DIARY OF A GECKO
San Francisco to Havana prose poem memoir
November 8-16, 2000
Dedicated to the Cuban Workers' Confederacion,
SEIU 707 General Manager, Michael Allen, Staff
and Board participants, Jeff Kolin, City
Manager of Santa Rosa and Robert Dunlavey,
Director of Parking & Transit, City of Santa Rosa.
11.17.2000 Noh Gallery, Santa Rosa
By John C. Morrison
President, SEIU707
INTRODUCTION.
This is a autobiographical prose poem written on the spot,
whether hotel, bar, conference chamber, taxi, jet, beach
for authentic impressions, reflections as a City and Labor
representative. All opinions are mine and are an attempt to
assess another cultures' people and politics by their own
standards and then by my interaction as an individual within
a group's purpose. The timeline is November 8-16th, 2000.
Rather historic for Americans with no clear presidential elect
and the attempt and plan to assasinate Fidel Castro in Panama
with the alleged conspirators in custody as of this date,
11.22.2000. Sad anniversary of President Kennedy's assasination.
Again, my appreciation to the U.S./Cuban Labor Exchange
and to SEIU707 and my beloved City of Santa Rosa for the
opportunity.
* * *
......."on the polished limestone floor
a gecko poses realizador,
ask him the reason behind his look
recruit characters for the book......."
11.8.2000
1.The richest nation
too expensive for the planet,
high ideals; democrats loose,
republicans start the
machine of de-evolution.
Senior citizens now wonder
and feel insecure.
International politics will
be more severe. National
freedoms at risk, corporate fist.
2.Green Party miscalculation-
vote yr conscience split the
Gore vote, let Bush fascism
on planetary wall street
flesh prevail. The voters
speak, but what have
they heard from history
or the elders' boneyard?
We Democrats wait for the
attack on the right to choose.
3. The right to plea for
justice, equality, planning
for the future of the earth
and its diversity. A new
party must be built or
everything the founding fathers
fought for will perish.
The Constitutin and Bill of
Rights is our real flag.
All beware of the change.
4.The jets roar past midnight
November constellations.
We are stunned in defeat.
Railroad winter rumbles past,
the resistance has begun.
El Rancho Hotel,
pink fascade, balconies,
spanish tile in Millbrae
west of the SF Airport. Off
to Cancun Mexico, then Havana.
5.To be a revolutionary
will be obvious as getting up
to go to work. Build dreams,
share them, test them, then
back again to fight, carefully.
What do we fight for
what do we die for
what do we hope for;
justice, love, social equity,
clean water, air, tender earth.
6.HUSTON, CANCUN
Airports generate their own
self-serving culture of flight,
services, thousands passing thru
to destiny's fable,
illumination, slavery & freedom.
The earth holds all history of
star-making and default
mountain landscape, but oh the
geology of clouds at 37,000 feet,
white mesas, rivers, plateaus of ivory...
7. fabricated in air
and other landscope poets,
politicians, lovers, fly
over on the Tao to Cancun
trumpet lagoon resort,
international hotels,
graffitti buses at five pesos
speeding, true hospitality
and food to make your stay
come back again.
11.9.2000 1am Cancun
8.Whoever wins Florida
wins the presidency. We
wait, hover over the earth
or by Caribean breezes
blowing strong the worker's fate.
After two margaritas, grounding
momentum, board members' humor
and food, the trumpet tells the
story of all people wanting
liberty, wealth, love, respect.
9.Moorish spanish tile
6th floor room on the
gulf of Mexico, the toilet
didn't flush, no water, another
labor patriot on the bed.
Well, things changed
real quick with graciousness,
tact, money and the
midnight burning for a
swim in the pool facing Cuba.
10.My room of three beds
for the married folk-
Cancun Condominios.
Only good gecko is one who
prays honoring electric tongues.
11.Moon up, waves crashing
everything warm and sexy.
The beat folds into itself.
The sun is on the otherside
of the planet, wondering.
12.Blazing gold orange sun
behind the drapes- wakeup
alone and zero location.
Awake deaf seeing the gecko.
13.Cancun, resort always in
repair, part splendor and
concealed squalor. White & torquoise
beaches, hands of labor and
catching stretching the dollar.
