Bastards!

-Miguel Nebrida, 2009

Look at them, their hair are all the same, Afro done like Jackson
I bet they're twins but too many. Five, six, seven of them?
They're there, here, and they leave traces everywhere
In fences, in the walls, in the chairs, in the cars,
There names are scribbled, even in your dreams.

Damn who are these guys, never seen quite like them
And they talked of "shits" and "bullshits"
Isn't that the same?

In the school they concregate, admired by girls
And they flirt with men too. Remarkable.
But they are straight guys, they drink, they squabble
And they fight with each other.

Can I join them. No my friend.
Why not. Not now my friend. Soon
When your time has come, but let them
The hippies of the mountains.

Stay

-Miguel Nebrida, 2009

As long as you want

in this place where generations

Come and go.

I've seen your fathers and forefathers

in storms they fought and

Overcome obstacles.

If you could only stay, a little longer

it wouldn't cost you more.

Just to see how I was going, you see

I'm drained

I'm exhausted

I'm withered, if you could only

Envelope me

I want you to stay...a little longer.

To the children

-Miguel Nebrida, 2009

Tiny feet of the sons and daughters
Hiked through the woods and rocky roads
Their smiles and giggles
Mingled with the buzz of bees
A symphony with the songs of birds.

Down the mountains and through the ranges
Rays of the waking suns collide
Shadows of mahoganies and
Dews in the foliage
Cries of creatures hanging from the trees.

Down through the plain and valleys
Lay the rocks and pebbles
Like toys for little hands and minds
Where beneath the golden ground
Were treasures of the Mines.

Tender feet of sons and daughters
Kissed the hands of foreign lands
Where giggles and laughters reigned, we
Sailed in the oceans, scattered in the sands
We were treasures of the Mines.