Maya Poems From Isla Mujeres

MOONBEAMS

lost and gone forever, tourists say

moon goddess Ixchel listens to their harsh lies

see her so tiny in this photo

sitting on a sliver of moon

reflecting on these Maya ruins

collapsed in decay

gray stone temple above the sea

where female spirits rise first each morning with orange sunshine

slumber late at night bathed in lemon moonbeams

more powerful than ever

Ixchel flings psychedelic rainbows across an azure sky

from Punta Sur

the highest point in holy Yucatán

on easternmost Mexican ground

respecting nature

demanding parity

wearing a crown of wriggling serpents

controlling dead souls in a crossbones skirt

carrying a overflowing water jug

our snake wisdom conjurer blesses the rain

curses with floods

protects pilgrims

condemns culprits

betray our astral empress  

at your own risk

better watch your bones

Maya Poems From Isla Mujeres

CONK

you can’t see us sitting on the red plastic chairs at Picus Cockteleria

because we left

the empty table

with no evidence of our presence

gone was her grilled conch pounded flat and tender

conk

conk

who’s there

conk

conk who?

conk anybody over the head who tries to steal a bite of her tasty sea snail

how do you say tikin xic I wanted to know

teek-en-sheek said the gold-toothed waiter

snapper?

grouper?

who cares?

yucatán tradition marinated in vibrant achiote paste made from crushed annatto seeds

giving it iconic bright orange-red hue

if only the smooth pink polished conch shell remained

I could join the two-piece house band

blow big notes like a maya warrior wearing an ancient feathered headdress

instead we danced in the sand on the way to the street

a table of four drunken women applauded when we walked by

conk

conk

who’s there

Feeding the Biden Beast

While starving youngsters in Gaza eat leaves President Joe Biden and VIP guests gobbled the best haute cuisine at Thursday night’s official state dinner to honor Kenya’s president. Set up in a pavilion on the South Lawn of the White House, the meal’s first course included Chilled Heirloom Tomato Soup, Sourdough Crisps and Arbequina Olive Oil.

Famished kids in Gaza are eating weeds.

Biden, the First Lady and connected guests devoured a main course of Fruitwood-smoked Beef Short Ribs, Butter-poached Lobster, Citrus Butter and Baby Kale, (with) Sweet Corn Purée.

Emaciated toddlers in Gaza are gnawing cactus leaves.

Dessert for privileged Democrats included White Chocolate Basket, Banana Ganache, Raspberries, Peaches and Candied Lime Zest

So bold and dinner party proud were White House staffers they emailed the menu to members of the press all over the world – including still living native-born Palestinian journalists still surviving in that hellish Gaza wasteland. Yet, while Biden and guests wiped full lips with crisp clean napkins, Israeli soldiers in our American government-sponsored slaughter forced a million Palestinians to move for as often as the ninth time just to stay alive as Israeli bombs continued to fall.

“As of April 2024, some residents of Gaza are eating leaves, weeds, and cactus leaves to survive due to food scarcity and a lack of aid supplies,” according to a Save the Children report. “Mallow, a variety of green leaf, is a common part of many Gazans’ diets because it’s inexpensive. Some residents also forage for food left by rats and eat animal feed.”

“Families in Gaza are forced to forage for scraps of food left by rats and eating leaves out of desperation to survive,” said the Save the Children report. War and rapidly declining aid supplies leave all 1.1 million children in Gaza facing starvation, the report says.

A traumatized Palestinian woman told aid workers, “My husband told me people have resorted to eating bird and animal food and tree leaves out of desperation. He has been forced to scavenge for scraps of food; he recently found scraps in his sister’s house that had already been ruined by rats but washed them and ate them anyway because there is literally nothing else left to eat. He said he will not perish from bombs, but from scarcity of food.”

No Candied Lime Zest for you.

Israeli tourist beaches, seaside nightclubs and countless high-end restaurants, what Pini Shani, Israel’s Tourism’s Deputy Director-General and Head of Marketing Administration, calls “the land of milk and honey,” are open for business as usual. At the same time, starving Palestinians await basic food distribution to be unloaded at a new pier American troops recently finished building on a sandy stretch of bombed-out barren land. American money paid for the pier because Israel continues to block crucial humanitarian aid while continuing to decimate the Palestinian civilian population, including men, women and children.

An increasing number of moral people in the civilized world have no appetite for this genocide. Judges at the top United Nations court, the International Court of Justice, or World Court, ruled Friday that, among other war crimes, Israel is intentionally starving civilians, a deliberate government policy that directly contributed to murdering more than 35,000 men, women and children — more than 14,000 of whom are women, children and old people.

Here’s the deal says Biden. Speaking at a celebration of Jewish Heritage Month Monday in the Rose Garden at the White House, Biden said Israel’s military assault in Gaza in the wake of the Hamas-led Oct. 7 attacks “is not genocide.”

“We reject that,” he said, telling an audience of Jewish leaders and activists that Americans “stand with Israel,” according to The New York Times.

But what about Palestinian children with hollow eyes chewing leaves or trying to fill empty bellies with rat food?

