Mexico and the U.S. are bound not only because of the common border, but by a shared culture and history.
quote by Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art of Border
It could be a shield, it could be a cage
The safety sealant, the tying trap
The filter line, the block wall
Border, border, border
The sacred culture, the love crossing
The moral limit, the emotion frame
The rule control, the life permission
Border, border, border
The friction fight, the freedom cut
The bond mark, the fence crack
The counter side, the edge of touch
Border, border, border
Can you keep it as promise
Can you bridge it by hope
The song from deserted corner
Border, border, border
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bringing It Back
Thirty days have September
In a jailhouse I remember
Well, I got caught with too much soul
Bringing it back from Mexico
Bringing it back from Mexico
Spanish lights and pretty faces
Trip you out to where the place is
Load you up and let you go
Bringing it back from Mexico
Bringing it back from Mexico
Across the border is where you'll get her
And when it's good there ain't no better
I think I'll get me some to go
A-brining it back from Mexico
Bringing it back from Mexico
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Refried Dreams
(jim foster/mark peterson)
(track 7 - time 2:46)
Last monday mornin you left with no warnin
I started goin insane
Well I headed south out of del rio, texas
With a hell of a load on my brain I kept on goin without even knowin
How much your love really means now Im messed up in mexico
Livin on refried dreams
Im down here in mexico sick as a dog
My head is poundin in this border town fog
Down to my last dime and comin apart at the seams
Im messed up in mexico
Livin on refried dreams
This picture aint pretty Im ragged and dirty
And wonderin what Im doin here
Shootin tequila wantin to kill ya
And wishin to God you were near
So full of your memory but feelin so empty
Ive run out of my self-esteem
Now Im messed up in mexico
Livin on refried dreams
Im down here in mexico sick as a dog
My head is poundin in this border town fog
Down to my last dime and comin apart at the seams
Im messed up in mexico
Livin on refried dreams
Im down here in mexico sick as a dog
My head is poundin in this border town fog
Down to my last dime and comin apart at the seams
Im messed up in mexico
Livin on refried dreams
Oh Im messed up in mexico
Livin on refried dreams
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Mexico
(written by michael g. joyce, irene kelley)
Im catchin this south bound train
Ive had enough of the pouring rain
Chilled to the bone, I have to go
Love was never a friend of mine
The only friend that I have is time
Its down the track, aint lookin back
Mexico, o mexico
I long to see your border town
Mexico, o mexico
Adios mi corazon
The cars are clickin the night along
But all I hear is a heartbreak song
Haunting me, relentlessly
Come the morning and I will stand
On the banks of the rio grande
A brand new day, wash those tears away
Theres nothin like the feel
Of the steel against the steel
And you cant forget the crying of the rail
Theres nothin like the sight
Of a moonlit desert night
To heal a broken heart that was so frail
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On my recent trip to the Mexico border, Border Patrol agents in California told me they have arrested the same coyotes 20 times, but they are not prosecuted.
quote by Ric Keller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better than anything else in our culture, it enables fathers and sons to speak on a level playing field while building up from within a personal history of shared experience - a group history - that may be tapped into at will in years to come.
quote by John Thorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mexico
(words & music by tepper,bennett)
Mexico, mexico
Theyve got muchas, mucha-chas, amigos
...latin features,never saw such adorable creatures
...love to dig, ooh...the nights here
We live it up and love it up amigo
Life begins when youre in mexico
You never order, water
When you order south of the border
...in to kiss a lovely senorita
Ooh.. the samba, la bamba
...Ill go where you go
Life begins when youre in mexico
Mexico, mexico
Theyve got muchas mucha-chas, amigos
...never saw such adorable creatures
Well live it up and love it up amigo
Life begins...when youre in...mexico...
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But last year there were 540,000 people, roughly, detained coming across the border illegally. Forty-five thousand of them came from countries other than Mexico, demonstrating the fact that Mexico itself now is a pathway into the United States for people all around the world, and we don't know what their intentions are.
quote by John Cornyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghana's Most Beautiful
When drums are head
when beads on the ankle rattle
when flute gives it traditional rhythm
one thing comes in mind, the lives of our fathers
the rhythm of their heart beat.
Their quest for unity. We display them
We are Ghana's most beautiful
the eyes of our region.
We represent our culture and the beauty of
Ghanaians.
Our culture and hospitality makes alien natives
of our land
we are Ghana's most beautiful.
We are women of diverse culture
but common history.
We use beauty to promote unity
we use beauty to discourage conflict.
We use beauty to tell you, your history.
We are Ghana's most beautiful
the eyes of our society.
poem by Lovett Listowell
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Day of the Refugios
In Mexico and Latin America, celebrating one's
Saint's day instead of one's birthday is common.
I was born in Nogales, Arizona,
On the border between
Mexico and the United States.
The places in between places
They are like little countries
Themselves, with their own holidays
Taken a little from everywhere.
