"FACINGFACES 2002 - 04" SELECTED POETRY (Part 2)

FOR SALE

Wait!
Please… don’t look away,
I have something for you,
look at me,
here’s a body for sale,
feel this hair that keeps the essence of many nights,
a pair of eyes that could still discover many wonders,
a full mouth that hasn’t dried out it’s kisses,
the elegance of this neck’s naked lines,
I offer much on a silver platter,
the colors of the rainbow over this skin,
these pair of breasts that never fed,
a couple of hands that haven’t lost all of their caresses,
one belly hungry at the bottom for a different kind of meat,
this hidden place of battles called sex,
and two long legs… and two long legs.
I have a body for sale,
you can set the price,
It’s all in this quiet, quiet white room
on these cold silver platter,
some of it scattered, next to other deaths.
It’s used and tired I admit,
some hair was tore,
the eyes will never wake up again,
nor the mouth be wet anymore,
I know someone broke the neck,
and the skin holds old and new wounds,
the breast is wide opened,
and the hands lay like dead fish,
the belly can’t regain the air to breath,
and the place called sex along with the two legs
lost it’s final battle after many, many of them.
But please, don’t look away,
this body is young still,
I still have so much to give.
Look at me,
Before they close this door forever
buy me a couple of seconds more,
let me think what could I’ve done to walk away from the chains of love-hate,
to save my self even when society can’t,
to stop turning the other cheek.
Give me a sentence of kind words I never heard,
take me away.
I still had so much to give.


A THOUSAND FACES

How many faces are there in this city?
How many strangers and how many known
as you walk along the dirty sidewalk?
How many will see you everyday
far beyond the mask we use in our everyday carnival?
And I wonder if it has always been like this
or if time has made us change;
I suppose no one could really tell
because every time we believe we are growing
and building a better place
we keep forgetting where to put ourselves.
Houses and fences are not enough to keep us apart,
we no longer look inside anybody’s eyes,
we no longer care to ask why,
we no longer think we can change the way of minds
for something more than to gain a coin or two,
we no longer see the tears or the bruises on another one’s skin,
we don’t hear any cries for help,
and can’t feel any feelings far from the one’s on tv,
an unfair death doesn’t makes us weep;
as we grow we lose our abilities to hold,
love, kiss, speak, wait, hope, dream, give,
run, wake up, smile, understand, think, believe,
be, live.
I guess we assume we are to many to reach out,
to helpless to help,
to used to swim in our own suffering,
to attached to an imposed destiny.
Maybe it has always been like that.
How many faces are there in this city?
How many strangers and how many known
as you walk along the dirty sidewalk?
And how many will you see everyday
far beyond the mask we use in our everyday carnival?


© Liza di Georgina - México.