14.Over the Gulf of Mexico,
Gulf Stream winding
its special course and weather,
thru island clouds green and
brown land appears, Cuba.
15.Old Havana in disrepair and
under construction, charm of
centuries and style. Bullet holes
in concrete. Ravens fly above the
sci-fi Revolutionary Memorial tower.
16.Michael, jester of justice,
Maria, let's get it straight,
Sue, balances the sweet & bitter
Lee, mixes the flow of photons
Jean, ponders fact & fancy
John, tags himself. A fine
adventure of souls.
Union of milliseconds.
17.Old Havana dawn;
gold grey etched streets slowly
auditioning foottraffic, dogs scrounging,
American Unionists taking
psychic photos strobique of
decayed history, colonial times,
high iron balconies, 1880s, 1920s, 30s
thru mod Mafia 50s, monuments of
splendor and palcial poverty of empire.
18.Sweet vegas cigarette
top floor 10pm CTC
Cuban Federacion Workers' Hotel,
Musica Caribean never stops- sky
scraper grey rosa old tv antennas.
End the blocade. Tell Miami
Mafia they can't return.
Start trade, bring the gem
of the gulfstream, back, restored.
19.The courage and beauty of the island
of many interests, vive Cuba,
the young and striving, the old
maintain the flow of bravery.
Che is alive, Fidel guides.
This is still the playland by the
sea, fresh fish, necessitated labor,
but inequality comes back to the
economy. Healthcare & Education
for the people is maintained.
Everyone shares the cost. The cost
is high, embargo inflicted. Young children
give a kiss on the Melecon, une dollar
before lighthouse and El Morro castle.
20.Dolphinheads ornament the roof
of Hotel Nacional de Cuba,
grand charm, mercedes taxis,
roman statues and marble steps, brass
fixtured interior. Opposite, Ravens swarm beneath
the sun atop high 20 storied apartment.
2nd annual World Conference in
Havana, 103 nations represented.
We delegates ask questions, get answers,
the assembly is gracious and proud.
Cuba will resist domination.
We Americanos of Labor realize
the power which obstructs the right
to organize is the same power
which seeks control of all trade,
all livelihood of working people.
On the outside of a dalipidated
apartment building, rusty iron,
torntile concrete & crushed shells
above the sad joyful streets,
hangs a potted aloe vera plant.
5:50pm CTC Hotel, Vertudes & Manrique' 11.10.2000
21.The hotel lights
go on, the high clouds
kerchief pink ride the
pale sky, fullmoon obscured.
Dark eyes of havana
look deep into your soul-
the women dressed to kill or
walking from school, petite flowers,
natural beauty of freedom
in the swing of hips and the
quick bright smile, ahhhh.
22.Emerald gold taurus fullmoon
over Havana. Remember Cuba
says the smiling warm black woman,
heart over heart. What is
security, government, society?
At the Palace of Conventions
earphone translations. Free press,
internet connections, beyond propaganda,
testimonials Venezuela to Cyprus to
Palestine. Declarations, accusations.
23.Terminal Sierra Maestra
SanFrancisco- buses, horse
carriages for hire. Torquoise brown cream
windows. Convento de SanFrancisco
cobblestone plaza. Tables of
open air tourista de Havana.
Pina Coladas feathered pineapple.
I'm having an espresso. Cannonball
historiado. 6 story Radio Havana,
El Mercurio window glass below.
24.The government provides free healthcare,
education, a stipend for food
and free housing. What is old decays
to pieces or is repaired again. Everywhere time
is broken and rearranged and framed.
25.Papa's Bar. Hotel Ambos Mundos-
Photos of Fidel and Hemingway,
marlin festival. Che' smiling debonaire
smoking cigar. Papa having a drink.
The piano plays, darkwood high shutters
open to the egyptian wall street. Class
is here. Diplomats, officials of Havana and
wives, children, family, Union Radicals
around the table, talking international,
listening to a spontaneous Italian tenor.
26.No culture is the best.
No culture breeds in a vacuum.
Cuba demands freedom,
Cuba is rich in History-
Cuba has unfortunate merchandise poverty,
but here the country
has identity and an unbeatable
spirit to improvise in clear
deep water with green angels
atop mortified shoulders
carrying the weight of ideals,
the heated undying salsa
and promise of burning love.
