{"id":942,"date":"2015-11-25T02:03:27","date_gmt":"2015-11-25T02:03:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wsantosblog.com\/?p=942"},"modified":"2015-11-26T18:21:43","modified_gmt":"2015-11-26T18:21:43","slug":"to-the-colombian-woman-i-dont-know","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=942","title":{"rendered":"To The Colombian Woman I Don’t Know"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"colombian_woman\"<\/a><\/p>\n

she\u2019s old
\nand rotting quickly,
\neach wrinkle on
\nher silvery black face
\ntells tales of years
\nstacked upon years,
\ntears piled on tears
\njoy and pain
\ntoil and bitter rain<\/p>\n

but behind her dark
\nColombian folds
\ndrooped eye bags
\nash-gray prickly hair
\nshriveled lips crumbled
\nupon sour memories
\nand heavenly aged thoughts,
\nI see a beautiful woman I don\u2019t know
\nhappy to wake and dress
\nand brush her brittle grays
\na smile on rustic lips
\nas she drapes faded pearls
\nover slumped shoulders
\nadorning her leathery brown neck
\nwith jewels just like
\nrich white women wear up north.<\/p>\n

\u00a9Wilson Santos<\/p>\n

*I took this photo of this beautiful woman while on vacation in Colombia in 2013. She inspired this poem.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

she\u2019s old and rotting quickly, each wrinkle on her silvery black face tells tales of years stacked upon years, tears piled on tears joy and pain toil and bitter rain<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":37404269,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_seo_schema_type":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_wpcom_ai_launchpad_first_post":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[422],"tags":[21691,463260,20522,124,3785,1720,13705,1861871,620,35404,3786,563,2213393,4822,1857,349],"class_list":["post-942","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-colombia","tag-colombian","tag-latino","tag-life","tag-love","tag-poem","tag-poet","tag-poetry-2","tag-society","tag-spoken-word","tag-thinking","tag-thoughts","tag-wilson-santos","tag-words","tag-world","tag-writing"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2z1Px-fc","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":827,"url":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=827","url_meta":{"origin":942,"position":0},"title":"Portraits of Colombia","author":"Wilson Santos","date":"January 25, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Portraits of Colombia, a set on Flickr. I took these photos while on vacation in Medellin, Colombia in December 2013. This collection shows the diversity of the common Colombian. While on vacation, I encountered so many warm and welcoming people of different shades. I chose to make the photos all\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fotos"","block_context":{"text":"Fotos","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?cat=772"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":802,"url":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=802","url_meta":{"origin":942,"position":1},"title":"We Tug and Pull Each Other","author":"Wilson Santos","date":"November 18, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"We tug and pull each other There\u2019s never rest between The ropes we pull are bruising Sometimes they make us mean We never rest between The night and sun rising Sometimes we act so mean And yet we keep on climbing With night and sun rising We pass our days\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?cat=422"},"img":{"alt_text":"tug-o-war1","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wilsonsantos.blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/tug-o-war1.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":884,"url":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=884","url_meta":{"origin":942,"position":2},"title":"These Little Heart Murmurs","author":"Wilson Santos","date":"October 2, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"What sour sweetness fills the air? What mixed flavors spur these thoughts? What song moves us closer? What forces wedge in between? What plots? What counsel? What stench still lingers. But two crimson roses have yet to die with their delicate dry petals braving tempest rains and dessert dust against\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?cat=422"},"img":{"alt_text":"two roses","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wilsonsantos.blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/10\/two-roses.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":923,"url":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=923","url_meta":{"origin":942,"position":3},"title":"This is for the Feelers","author":"Wilson Santos","date":"June 5, 2015","format":false,"excerpt":"This is for the feelers The stealers The drug dealers The muthafuckin dope feigners The healers The freakers Runnin round naked like a streaker This is for the stripper The hipster The thinker The writer The fighter The all-nighter The actor acting The soul clapping The feet be tapping This\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?cat=422"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wilsonsantos.blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/5284768691_e242311c70_z.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wilsonsantos.blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/5284768691_e242311c70_z.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wilsonsantos.blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/5284768691_e242311c70_z.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":621,"url":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=621","url_meta":{"origin":942,"position":4},"title":"Like Winter Snow (2008)","author":"Wilson Santos","date":"March 1, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"Your love is cold like winter snow Emotions that never ripened What\u2019s in that dark heart no one knows Only that you seem frightened In aimless pride, you seem to hide behind those thick rose red lips What\u2019s really happening inside the reasons you can\u2019t move your hips The lack\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?cat=422"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":811,"url":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?p=811","url_meta":{"origin":942,"position":5},"title":"I Remember What My Father Told Me","author":"Wilson Santos","date":"November 22, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"I remember what my father told me: There\u2019s only one thing I\u2019ll take with me, all my women and their memories But I knew he\u2019d take more than just that. Only one thing he\u2019ll take with him; what about me, my brothers and sisters? I knew he\u2019d take more than\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/?cat=422"},"img":{"alt_text":"graveyard","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wilsonsantos.blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/graveyard.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/942","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/37404269"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=942"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/942\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":948,"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/942\/revisions\/948"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=942"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=942"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wilsonsantos.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=942"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}