“Mesoamerica”

Mesoamerica

an area spanning from central Mexico
to Honduras and Nicaragua
encompassing diverse
civilizations of the
pre-Columbian era

what did those cultural entities do
is what i wonder about when i read
generic definitions as the one above
what were the landmarks of distinction
of this region’s “flourished” civilizations?

like we, they too were no doubt divided by language
religion, social class, economics and politics
how did they cope with those divides
is to me the must-be-asked question
did they ever quest for peace?

do we, in full reality, quest for peace?
if so, why then do we not have it yet?
what can i alone, we together, strive
to achieve a stronghold on that too
slippery road of our differences?

their faith was in multitudes
as were their tongues
not any different,
the rest of their
construct

we are looking at ourselves
in the same inexorable mirror
and do not see what we actually are:
bones, joints, flesh, hair and organs inside
all of which we all will have left for the other side . . .

© hülya n. yılmaz, December 30, 2018

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This poem will be published by Inner Child Press International in the February 2019 issue of The Year of the Poet VI.

2 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Reflections

2 responses to ““Mesoamerica”

  1. did i tell you today how awesome you are ?

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  2. Like we, they too were divided, and yes by all the so-called cultural or asocial idiosyncrasies by the imposed leaders, man made gods, dictators, power-mongers, governors or kings, pick your poison as to the rubric for these self-servers positions of power over mankind’s average human. Then you will have in part answered the question of your poem’s third strophe, as to whether or not they asked for peace, for which man still cries out today, to held lords.
    As Samuel Beckett, the Irish poet and novelist said and I quote, “words are all we have”. So I ask, so far what has man attained armed words, against the power of the lords of greed that leads to the state of what is imposed on we average humans. Again I quote Beckett, “Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness”, I can but suppose, the held state of whom you refer to, will fall on the ears of they who abide undeterred by the stain of their silence and nothingness!

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