The music never stops,
Havana moves within itself
avoiding a headon collision.
When the Embargo ends, tourism
hits Cuba, money pours in with
all the dual enterprise and the
distractions money can buy....
What then Children of Fidel?
27.The Old pass on the knowledge
the Young rebel against,
Children pay for the future
instruction by the best.
Discipline and laziness Compete.
Memory gives me place
and catalogues the present.
Monet on the afternoon waves.
Hermit crab scrambles in
rusted surf beach rubble.
28.Loose time gain time.
Fradulent elections, selling
of Democracy, the key fits the
lock of ages. America commits
suicide via greed & arrogance.
Become proud and beautiful
America. Let Liberty dance
amongst olive branches and
polished swords. Let the Eagle
fly and gain bright vision.
29.Caretaker of the Cemetary
worries about world war.
He visited his wife each day
and speaks softly about
hunger and lonely old age.
Whomever shall lead the people
by example must feed,
educate, provide the society by
which all prosper and punish
practicing politic banditry.
30.China at the threshold.
Europe maintains the rest.
Mideast fights the gods.
South America sells the land.
Africa cannot decide.
India too old and angry,
Southeast Asia devours adolescence.
Mexico gold-bypass-surgery,
computer farm vineyard
workers smoking cannabis to
relieve stress and suffering.
Trains connect coastal dream
glass engineered cities and
poets snore at midnight to
ninja jazz saxophone players.
31.Trellis arbor violet flowers
of songs forgotten, Palace de
Arms, atop tiled floor overlooking
El Morro Castle, Havana Harbor;
baked asphalt glass spanish-
32.clothesline bluegulf horizon,
200 foot high carrera marble white
Christ touching heart laying his hand
upon us all, Spanish acoustic
cantata, black -hulled freighter, unmoving.
11-14-2000 Top Floor Ambos Mundos Hotel Palace de Arms, Havana
33.Flea Market 'Mercado',
warm sun beats down upon
erotic nudes, Picassos, palm
mountain landscpaes, weird sex
abstracts, imprisoned U.S.
dollars, 50s coloured cars,
wooden torsos, woven clothing,
silver hawk canes, tourist
crap, Che' berets, magic beads-
drums shakers, voices call out,
"Cohiba Senor? where are you
from? you are part of the
solidarity?" One legged man
begs between stalls. World
tourists pick and choose.
"No Moleste''.
34.Fidel 'live' in green shiny fatigues
on televison eloquently talking
slowly, state of the nation,
his truth, comments, critical
appraisal and the ghost of revolutions
past in his eyes, bent to the cause,
family and dignataries carefully
poised, green military flat hat
grey fluff beard long fingers pointing
along the nose in thought.
Long live the leader. Long live
the spirit of determination.
He cuts the red ribbon to the
museum. A gold sword in scabbard
on display.
35.Tomorrow we leave for
Cancun, Mexico, then
America, land of smoking
mirrors and an unknown
electoral college.
We bring parting, wisdom,
experience. The hospital
treated a delegate's injured
foot for free. No painkillers,
floor was pocked-marked.
Writers spoke and read their
work. One is inspired by
visions of country and self in the
blazing emerald cosmos.
36.I yearn for California,
crazy in opportunity
washing over in wealth
and poverty of plans
to sustain it's natural
beauty. The people must
decide the golden state.
The grizzily must be
freed.
I yearn for the coastal
ranges, where my heart
can rest temporarily. I contemplate
the work ahead, composition
of the white dwarf, small but
the total universe, inherited.
37.Leaving Havana in a light rain,
adios amigos, thru the
dark and sunny fantasia clouds-
the city falls below, ocean skin
spreads into the sky, jet-pierced.
White razor beach Cancun,
wind-whipped cumulus,
mystical torquoise water and
hotel stretched roads, carpetjungled
earth, wheels of fortune.
(15,000 feet, flight #152)
38.Seductive capitalism of Cancun,
drinking a 'hurricane 23 oz. at the Hard
Rock Cafe', Rolling Stone framed guitar
photo trinket videogold records around
the walls, elevated stage, bar
shaped like a guitar. Wealth,
fame, spent American youth, hot love,
drugs & influence. One wave could
flush this expensive jewel clean
of all its tiger eye glitz.
