La Estrella del Mar; or, Mother of Exiles

Last updated on: August 5, 2019 at 2:30 pm by Gabriel Blanchard

La Estrella del Mar; or, Mother of Exiles 2019-08-05T14:30:17-04:00 Gabriel Blanchard

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Trucks rumble—the hustle and the hum
Of gears gas engine exhaust choke POTHOLE and there’s a cut on the forehead,

Red over the white frightened eyes in the dark.
She bends down over POTHOLE her baby
And she knows what’s coming next but it hasn’t happened yet,
So she cradles and coos and tries not to think
About the kennel they’ll put her son in,
With the chainlink door and the concrete floor and the ugly foil blanket made for an alien.
And the dry road south is all sand sand sand POTHOLE sand,
Back down to Sinaloa, the land of the rattlesnake,
Sand in the hair the mouth the eyes, like an itching thirsting disease.

Turn your bodies against the drums, boys:
It’s I.C.E., it’s the Committee of Public Saftey,
It’s Herod and he means it this time.

The trucks aren’t full of people.
They’re full of MS13 monsters like her,
They’re full of sluts who wouldn’t get an abortion like her,
They’re full of cost-benefit ratios like her,
They’re full of huddled masses like her,
They’re full of not our problems like her.
But her eyes are two thousand years old
And the message of the angel still shines out of them
The mystery the plea the glory the warning
That this is an ikon of the all-consuming Fire.
What will you do when that Fire falls on you?

Turn your bodies against the drums, boys:
It’s I.C.E., it’s the Committee of Public Saftey,
It’s Herod and he means it this time.

So pick up your ploughshares and your pruning hooks,
This is no time for passivity, it’s time for pacifisticuffs:
If what you want is peace then go be peace’s power,
Lift up your voice, your open hands to that White Tower
And cover it with brown sand.
Hate burns white-hot—don’t be fooled by its easy appeal:
Love is brown like earth and wood and dried blood and Jewish skin
And the eyes of the baby that pilgrim woman is holding for the last time.
Call on the mountains to fall on us, the hills to hide us,
For their earth is full of love
And perhaps thus we shall learn to love our brother.

Turn your bodies against the drums, boys:
It’s I.C.E., it’s the Committee of Public Saftey,
It’s Herod and he too will die.

poems

Previous Post

July 31, 2019

Gender Jamboree, Part Four

Next Post

August 5, 2019 Gender Jamboree, Part Five

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abuse antifascism art bad Catholic celibacy chastity Church crucifixion culture war eros forgiveness gay gender homophobia ikons language liturgy peace poems politics Pope Francis prayer pro-life race recommendations reform repentance review sacraments saints satire scandal schism scripture sex suffering theology Uncategorized violence

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

True or False: The book of Psalms contains exactly 100 psalms.

Select your answer to see how you score.

FALSE TRUE