Hallows Eve/Dias De Los Muertos NaPoWriMo poem

By Daniel Paiz

Time is still in probably the strangest time continuum I’ve witnessed thus far in this thing called life. Now, days are flying by and then dragging by. Weeks are passing at a solid clip. And months? Well, those are flying faster than they ever have before in recorded human history.

All this is to say that it’s time for another NaPoWriMo piece as the goal is to drop a piece once a month. Take a minute, reflect on those you have lost and care about. Take a deep breath and recall what you appreciated most about them, and what about them sticks with you.

Now, proceed with the following piece.

A Reminiscent Furrow

*deeply gazes at the full moon before beginning to recite*

Remove the witch wig,

Gasp under the werewolf mask,

take that last bite of candy

underneath the full blue moon sans sound,

Back to a time when

life slowed ridin’ around the bend,

memories with homies would always extend,

sending the blink of an eye into question,

what happened?

Those furrows drive life when waiting in line,

checking out from present to reignite signs,

that was the favorite of your person,

over there was where homegirl did hair,

blown out never lacking flare,

yet the warning to present reality wasn’t there

pray or reflect before any vigils or marches,

no debate as history has me encased.

But from altars to tombstones

the offerings are meant to reunite,

I’ll admit I slacked at it,

but it’s never been meant as a slight,

kite brain navigating canes of ash glow,

throw down on us mother nature has,

because connections we forgo

I don’t know about you but that I can’t do anymore.

*exhales a big cloud of cold air as the moon illuminates the speaker fades into darkness, perhaps forevermore*


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s