Spic | stevonluceroarchives

Progedy

Leaving their unresolved
hate on the shoulders
of another..always
another
But
There is no other!
Only one!
One!
Fom the beginning
to the end.
And all this?
Is this the end?
Or will the war
rage forever?

A silent tear
flows down a cold
Chicano's cheek.
"I want to dance!
I want to sing!
I want to be!
But
They won't let me...
they...them
those "other" people
those...others.
Other...But...
He thinks,
there is no "other"
There is only
One.
One...from
the beginning
to the beginning
of the
end...

As darkness descends,
a voice whispers
softly in his
left ear...

"Give it to the Lord"
"Give it to Christ."

Turning to face
the cool whisper
the voice became
an ancient flute
playing.
praying,
an ancient love song,
that sang of the beginning
and of the now.
And there before him
in the darkness
was a door...
and as he stepped in
he stepped out...
which distracted him...
momentarily...
until he realized
he was there
in the beginning...
there with his
ancestors.

"We have waited for you
a long time...
a very long time
although you have
yet to be born."

These were the first
voiceless words
he heard as this
new reality
became more than
merely real.

Surprised,
yet unafraid
the young uninvited
guest stepped into
a room filled with
love, love
in the shape of
men.
With still lips
They spoke with thoughts
made of their minds light.

"We have been waiting
for your return."

"My return?" he said

"Yes."

"My return..where was I?"
he asked

"In the future."

"Then...who am I?"

"You are
One of us.
You are us.
You are
our
return."

"Your What!?
Your return?"..calmer,
but in a quiet passion,
"Please...I don't understand
this whole thing...is....
is crazy..it makes no sense!
What does all this mean?
What do you mean...
I am...you!"

"Yes, you are
Our return.
You see,
what you are
is only half.
And...we are your
other.... half.
You have been
taught to put us
aside,
To justify our
sacrifice.
Our sacrifice saved
the world.
Our sacrifice was for
God.
In our death
life came to a
dying world.
A world that was
dying for the
Lord's curse
was upon them
for desecrating
his Son.
They perpetuated the
destuction of the
Lord's Word
while doing all
these evil things in
his name.

     But even so,
they too are the
children of God.
Wayward and lost
in their lust of
things...
Possesions of the
material world.
The world of illusions
which make themselves
real in the blood
of the innocent,
of the......
children.
     But even so,
they too are the
children of God.
Angered,
The Creator
demanded atonement.
Yes...
He demanded atonement.
And we in our innocence
became that atonement.
Atonement through sacrifice.
The flesh must be overcome.
Atonement for the wall
that self has put between
us and the Creator.
Atonement for the love
we forgot to give to each other.

And us for ourselves,
as close as we are
to the One,
the Lord,
We too were falling
into corruption.
So it was necessary
to offer ourselves up
in sacrifice,
to let the body die
so that the spirit
would live.
So that a new body
could be born.
A new body,
with strengths that come
only with new blood...
For racial incest
will weaken any nation,
no matter how proud
or self assured...
for vanity has not
the power to assure
survival.

You, young son,
are that new body.
And we are the other half,
The part of you that lives
in your dreams,
in your asperations,
in your future.
You are our assurance
of the future as we are
yours.
We are the magic
in your blood.
We are the other half
that makes you whole...
that makes you one.
Learn,
When eyes see as one
the body will be filled
with the creators light.
And when he beckons
you to dance...
Dance.
And when he beckons
you to sing...
Sing.
And when he beckons
you to Love...
Love."

As quietly and quickly
as it appeared, the vision
left.
leaving a young Chicano
who just heard
someone yell...
"Hey Spic!"
Slowly,
The young Chicano
turned to face his
oppressers,
but,
They drove away
quickly.
It wasn't just the smile,
that "kind" smile
that frightned them,
it was the way
his eyes glowed,
the way
they glowed..as the
sun rose
behind
him.

© 1980
Stevon Lucero

SPIC
Stepping into the twillight
of a setting sun
A young Chicano's journey
has just begun.
From the shadows
across the street
he hears a voice from a car
in the early evening heat

Hey Spic!

Startled,
He turns to face
This voice of hate
Which will call him
to the door of fate.
This voice of iniquity
Which ever serves the
delusion of superiority
makes him hide his fear
and clench his fists.
And with the enemy so near
he gets ready to fight
when suddenly they start
their car and tear off in fright.
Quickly the cowards flee
leaving their hate on the shoulders
of a man who's free
Leaving their hate upon another
Whose skin is brown
But is still their brother....