A helpless attempt to soil a barren landscape, stripped of its units, malleted by the colonizer that scoured for gold. He took his share of riches as bullets fired with his every step.

 

drips

upon

drips

   of blood befall Honduras

 

Splattering upon the landscape,

bullets seep into the soil,

a calorimeter of violence.

 

Coffee and bananas thrive, coated with centuries of gore,

endorsing vampirism overseas.

 

Maras en admiración,

More potent than police

A land stripped of peace

               Where

-The youth are extorted

-Ladies grow and never mature,

-Many are killed at the hands of amores,

Their femininity turned into femicide.

 

The land cries at the loss of its people,

As the innocent speak of death with glory,

And the youth utter the incalculable,

Every murder- insurmountable

 

The streets are painted with the hands of God,

Yet He revokes his blessing.

There remain relics of his Word,

Teeming with hypocrisy

And confessions of crimes

Incessantly wiped of notoriety

​

People falter to their knees-

some slain, others begging for their turn at justice

​

Honduras,

You are caught in your depths,

Drowning

Banner painted in blue

To the public you’re a five-star review,

With beaches

That conceal the waves

of colonialism

and

The falsities of intervention

 

If you look closer,

A ritualistic abuse

Is so mindlessly photographed

 

Can you learn to swim,

or will another lend a hand?

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