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Georg E Mateos

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Member Since: Dec, 2005

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AMERICA...where are thou?
by Georg E Mateos

Sunday, November 04, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
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           >> View all 785

Norman Rockwell showed us the way, if only we had kept going that road...
Piece by piece, like worms on leafs we have been eating America bite by bite trying to fill a bottomless stomach.
If you invent a time machine, please, send me back to that innocent, idealistic and pioneer America...

The sun goes down on a silent prairie
until a coyote decide begin to howl
its hunger discontent to the night
and most particularly to the moon.

The saguaros unruly army spreading
their ranks of the desert all around
with arms raised to the darkening sky
like green giants being in a hold-up.

Silence that preclude coming dreams,
wild horses with a black leader stallion
should not run and be quiet at night, or
they will break a leg in a prairie-dog’s hole.

The scent of coffee will assault nostrils
long before, of the fire smell, the smoke,
as the last heifer was rounded for the day,
from the saddle down comes the cowboy.

A little round circle of fire the men made
the bacon fried as they heard the wolf
telling the intruders not to get too comfy
because they were in the neck of his world.

Night couldn’t be without a cricket’s chorus,
a lullaby for tired horsemen, a dreams call,
needing to be alert for the angry indians
after some greedy fools killed their bison.

Morning came without Geronimo’s brothers
but with the Iron Horse in the distance voice,
soon the prairie will be empty of indians,
and the cowboys will have a job no more.

America, sweet America where are you now?
the land that Norman Rockwell so well drew,
with the simplicity of God loving souls that
when growing up was the America that I knew.

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Reviewed by Kathy Armijo 11/8/2007
You bring back memories of my youth [late 40s, into the 50s and 60s]. A time when designer clothes were not the focus of small children, where your door was left unlocked at night, the keys left in the ignition of the car, and you always knew where your children were. Money was tight, but it will always be tight. Children respected their elders or got a swift boot. We took care of each other. We shared. We knew the true meaning of Christmas.
Sheish, I didn't mean to get carried away, but thanks for the poem and giving me an opportunity to say my piece.

God bless you. Kathy
Reviewed by Randall Barfield 11/4/2007
You evoke many wonderful images. I wouldn't say innocent, however. You know, Jesse James, etc.
Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU 11/4/2007
Let the bells of time sing!

"AMERICA...where are thou?" HOW LONG WILL YOU ALLOW THOSE VIOLATORS OF YOUR CONSTITUTION TO TURN YOU INTO A SLAVEYARD? How long will Your citizenry clap hands for the industrialists of war that control the OVAL OFFICE and the CONGRESS?

"AMERICA...where are thou?" sings to life and good sense.

In admiration,

Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader) 11/4/2007
Life is just waaaaay to easy, men need to be men again and women need to be (brought back here again) lol

Powerful, where is the true grit in America, I have seen it in over 25 years of nipping over there... WOMEN, they have taken it, where the men are pussy footing around, I noticed on airforce bases, homes and every where it is the women who keep the county going. It would not surprise us if a woman became president at some point, men have lost there wild heart spirit, yet man your women rock!!!
Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER 11/4/2007
Poignant nostalgic write George, but lets hang on to what there still is with both hands! Best wishes and Blessings! Jasmin Horst
Reviewed by Ann Scarborough 11/4/2007
Sad and poignant write Georg! Love this!
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 11/4/2007

Gone the way of the Bison...sad. Excellent write.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Southern Comfort 11/4/2007
So beautiful and touching, Sexy Daddy! I adore you and yore awesome poetry! LOVE YOU! SC
Reviewed by Walt Hardester 11/4/2007
Norman Rockwell would be spinning in his grave if he could see us today.

Reviewed by Felix Perry 11/4/2007
It is sad that progress often robs us of all the things we love so much without us even seeing them going or having a chance to say goodbye properly.

Reviewed by Christine Alwin 11/4/2007
Reading this outstanding poem took me right there around that campfire,, so peacful,,,,,I think only this poem will take us back as sadly reality will not.
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 11/4/2007
Beautiful writing sweet man,stay safe and well OK..Hugsssss
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 11/4/2007
One can only wonder. God help us!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
Reviewed by Mr. Ed 11/4/2007
America, sweet America where are you now?

So very sadly mired in concrete, plastic, steel, and greed. And if you find that Time Machine, please swing by and pick me up, brother. I'd love to go back about 200 years, when America must have been something truly wondrous to behold.
Reviewed by jude forese 11/4/2007
finely constructed poem on the nature of the American past ... the title is a bit familiar ;)
Reviewed by Joyce Bowling 11/4/2007
A beautiful write my friend, nostalgic with a sentimental feeling, well done...enjoyed!
Joyce B.
Reviewed by George Carroll 11/4/2007
Composed with the brilliance of a true poet longing for the Country that will be no more.
Reviewed by William Bonilla 11/4/2007
Thank You Brother Georg
for this wonderful history of the long ago
and lost American, which will never be recaptured
Only in out dream, The bison are gone for ever
now waiting for the hunters of yesteryears,
in their happy hunting grounds.

The calvery lives now only in dreams
Of what some young child wish he could have been
The wild mustangs are now hunted for dog meat
and gourmet food over seas.

Only the Rockwell Painting remain
in private collections and museum
Peace be with you Brother
***** Geronimo Has always been "My Hero" *****
The goevrnment of yesteryear send an army of 5000 troops
Into the deserts of The United States And Mexico
on a search and distroy mission
To force the return of him and a rag time
Heroic band of warriors (approx. 172 mand women and children)
to his degrading Reservation of then and now.
Reviewed by Rose Rideout 11/4/2007
Georg there are a good many people asking that same question, so many things have changed in time and Norman Rockwell knew how to saver it. Thank you for sharing it well.

Newfie Hugs, Rose

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