"alonzo" poems
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
6.9k
When I first met you, I cried.
Looking upon your silhouette, I wondered.
Reading your articles, I wanted to know you.
Searching for hours, I would find you.
A traveling boxer, just breaking into fame.
A husband, a father.
She moved from Pennsylvania to Oregon, and was your demise in 1902.
I moved from Pennsylvania to Oregon, and I will remember you.
A decade younger than her, but I feel the responsibility heavy on my shoulders. The resemblance to me, uncanny
She took you to your grave and I will celebrate your life.
Why did it have to take this long?
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 1:35 AM UTC
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.
VIRGIL.
Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection
Embitters the present, compar’d with the past;
Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection,
And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last;
Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance
Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied;
How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance,
Which rests in the ***** though hope is deny’d!
Again I revisit the hills where we sported,
The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought;
The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted,
To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught.
Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d,
As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay;
Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d,
To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray.
I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded,
Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown;
While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded,
I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone.
Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation,
By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d;
Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation,
I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d.
Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you!
Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast;
Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you:
Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest.
To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me,
While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll!
Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me,
More dear is the beam of the past to my soul!
But if, through the course of the years which await me,
Some new scene of pleasure should open to view,
I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me,
“Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
1.7k
(Memories of a Far Away Land)
I miss the mornings when I could listen to the roosters that loudly crowed.
Open the window to the scent of fresh tortillas, from the abarrotes it flowed.
Everyday I would wake engulfed by mountains and their fresh fresh air.
Alonzo's voice carrying loudly, "Empanadas, Empanadas, get them here."
Daily cruises through the streets of Juarez Mexico I often will reminisce,
Ending up in Downtown Centro to buy whatever, it was anyone's guess.
I miss going to the little grocers to buy, mandarins, avocado and mango,
The long waits in line on the Bridges of America trying to cross to El Paso.
Bathing in metal tubs, washing clothes by washboard with your bare hands,
I'll forever keep the precious memories safely in my heart, of a far away land.
Lopez ©reationz 2014
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
Sabi mo, walang magbabago
Pero ngayon, halos hindi na kita makilala
Hindi mo lang ako basta isinabay sa iba
Ipinagpalit mo pa ako
Hanggang sa tuluyan mo na akong kinalimutan
Sabi mo, walang magbabago
Pero ngayon, ibang-iba ka na
Minsan, tinatanong ko ang sarili ko
Katulad ng pagtanong ni Liza Soberano kay Enrique Gil
“Pangit ba ako?”
“Kapalit-palit ba ako?”
“Am I not enough?”
Dati, halos walang makapaghiwalay sa ating dalawa
Ang sabi mo pa, “Ikaw lang at wala nang iba pa”
Ako mismo ang naging kaagapay mo sa pagkilala mo sa kanila
Pero bakit ako mismo ngayon ang nawalan ng halaga?
Bakit ako mismo ngayon ang hindi mo na binibigyang pansin?
Nagpaka-layo-layo ka’t ibinaon ako sa limot
Ibinaon mo ako sa kahapon
Kung saan kasama ko ang mga iba mo pang itinapon
Pero tama na
Tama na ang pagiging Liza Soberano
Hindi na kita kukulitin at magtatanong ng isang milyong bakit
Hindi rin ako magiging si Piolo Pascual
Na hihingi ng explanation at acceptable reason
At lalong hindi rin ako magiging si Bea Alonzo
Na hihilingin na “sana ako na lang ulit”
Dahil tanggap ko na
Hindi ko na hihingin pang ako lang ang piliin mo
Magpaparaya ako’t papayag na isabay mo sa iba
Isa lang ang hihilingin ko
Na sana ‘wag mo akong tuluyang kalimutan
Na sana ‘wag mo hayaang tuluyan akong mawala sa buhay mo
Dahil gaano man kahabang panahon ang lumipas
At gaano man karami ang nagbago sa pagitan nating dalawa
Ako pa rin ang tunay na laging andito para sa’yo
Ako pa rin ang Wikang Filipino na kahit nagbago man, ay nandito pa rin at nananatili para sa’yo
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
In contrast with the cold morning air,
The house was cozy and warm
As we all arrived to participate
Like worker bees starting to swarm.
The smell of pork and refried beans
Permeated the room.
The champagne bottles were chilling on ice--
How much did we consume?
Sally brought some egg McMuffins.
I thought, "Something's amiss:
Egg McMuffins and NO pan dulce!°°
What kind of party is this?"
But I wouldn't miss it--nope--for nada:
The annual Alonzo family tamalada.
The giant bucket of masa°°° awaited
Marisa's kneading hands.
While she kneaded the dough, the rest of us
Listened for Sally's commands.
After a brief champagne toast,
Our assembly line started.
Everyone had a job to do;
It wasn't for the faint-hearted.
Spreading the masa on the husks
Was a messy task.
I wondered, "How many will we make?"
But I was afraid to ask.
It wasn't very long before
Everyone in the casa
Was practically covered from head to foot
With fluffy tamale masa.
We spread and stuffed and folded and wrapped
While Sally entertained us.
The conversation, laughter, fun,
And champagne all sustained us.
The wonderful smells of lunch also
Encouraged us to work hard
Lest we be known as shirkers and our
Reputations be marred.
But I wouldn't miss it--nope--for nada:
The annual Alonzo family tamalada
After a few hundred tamales,
The masa was getting low.
I said, "Yay! We're almost done!"
But Alice said, "Oh, no.
That was just the pork; now we're
Making chile and cheese."
Blurry-eyed I held up my spoon
And said, "More hojas,°°°° please."
On and on we continued to work
Like hive bees making honey.
But it was worth it, for these tamales
Are more valuable than money.