My Fourth of July is from childhood,
Childhood itself a kind of country, too.
It's a place that's far from me now,
A place I'd like to visit again.
The Fourth of July takes me there.
In that childhood place and border place
The Fourth of July, like everything else,
It meant more than just one thing.
In the United States the Fourth of July
It was the United States.
In Mexico it was the día de los Refugios,
The saint's day of people named Refugio.
I come from a family of people with names,
Real names, not-afraid names, with colors
Like the fireworks: Refugio,
Margarito, Matilde, Alvaro, Consuelo,
Humberto, Olga, Celina, Gilberto.
Names that take a moment to say,
Names you have to practice.
These were the names of saints, serious ones,
And it was right to take a moment with them.
I guess that's what my family thought.
The connection to saints was strong:
Mu grandmother's name--here it comes--
Her name was Refugio,
And my great-grandmother's name was Refugio,
And my mother-in-law's name now,
It's another Refugio, Refugios everywhere,
Refugios and shrimp cocktails and sodas.
Fourth of July was a birthday party
For all the women in my family
Going way back, a party
For everything Mexico, where they came from,
For the other words and the green
Tinted glasses my great-grandmother wore.
These women were me,
What I was before me,
So that birthday fireworks in the evening,
All for them,
This seemed right.
In that way the fireworks were for me, too.
Still, we were in the United States now,
And the Fourth of July,
Well, it was the Fourth of July.
But just what that meant,
In this border place and time,
it was a matter of opinion in my family.
poem by Alberto Ríos
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Thats Why God Made Mexico
Margie said, roy you aint listening to me
And Ive got a whole lot more to say
Roy just crossed the floor and picked up his car keys
And she aint seen or heard from him to this day
And thats why God made mexico
A place where we can lay low
And the cuervo goes down nice and slow
And the warm wind blows
Thats why God made mexico
And betty fixed joe dinner every night
At half past six
Cause thats when he rolled through that door
For sixteen years and not a thank you from his lips
She dont fix him dinner no more
And thats why God made mexico
A place where we can lay low
Where the cuervo goes down nice and slow
And the warm winds blow
Thats why God made mexico
Cause life is sweet in a border town
You learn to let your hair down
And you dont make trouble
You learn to dance the fandango
You change your name, maybe change your face
Get used to beans chili paste
And you learn to live and love
Life in the slow lane
And thats why God made mexico
A place where we can lay low
Maybe monterey or acapulco
Anywhere the warm winds blow
Dont you know
Thats why God made mexico
Thats why God made
Made mexico
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Culture Forgotten
In a gringo society
Chicanos thrive
culture changing
as we try to survive
the vatos in the calles
kill our own kind
our culture we can't find
Aztec ancestors
Spanish savages
the blood of warriors
but our native tongue is tied
family from mexico, access denied
a fence divides
we act out in aggression
now la raza has tension
tattoos with meaning unknown
ignorance is whats really shown
our culture is lost
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Racism and the Culture Of Racism
We must be aware…..,
Of the Culture Of Racism….,
It’s a slur and a swear….,
The Culture Of Racism….! ! !
Can’t turn your back….,
On the Culture Of Racism….,
Or you’ll feel the whack…,
Of the Culture Of Racism….! ! !
It’s hard to believe….
The Culture Of Racism….,
That’s why we all grieve….,
The Culture Of Racism…! ! !
We must face the facts….,
On the Culture Of Racism ….! ! !
Cause we’ve seen the attacks…..,
Of the Culture Of Racism….,
It follows us all…,
The Culture Of Racism….,
But we must stand tall….,
Against the Culture Of Racism….! ! !
Can we control or stop it….,
As long as it’s been livin’….? ? ?
That’s the priceless question….,
On the Culture Of Racism…! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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The Richness Of India
THE RICHNESS OF INDIA
it may be the sculptures
it may be it's scriptures
it may be it's culture
the sculptures are there
stone hard
come and have a look
the scriptures are there
book bound
come and read
the culture is there
man bound
come and find
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Desperation Samba
Desperation samba (halloween in tijuana)
By: jimmy buffett, will jennings, timothy b. schmit
1985
This song brings to mind two things. first, an image of robert mitchum
Standing in the doorway of a bar in tijuana, and second, a line by
Thomas mcguane, my brother-in-law, from his book, panama,
"the night wrote a check the morning couldn't cash."
- used by permission of author
Halloween in tijuana
Full moon in my eyes
I wonder how in the hell i got here
Without a disguise
Should i take this last step
Or turn myself around
Or follow my intuition into that border town
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico [i want to dance in mexico]
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos [...with our friends]
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
Pretty girls they beckon
From their rooms above
Skeletons are dancing
In the name of love
Don't know where i'm goin'
I don't like where i've been
There may be no exit
But hell i'm going in
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
I hear the people singing that same old haunting tune
I drink because i know it's me against the moon
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
-- spoken:
"tss, tss tss"
"hey, psst amigo!"
