Have You Ever Had to?

By Octaviano Merecias-Cuevas (June 16, 2018)

Have you ever had to?

Abandon a lifetime at the eye-blink notice of a memory?
As villages collapse and dreams become black fumes?
As tanks roll-in while drones of anger machete their bloody ways into crops and farms?
No laws can stop imploding sadness; burying babies in Syria. 
Dead AF floating towards the shores of your consciousness.
Migration then… is not a fucking choice;
As we become walking clandestine dreams on stolen lands.

Have you heard the symphony of exodus?
Decapitated destinies and mutilated dreams; vibrating!
Toxic poverty of institutionalized stress; raising!
Rows of footsteps carrying crucified Gods in palms of dreamers hands
Escaping carcinogen greed of capitalism; who’s legacy?
Remedying the asthmatic last speech of a 4-year-old
Witnessing tear-ed little hands from moms along the border.

Migrating in paths of your ancestor’s plans; a better life
escaping cages, emperors of corrupt plans and genocide;
AK’s disguised as bibles and doves into moral enforcers
As seven-headed false prophets fight porn-stars; silence
Vomiting hypocrisy underneath the stars of our flag; compliance.

Crossing a fence, jumping a border; the last choice or falling into:
the indignity of decomposing into the mouth of the desert
Suffocating into the extremities of the oceans; praying
Holding crushed infant hands in collapsing clinics.
Starving for a new beginning in shadows of invisibility
flowering into emerging hopes; photosynthesing dreams

Mother, aunties, grandmas, sisters…
holding on tightly the innocent hands
Like holding onto the last feelings that germinate our souls
Her sentence lingering on a piece of paper with her name;
Her hope collapsed into the absence of a piece of paper
When home burns as a waving flag legacy of colonial brutality;
The only house left for us to walk is the naked world;
As memories of dinosaurs-into-butterflies today remind us;
migrate, to survive, like waves, like wind, like time… Like Life.

Is there an accidental kind gesture within your soul?
Can today shine your merciful medicine of secrets?
Here’s the last piece of my hand; families belong together
like mind, soul and spirit belong into one wisdom!

Poesia Mixta

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