Alice, Yvonne, Kathy, Yolie,
Aida, and Sally know why--
As do Marisa, Rebecca, Karen,
Marisol, Nancy, and I--
We always look forward to getting together
For laughter, fun, and cheer
And this spirited, heart-warming gathering
Whenever December is here.
Homemade tamales can't be beat
When made in our special fashion
With love, care, conviviality,
Warmth, goodwill and passion.
I wouldn't miss it--nope--for nada:
The annual Alonzo family tamalada.
__________
°tamale-making party
°°Mexican sweet bread
°°°dough
°°°°(corn husk) leaves
- by Bob B
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
Wake up, hello,
wake up, hello,
wake up, hello,
Shaped are the pale clouds that billow
In my lucid dreams, blue, orange, pink and bright yellow
Now and later I dream of snicker wrappers sticking to my pillow
Purple trees surrounding me
Laffy taffy toes when I see my feet and I laugh and giggle
Paranoid in my sleep
I just ate my baby nieces skittles
And my little sisters cereal
With goose pimples and spiders tingling up and down my skin
My brain is pulsing harder
No, no, don't let those cats get in
Because Dolce ate my shrimps, and Gucci ate my cake.... Joe
Put the bag down Jake!
Like I'm Alonzo on a sugar high from all the skittles
When I stop dreaming fluffy cat, pink, and bright yellow pillows
I need to slow it down with the herbs I bought shopping for medicinal
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
Hermano: Alonzo Dominic Lopez, desde ustedes izquierda
Yo tener estado muriendo como ustedes murió!
Hermano: Alonzo Dominic Lopez= yo perder ustedes así mucho!
Hermano: amor ustedes
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
Another death on our southern border--
THIS time an eight-year-old child.
You'd have to be an unsympathetic
And cold-hearted person not to be riled.
Little Felipe Gómez Alonzo
Died near the border on Christmas Eve.
The Guatemalan child's death
Leaves another family bereaved.
Representative Peter King
In an interview brushed aside
The pain and seriousness and said
ONLY TWO children have died.
ONLY TWO? And why? Because
The Trump admin is changing the ways
Asylum seekers apply for refuge
With obstacles and major delays.
Closing the ports of entry and making
Families find alternate routes
Through dangerous areas to plead their cases
Has shocked the world and raised many doubts.
Trump and his staff are experts at how to
Manipulate his base with lies--
To turn the public against the very
People they dehumanize.
The Grand Deceiver claims a wall
Will solve our system of immigration.
Though ludicrous, the wall, he says,
Will be our only hope of salvation.
He lashes out through foolish tweets,
Childish tantrums, and angry threats,
Blasting dissenters and passing blame
Without compunction, with no regrets.
Asylum seekers who've brought their children…
Did they ever anticipate
That they'd flee death to find it here
In a sad, ironic twist of fate.
-by Bob B (12-29-18)
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Half obscured by powder smoke, the long Grey line comes on.
“Double canister and hard shot, pour it on them boys!”
They dress the line and still they come, inexorably, like fate.
We are in need of some support, but will it come too late?
A high wood fence disrupts their charge, like clotting blood they mass.
As many a dying Virginian boy wishes for his cup to pass.
“For Fredericksburg!” “For Fredericksburg!” Alonzo Cushing cried.
We worked our guns and gave them hell for all our friends who’d died.
Our blood is up and still they come, over the parapet.
We are all determined this is as far as they will get.
A breath of air, a cooling drink, a lover’s soft embrace;
Strange things crowd into your mind when in a hellish place.
A company of New Yorkers, coming on the double quick,
Have piled into the Rebel mass where the fighting was most thick.
Back you go, proud Virginians, back over the low stone wall.
Not so many as started out, no longer proud and tall.
A rebel of some prominence sits, dying, near my gun.
He asks for General Hancock, strange to hear that name upon his tongue.
My friend, Alonzo Cushing, lies beside the caisson where
He bleeds profusely from his wounds. He is too far gone to care.
He will not live to see the Sun rise in the East again,
Or live to hear a nation’s thanks for what he did for them.
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
Darlyn Cristabel Cordova-Valle hadn't seen her mother since she was one,
She came to the U.S to see her mother, she was hospitalized not long after she arrived. Her mother requested for her to be released, the government denied her request.
Darlyn died in U.S government custody on September 29th 2018 age 10.
Jakelin Amei Rosemary Caal Maquin liked to climb trees. She jumped when her father told her that she could come to the U.S with him.
She thought she might get her first toy; she'd only just got her first pair of shoes.
Jakelin died in U.S government custody on December 8th 2018 age 7.
Felipe Gomez Alonzo was excited to come to the U.S. he thought he might get a bicycle, his parents let him make the trip after he got upset that his dad would leave without him.
Felipe died in U.S government custody on Christmas Eve 2018 age 8.
Juan de Leon Gutierrez was a shy, good student. When he had to miss school to help his dad harvest coffee, he'd always run to catch his teacher so he could explain his absence.
Juan died in U.S government custody on April 30th 2019 age 16.
Wilmer Josue Ramirez Vasquez's mother brought him to the U.S to receive medical treatment for a condition which left him unable to walk.
Wilmer died in U.S government custody on May 14th 2019 age 2.
Carlos Gregario Hernandez Vasquez loved playing the piano and bass, his family called him Goyito. He had eight brothers and sisters. One of them, Edgar, had special needs. Carlos came to the U.S to help support Edgar.
Carlo died in U.S government custody on May 30th 2019 age 16.
These are only some of the documented deaths,
In 25 years,
It's estimated that over 10,000 people have lost their lives at the U.S-Mexico border.
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 3:03 PM UTC