Have they tried the Sourdough Crisps?

I can just hear Biden smacking his lips saying, “Man, we didn’t get Butter-poached Lobster like this when I was a kid growing up in Scranton.”

Ah, Scranton, Biden’s allegedly beloved birthplace in Northeastern Pennsylvania, a still demanding region where a recent economic report estimated almost 25 percent of households scrape and save to live on a family income of less than $25,000 a year — a stark fact you never hear from Scranton Mayor Paige Gephardt Cognetti, an official Biden booster and re-election campaign surrogate, or any other pampered elected Democrat such as my honorary Zionist neighbor U.S. Sen. Bob Casey or my congressman U.S. Rep. Matt Cartwright.

You don’t have to get invited to an official White House state dinner to stuff yourself full of hypocrisy. If Cognetti, Casey and Cartwright keep sucking up to Biden and enabling his Gazan slaughter, though, their presence might very well be requested at the next state dinner — or at least lunch with Israeli lobbyists. If the White House does call, I urge our fallacious public servants to try the wine.

While Gazan youngsters scrounged for gutter water on Thursday night, White House servers poured Hartford Court Chardonnay “Four Hearts Vineyard” 2021, St. Innocent Pinot Noir “Shea Vineyard” 2019 and Iron Horse Classic Vintage Brut 2020.

Once you’ve been invited to sit at the king’s table, once you’ve feasted on Biden’s buffet of political opulence, how could any bourgeois bureaucratic gorger think of anything but using both bloodstained hands to grab more and more and more for himself or herself?

Political hustlers can’t help bellying up to the trough to satisfy their gastronomic greed for sustenance that feeds their self-absorbed aspirations. Government gluttons all, America’s publicly-funded enablers of Palestinian annihilation are to blame for human devastation, cultural decimation and the end of the world as Gaza knew it.

How about those bananas?

Or should I say Banana Ganache?

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

BEWARE

a feared woman

with good reason

Ixtabay sits by the sea

awaiting tanned fishermen, spanish sailors or bearded pirates

men

always men

enter her web

and disappear

into their own excesses

don’t blame

Ixtabay

blame yourself

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

MOMENTS

our picture now graces the wall at abuelos

the young woman server at the small family restaurant

asked if she could snap our image

you’re a beautiful couple, she said

i ordered a large margarita with salt and lime

stephanie asked for the cabernet

a whole bottle so I could carry what she didn’t drink back to our hideaway to finish while listening to night waves wash over my mind

then i ordered modelo negra

ah, un otro, i said in my greenhorn spanish accent

guacamole

whole red snapper on the bone

sea steaks with yucatán paprika maya style

 creatures comfort creatures

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

THIRD EYE

an afternoon siesta in the sun

seems like a lousy idea

too hot to sleep beneath beach umbrellas anchored in the sand

who dares doze

on plush cushions stretched across seaweed free playa norte?

who orders orange neon drinks swimming in cracked ice delivered by young barefoot women wearing thin black ankle-length sundresses?  

never close your third eye

savor electric shivers up and down your pineal gland

intuition never sleeps

awareness is a dark frigate bird hanging in bright sky

almost motionless

a calling card to strangers

drifting in blue space

a ticking kite

an arcane kite

watching   

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

IGUANA

empty in peach sun

above the beach

morning drinks at the guru beach club

for world travelers rich enough to afford luxury

our terrace awakes to mango pudding heat and hummus humidity soaking rich and poor in mexican majesty or yucatán misery

swimming with the lizards isn’t for everybody

survival depends on the lizard

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

TURTLES

you couldn’t see them at first but they were out there

bobbing helmeted heads

riding the tide

ancient surfers from faraway lands a thousand miles away

swimming toward edgy earth to accept Ixchel’s help

in choosing a mate

connecting in cosmic unity

giving birth to new life that awakened in sifting sand before crawling slowly with baby turtle steps back to the sea

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

SATORI

my first drink off the menu brought mescal and pepper salt

to cracked dry lips

a welcome drink at the guru beach club bar

ah, good, sings a brown-faced jack kerouac diety in a song sung by a black messenger bird

sand seeker suckers at the bar don’t hear jack’s melody

i whistle back

through pineapple passion and lime juice spit

wetting my whistle to share knowledge I know

but not too much

no guru should know too much 

until the time comes to order another cocktail rimmed with

hot pepper salt and a double shot of  

enlightenment that comes served in a big glass

Maya Poems of Isla Mujeres

Maya moon goddess Ixchel guards the entrance to Punta Sur.  

Giver of life to humans and nature, she protects women above all, offering refuge on this island of women from pirates who plunder at their own risk.

Marauders die.

Ixchel lives.

Giving birth to purple rainbows, our mighty ancient diety gives us love when we most need her warm embrace.

Fierce when necessary, directing floods and storms, Ixchel punishes mad ravers who betray kindness.

A sea turtle sits atop her head. Other times a snake decorated with human bones wraps around her head and neck. Claws shape her feet. Holding a fertility fish, she brings nourishment and breath to the Mexican Yucatán Peninsula where we walk softly the sacred land of our earthly existence.