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
Yo quiero a bailar en mexico
We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
- notes:
Background vocals: timothy b. schmit, harry stinson
Featuring reggie young on gut string guitar and
Harrison ford on the bullwhip
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Siblings Are Friends You Just Can't Get Rid Of
Siblings are enemies you cannot escape
Bound by blood
Bound by history
You know the real me
What's behind the mask I wear for others to see
Shared parents and vacations, and long Sunday drives
You always got the window seat ‘cause you got car sick - yeah right!
We shared a dinner table and breakfast...and bad manners too
A shared room, a shared mess, a shared bed, (the wetting was you)
We made mud pies together, and ate them, (or at least we tasted)
You gave me measles. I gave you mumps. (Those fevers truly sucked)
We nursed one another's heartbreaks
We dried each other's tears
We yelled and screamed, you said you hated me
You're a day person. I'm a night
You wanted to be early but I made you late
We became adults together
Buried our parents side-by-side
I hurt your feelings. You made me angry
We were callous and mean without even thinking
You weren't my friend, just a sibling, biologically speaking
Just someone I'm stuck with who lives down the hall
Or in the next town, or the far side of the planet....that's all
I didn't choose you, you know
And you would never have picked me
We only share parents
And some, (well a lot) , of memories
And a hometown, and I guess a private joke or two
I don't have to like you just because of those things, true?
But others in the family keep dragging us back together
Christmas lunch, family picnics, if I could stay home I'd rather
Then I forget what you did
You forget what I said
So we hug and we cry
It's been so long. Why?
We're just friends, (bound by blood) , that we just can't get rid of
Nor would we want to
Because....what in this world would I do
If ever I had to live my life without you
poem by DonnaJ York
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The History of Sistery
Born just a year apart
A gorgeous green eyed toad;
A beautiful blue eyed tart
They spoke tongues of
Mexico, Spain and Brazil
Little smiling, loving faces
I can see them still
Then fate took control
Good fortune for me
Love second time round
Changed the duo to three
This history of sistery
Is no mystery at all
It’s a glorious union
Since love once more came to call
Three sisters now bound together
Though with separate lives and loves
Looking to make history of the future
Is this sistery of awesome doves
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Song: Popular Culture
Oh I'm sick to death of spin,
And this banal, self-serving sin,
That justifies usurpation like a king.
When shove will come to push,
Weilding power without blush,
This vigilante State is so right-wing!
Pop, pop, popular history,
Grows a crop of myth and mystery,
Where legends reap the cynical flattery,
That maintains the lie:
Of who we are,
What we've become,
In whose name,
Was violence done;
Of why we're here,
And how we came.
Who's excused,
And who's to blame.
Of where we're going,
And where we're from;
And what we're doing,
To right the wrongs...
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Does it diminish or exalt ya?
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Is it Art or just sheer torture?
Pop, pop, popular culture;
Soporific by it's nature,
From mediocre to bad.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Confers on all a bland inertia,
Embracing every fad:
Of how we look,
The way we feel;
What is image,
And what is real.
Of what to eat,
And what to wear;
How best to cheat,
Or how to care.
The puzzle of love,
The seizures of hate;
How best to survive,
The quirks of cruel fate.
The rule of the stars,
Or the lives of the great;
Hints from the famous,
To grow and create...
Pop, pop, popular culture.
What you love, and what insults ya.
Pop, pop, popular culture.
What you hate, and what co-opts ya.
Oh I'm bored to bits by cant.
And all that ritualised behaviour,
The patriotic fervour,
That is the flavour of the year.
To my cups I'll so decant,
For from high the view is clear:
The world below is idiot,
The age of farce is here!
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Selling slops of dizzy rapture.
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Nurtures minds to easy capture:
What could be wrong,
What could be right,
When a little change,
Inspires a fight,
For what we think,
Or how we live,
Should we repent,
More than we give?
Can our actions
Be so believed,
When some are censured,
And some reprieved..?
Pop, pop, popular history,
Scuttles verity in a lonely estuary,
And sinks the well of common fallacy:
That heroes never die!
Pop, pop, popular history,
Expels reality to forbidden territory,
And absurdly plays tragedy,
As a slick slapstick comedy,
To entertain the lie:
Of who we are,
What we've become,
In whose name,
Was violence done;
Of why we're here,
And how we came.
Who's excused,
And who's to blame.
Of where we're going,
And where we're from;
And what we're doing,
To right the wrongs...
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Pulls out all stops to pimp and pander.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Dead of meaning, truth or candour.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Where vultures feed on lies and slander.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
The carrion flesh that's propaganda!
poem by Dave SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fences would be a hindrance to terrorists should they decide to come across a land border between the U.S. and Mexico and to California.
quote by Duncan Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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