I wanted that bean burrito
with warm refried beans
and mounds of sharp cheddar cheese oozing over them
I craved that bean burrito
topped with dollops of creamy white sourcream
and a handful of salty black olives
I stirred a small pot of warm the beans in mounting anticipation
proud of choosing to eat what my body seem to desire
glad that I possessed all the makings at hand
I pushed you away-
Because I needed that bean burrito…
Or did I?
I pulled out my block of Tillamock cheese,
and sliced off just a small piece to pop in my mouth
So salty and savory, so good!
But you returned-
Your large, sweet, deep brown eye
the eye that held the soul of the universe
piercing through decades of branding and conditioning
your eye found mine
Spanning oceans of culture and tradition
Soaring above mountains of corporate mind-rape
Slave holders, soldiers, prison guards- anyone that subjects another life knows…
AVOID THE EYE- do not make eye contact
But your eyes drew mine-
contact was made
And they were crying
Blazing yet another “Trail of Tears”
left in the wake
of human gluttony and apathy
My soul wrestled within as the skin of my hand held the block of cheese-
This was no longer simple; one by one my arguments were extinguished
in this historical river of tears…
The cheese was no longer a beautifully wrapped, sensual morsel of deliciousness;
but an ensign of participation- to partake of this simple pleasure
Was to remain in the battalion of apathy and gluttony-
Was to partake in inhumane treatment of life!
It was to refuse the eye that bore witness to inconceivable amount of suffering
I had looked into the eye with such helplessness and despair.
Amidst a multitude of people, smiling, laughing, intrigued
People roaming about in freedom
eating, drinking, enjoying entertainment and food to the full
Holding their sacred children near
Mothers nuzzling their babes at their breasts
offering the nourishment perfectly designed for them
All the while you were held in the tight confines of a small barred-in cell
a machine relentlessly tugging on your breasts
that were meant for your babies
The crowds jostled about in their merriment, gawking on, avoiding your eyes…
Were the tears that ran from your eyes and the desperate pleading gaze
effected by a surging pain from the machine?
Or by a broken heart of your lost infant?
Or, perhaps by both?
I could bear it no longer- the farm at the fair.
I could not set you free, and I could not watch you suffer.
So I left…
But you have not left me
Your eye, streaked with tears of sorrow, burn on in my soul.
I wanted that bean burrito…
or did I?
Perhaps all I really crave now, is a bowl of warm beans,
spiced with a little hot-sauce
topped with a few chopped onions
and to cry, for you, for me, for us…
for the eye that held the universe,
and spoke into my soul
of tragedy so monstrous
Born of deadened hearts
The eye has awakened me
Stay awake my soul!