We receive new names

The first time I heard my name turn into summer,
dropping the vowels and extending with breath the nights
I let them, new names can bring better fortune to old spirits
What's a letter or two dropped?

I have made it this far, my name will be a medal on my chest

it was the same with the sky, a few days later,
supposedly similar everywhere; clouds and stars
but not clear, our skies were flooded with birds and sonorous machines
chirp, boom, chirp, boom, our songs
when others were caught the noise I thought about the birds,
who shelters them?

Man is the only bird able to decide when to install new wings, my mother once said

I did not have wings, or a face that was covered
or uncovered. I did not have features: pale skin, light blue eyes
I had hazel eyes, olive-skin and a twisted tongue that operates
by virtue of a twisted heart, from eating too many stolen lemons as a child

but this is a grandmother's tale, a lie

there are no hills in this city, no mountains to protect land from sandstorms
just plains, with incredible letters and wheat to cover for my inability
to love them the way I loved the mountains with rumble, force
with the knowledge that there are an infinite number of places to hide
unimaginable things to go seek

but once you love these plains, you will learn to love your name

We receive new names

it will take so long to realize
soon, land too will receive a new name;
words that will disband the earth into pieces
territories, zones, areas, marker-lines [ with the suffixes pre and post to scratch the soil]
then the streets will be renamed with names the color of blood

this was a Kingdom with no king, but with dynamite, who decides?

those who speak, those who draw and those who sleep
without opening their mouths to swallow bits of the night
silence comes, alone

even my own mother doesn't say much these days

Give me a new name or take it back, no use
give my mother better words to express her anger
or my father newer hands, my little brother lighter skin
but leave me to pronounce error-free the letters I chose
in the language I dream in, probably not your own
a mistake is easy, but time is difficult
it will allow people to collect and clean
go and return to the same grounds,
land that leaves us severed, with lemon-hearts
places we still adore
but in the meantime, I wonder
who will have time to pick up our old, real names from the debris, now that we've left it behind?