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Consanguine Salmagundi
August 14, 2010
The roots of my ancestors move deeper into my skin,
Like fingertips in the very soil of my life,
Irish rebellion enkindling emotions with the power of the Feinan Revolution,
Heart stretched wide like a Bird of Thunder,
But in a constant quarrel against my brain, a spirit of Sura and Baya,
Goals reaching high, the expectations of a cloud-eating jackal,
Well grounded, a Moss Maiden,
A voodoo enchantment with the freedom of life.
The roots of my ancestors toss the soul of a salmagundi.
© Warlito B., Tamuning, GU
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This article has 1 comment.
Thesilentraven PLATINUM said...
on Sep. 11 2010 at 2:30 pm
I confess to not knowing any of the mythological stories to which you're referring. But I still think this is a great poem; it's a very interesting idea. Our ancentry is what composes the beginning of our story!
