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Unwelcome Guest

Child of nordic nations,
stranger to spears and arrows,
bronze painted bodies
your forebears vanished
from plains Tehuelche strode
with mighty steps,
present before the unwelcome guest.

You never saw virginal valleys
exploding into strife,
nor watched guanacos and ñandúes vanish
as winka carved out furrows
on a quest for love and life.

How could I once believe
there were no legends other than mine,
nor lips singing of riches
nurtured by spirits of sky and rock,
as here I stood on a land
whose wounds bled from lances
driven into undefiled Earth,
my own God could never heal.

Tehuelche = Brave people
Winka = White man, later thief, fibber, wicked, etc.
Guanaco = camelidae with padded feet.
Ñandue = Rhea Americana, similar to the ostrich.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I grew up listenning to all these horrible deeds. I suppose the child at the end is myself.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Hi, Gracy,
Your poem holds a deep sorrow and great sadness. It is as if there are mournful cries coming from the plains, valleys, rocks and Earth. Immense suffering. May I ask who is speaking? Is it an elder, a spirit of the Earth?
Thank you,
L

Hi Geez and thanks for commenting. It's myself talking to the child I once was. At the end, I question that child's beliefs, which were the ones I was brought up to believe.
Yes, I feel that it's my own spiritual self, not any strange entity. The carnage was horrendous, as in most countries with indigenous people, which would be just about all.
Best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

I believe you are replying to my comment, although I am enormously flattered that you thought I was Geezer! Truly! :) To understand now that your child / spiritual self was speaking adds all the more depth to your poem. What a meaningful expression!
Thank you!
L

So sorry, Lavender, goodness knows where my mind was, but there tis, you're glad I mistook you for Geezer.
Thank you for pointing it and for your comments. All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

read my mind Lavender. I was about to ask the same question and got my answer from you asking! LoL
It is a shame that mankind's legacy is that of a conqueror and not of bringing the light of other civilizations without the greed and obnoxiousness that so often accompanies explorers and those convinced that theirs is the only way. A great poem of sadness and truth. Thank you for bringing home the facts. ~ Geezer.
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Dear Geez, sorry about that mistake...lol. Yes, all conquerors have done the same. We continue to do so. We're getting our just punishment. As you know, I was brought up to love Nature, indigenous people and so on.
We poets, either good or bad, have this outlet to express to the world what we think. Not many people read or listen to poetry, nowadays. It's a shame, but there tis.
Thanks for visiting, all the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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