time
wishing on fairy dust,
hoping to redo, undo, replay
and alter
so you can get a second chance
But time does not favor.
my friend,
Time does not pick sides.
Rise and kiss the real,
love the image not its reflection
embrace the now
and not its shadow.
Soy yo en fragmentos
Yo en pedazos
Yo en partes
Y algunos dias no soy yo para nada
Translation:
I am me in fragments,
me in pieces, me in parts.
And some days I am not me at all.
I want to die a rose
freshly budding from
the ground,
a summer’s day
Rosita
with petals
all colors found,
a tall angelic
flower
of beauty and of lush
that sways
and dances
in the wind-rush
If only I could walk right under your
caramel complexion
and venture for your heart.
Then I would knit our souls together.
I wish I could tiptoe in and settle
in the cage of your chest
that I too may be a bird of a kind
and sing.
Mary loved the rain
She loved the songs it made
at the windowsill
she’d hum along
she knew each note
always in tune
drip drop drip drop
she danced as it hit the
ground
and if she wanted to dance
along outside
she’d call for her rain boots
no coat
she never liked the coat
and from the windowsill
i would watch her dance
watch the mud tickle her boots
watch the rain kiss her hair
she never danced around puddles
she loved to splash right in them
and sing along
and dance along
Mary in the rain
The day she left
the rain sang her goodbye
the pitter patter
the drip drip drop
and I watched her from the
windowsill
I waved but she couldn’t see me
the umbrella covered her face
drip drip drop drop
and she was gone
and then the rain stopped
I sit sometimes by the windowsill
hoping she’ll come about
but neither rain nor Mary
appear
but I wait
looking out,
maybe it’ll bring her back
send her back
maybe just maybe
the pitter patter pitter patter
will come along with Mary
Mama says she isn’t coming
Maybe its cause of the drought
That’s what’s keeping her away
I clean her boots
and wipe the window
ready for her return
and then I kneel and
say a prayer
I say a prayer to the Rainmaker
to send the drops of life
so Mary will come about
and dance in them
and sing along
and sing along
I ask for the grayest of
clouds
and the rainiest of rains
cause if with it comes Mary
she’ll never leave again.
