Monday, May 11, 2009

अंकल अल Nine

Crossroads to the world
Grey steel spans the great divide
Wayward traveler, pen in heart
Heart in hand
Heart in home
Skyline etched in twilight
Salt spray dance on fists of bread
Immigrants dine on bread and cheese
Hopes and dreams well like tears
Softening life's hard tack
Rusting away the shackles
Diesel oil mixes with the scent of home
As a blood red sun falls behind the sea
Now a shadow across his thoughts
Your journey starts
Where a life suddenly ends
Wayward westward bound
Memories fade like the wake of the ship
Yet the waves forever travel westward
Forever westward
Into the sun
Out into the realm of the Manong
Port of call for empty hearts
Beyond long gone horizons
Closer now, the Island of Angels
Immigration stations hold dreams in chains
Paint peeling on barrack walls
Chinese poems carved in wood
Speaking of home in hope colored tradition
Well lived eyes in weather worn faces
Worn from silent toil
Worn from the journey less traveled
Yet eyes still hopeful
The boats cut through endless miles
Miles of silk and fabled lore
The waves continue westward bound
Bound for New China and Manilatown
Chinatown open your gates of jade
Weary travelers beckon your call
Weary from miles suffered in heart
Weary from a journey never ending
A daughter's son
A father's brother
All wayward westward bound
All longing
Longing for the New World
As twilight passes into night
A city beckons from the barracks
Two miles to the promise of life new
Five thousand miles from home
The Manong's pen records it all
Ink seeps like blood on silk
Pouring across the naked page
The Manong's heart grows weary
His soul spilling across the page
It's pulp cries for ink and crimson
Screaming a need for voice
Crying out
The Manong's hand starts to move
Carving thought into page and mind
Wayward westward bound
Like a migration of blood to heart
Bring forth the tea leaf of life
Patterns ever changing
Like the wave forever wayward westward
Forever flowing

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