My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by Ron Stock on January 15, 2016, 8:55 am 187.139.76.143
For A Few Hours, We Were All The Same of Hurricane Patricia slamming into the little fishing village of La Manzanilla del Mar, Mexico, on October 23, 2015, in the late afternoon, early evening light, until darkness of palm trees that swished and swayed like pulsating jellyfish in the violent turbulence of birds who had no route of escape and were locked inside the eye of the hurricane of los scorpiones, the wise elders, who crawled underground to avoid the hassle of our ancient, sedate community of crocodiles, who probably didn't even notice of a baby chick in a nest, in a weak tree, of how it survived 165 mph winds, or not of a 3-year-old niña who sang church songs to block out the howling sting of the wind of a man who watched large tree branches curling around inside spiraling wind vortices of the roadside tropical forest whisked away to become a pile of rubbish in the jungle of a woman who heard a train roar by as large sections of her roof slid into her garden of Mexicano and Gringo tile lamina and palapa roofs that sailed se fue into the sunset of la mujer who witnessed the brick walls of her house expand and contract then topple of a 9-year old standing chica who repeatedly bounced her back up against a brick wall of la madre of the same back-pounding chica who ate and ate and ate and ate every hour of el hombre naked because he didn't want to get his clothes wet while collecting food for his mate arms wrapped tightly around the trunk of a palm tree red tiles whizzing by his head like bullets thinking 'I'm going to die and God's going to see me like this.' of una mujer and two women who sat in a car inside a garage with a bottle of tequila of a man who stood in front of with both hands pressed against a bulging glass window of the man who watched 8 windows/sliding glass doors crack and explode onto his patio of a man who stood in his outdoor kitchen in the wind heard a sound looked up looked over and noticed a half-inch thick twig embedded like an arrow into the metal casing of his refrigerator door. La familia now hangs a blue dish towel on the hook of dogs, cats, iguanas, and pelicanos missing, of roads washed away, steel highway signs snapped at ground level, of telephone poles an' tree trunks piled high like pick-up sticks of a 15-year-old muchacho, who calmly recorded his feelings on paper every 30 minutes of los soldados, who loaded black body bags into their trucks but fortunately did not use of la mujer, who found the red floor of her restaurant undermined by heavy ocean waves of several familias, y families, whose houses y casas were brutally beaten or destroyed of the man who had five huge trees collapse onto his roof, now he lives in the sunny lane of an 11-year old niña who wrote, “No lights, no television, all restaurants torn down.” of the pre-stress, stress, and post-stress felt by all, todo, in town, nearby, or far far away of la gente especial, the special people who helped others before they helped themselves of sadness, despair, fear, tears, repair, scattered rubble, being stunned, and resilience of the man with a camera, but no roof, who afterward simply said, “Hurricanes Suck.” of a rumor, chisme, of one poet's outdoor pink toilet tumbling down a barren hillside of el hombre, who said, “Mexicanos y Gringos! For a few hours, we were all the same.” @ Ron Stock - 2015
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Posted by Jeanne on January 15, 2016, 9:15 am, in reply to "My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 187.139.81.91
Wonderful poem, Ron, and a great presentation of it last night! | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by Judy H on January 15, 2016, 9:17 am, in reply to "My Hurricane Patricia Poem"
Wow Ron! Very powerful! I related personally to so much what you've described. Your poem brought it all back for a few minutes...leaving me shaken all over again, tears still fresh on my face. Thank you for reminding me of what I thought I wanted to forget. Apparently all stays alive from within, reminding me this morning of the gift we were given to still be here...intact...alive... post Patricia! Judy H | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by Michel on January 15, 2016, 11:00 am, in reply to "My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 189.164.100.41
Thanks for posting Ron. It's for all who missed tour performance. | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by Mark S on January 15, 2016, 11:31 am, in reply to "Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 189.164.114.38
Ron, good poem, except the government was not here during it or the day after that I could see. CNN was, as well as CFG (is that the right name for the power company?). It was the local community that removed the trees from the roads, and generally restored the town. | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by mayama/shanti on January 15, 2016, 12:59 pm, in reply to "Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 187.139.73.208
What an enjoyable evening by Ron, Jeanne, Julie and Melody. Thanks for enjoying your creativity and expression of yourselves. Thanks to Melody, Casa Luz and all who supported this presentation. | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by Ron Stock on January 15, 2016, 6:55 pm, in reply to "Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 187.139.76.143
To Mark S. The poem never states the government was here during or after. It simple says of los soldados, who loaded black body bags into their trucks but fortunately did not use Hope to see you at the Story Slam Thanks for he interest, Ron | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by Mary on January 15, 2016, 1:52 pm, in reply to "My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 187.139.69.24
The poetry reading last night was incredible. Love it and your poems | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by mokita on January 15, 2016, 6:06 pm, in reply to "My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 73.254.217.222
Thank you Ron: La manzanilla is a universe hidden inside a wild flower from the jungle,fragile and exotic but indestructible. Is a goddess who chooses who lives under her protection. mokita. | ------------------------Re: My Hurricane Patricia Poem
Posted by David Dagoli on January 15, 2016, 9:58 pm, in reply to "My Hurricane Patricia Poem" 189.164.107.170
It's cool; I like the cadence and the brief touchdowns on everyone's experience. Like a camera shutter clicking and capturing the vignettes. | ------------------------
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