39.Almost in America, intense
commercials even on mexican televison,
buy sell, celebrate upcoming holidays,
prosecute ski-lift operators, con-
template legal ballot legislative options
for president, eat right, save on
your funeral, sweat at 7:18pm
turn on the air, light snow in Colorado,
waves roaring in the night and stars
above the black ocean of Cancun.
11-15-2000
40.Mango crone three-quarter moon
rising out of the Caribean,
Sirius still underwater while
Orion tilts, Taurus beckons,
Saturn and Pleiades shine.
I tell all to the Mango
Crone as i had prayed to
the Black Madonna. The
ocean is warm and inviting.
Relative Eternity breaks in foam.
41.Do you structure for power?
Do you work for equity?
Do you heal your web.
Does love adorn your neck?
Do you contemplate your fate?
The sand gets sucked from
around my feet as the tide
goes out with all the news
electronique, begging, or in bronze,
perhaps left in the jungle growth.
42.Yes, convert your enemies
organize the wary
promote a better world and
fill all the others. A large
cockroach lies dead on his
back in a modern hallway.
43.The heat begins. Brilliant
orange yellow white star
ascends over blue slate
ocean. High dark bamboo
rafters. Dream of frustration.
Waves reflect the sun turbinating
to the easy beach. What are
you thinking said the merchant.
"Break my heart and be my
first sale." Prosperous planning.
44.Cancun airport, purchase Cuban
Ron, 3 years aged, enough to
remember a fine experience. We
dodge the thunderhead islands
toward Huston and U.S. customs.
George Bush International airport,
smoking petrochemical clouds,
clear cut jungles, trackhome
forest, back in the U.S.A. I've
got my declaration signed, Havana Ron.
45.Wait for baggage to fall and
serve ourselves before U.S. Customs.
I feel nervous yet, clear, tired.
"Is this rum from Cuba?"
"Yes sir, it is." "Stand over here."
Pulling my carry on to a badged
agent, i see the officials look
thru suitcases, carryons etc.
I approach and state the facts. "Did
you buy this in Cuba?" "No sir."
"Were you in Cuba?" I pause a
microsecond and realize the im-
plication. We were told not to offer
any incriminating evidence.
"No" I reply, emphatically.
46.Pulling on rubber gloves, he
checks all my baggage, has
me read my passport guidelines, repeat
my understanding of the law,
sign my waiver of possession rights.
"Did you go to Cuba?"
"No". "I stayed in Cancun
for rest and relaxation. Union va-
cation.""You understand by signing
this" as he took the 2 bottles of
rum and one Cuban cigar, "you
cannot take any effective legal
action against this seizure by Customs."
"Yes, I understand. Iam in error."
So I hurridedly repacked, checked
in my baggage and missed my flight.
Left Huston 7:25pm, much turbulence,
scary thoughts, prayed to all deities
for safe passage. What else to do?
I want to live and create.
Ate a Continental Air Pierre
burger. Juicy cheese burger in
aluminum wrap. Pray some more.
Coiffured oriental lady reading
chinese magazine; interesting line drawings
of eye expressive foreheads.
There were actresses in headgear
and a Chinese gentlemen in suits,
all photographs amongst carefully
spaced chinese characters.
I will kiss and caress
the SFO Airport. Set a bowl of
milk for Anubis. Give thanks
to Buddha and Allah. Praise the
four elements and Jesus de anoited.
11-16-2000 8:56pm
47.Powdered grid-light cities
in the blackness of night & earth,
engines smooth and strong
prayers answered, San Francisco
bay here we descend.
48.Descending into the Cities
of Light, twinkling million
streets, lives, commerce; landing gear
shudders on the airstrip, engines
reversed hotrodlike, taxi perfectly,
seatbelts click off, waiting hustle
as we empty our lives out of the
bedrooms of jet aircraft, thanks,
excellent job to the Pilots and Crew,
cold SFO,
Diary of a Gecko.
11.16.2000
Noh Gallery, Santa Rosa, California
Engineer; Sam Brevard.
(c) John C. Morrison 2000
* * * * *