(Click on first photo to enlarge all.)
Full Volume
I hear my neighbor’s fighting cocks crow into the night,
expressing their readiness for tomorrow’s fight.
There are always noises cutting through the dark.
I hear the donkey’s braying and the dog’s loud bark.
Some neighborhood weekend party goes on ’til four or five,
expressing at great volume that they’re glad to be alive.
The singing and the music and the fireworks exploding
that sometimes make me feel as though my head may be imploding.
The church bells in the village every quarter hour declaring,
trucks advancing street by street, loudspeakers rudely blaring.
One truck selling vegetables, another selling gas,
shouting out their wares to everyone they pass.
Others selling water or cooking oil or soap,
scrub brushes or sponges, plastic buckets or rope—
Motorcycles without mufflers roaring down the street
revving up their motors for every friend they meet.
Bandas in the plaza play at a decibel
that I swear could raise the bats straight up out of Hell.
Mexico isn’t subtle. It’s bright and bold and proud.
That’s why for everything in Mexico, the volume’s turned up LOUD!!!!
The prompt word was volume.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
A wonderful post! These photos remind me of a country show put on foro the tourists in Baja when I was there! I love the mural!
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In Summer, my neighbourhood is almost like your description, and is not in Mexico
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Where are you, Olga?
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In Pamplona , Spain
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Aha. Probably all that Spanish blood that makes Mexico so noisy, then.
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Who knows . I guess it’s the mix
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http://wp.me/p8HyZd-R my new post please go through it
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lol hilarious post, love your poem and the vibrant photos .. was almost deafened by the volume and the busyness 🙂
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I was going to carefully organize the photos to go with lines of the poem and then thought, “Nah.” Let them be as disorganized as the rest of Mexico!!!
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yes both poems and photos conveyed that all too well ..well done Judy 🙂
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Sounds like fun. Great photos too!
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You would love Mexico, Mary.
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Maybe one day I can come and see you. I keep meaning to ask if you and Patti are both recovered.
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Loved this! Nothing quite like being awakened by fireworks and church bells in the morning. Given the choice, I preferred church bells, although we weren’t given a choice. Loved the sounds of Mexico and your delightful poem.
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Yes, Rome is a LITTLE bit like that. You always know when a goal is scored. Noise in the apartment building is louder in other months, though, not in the summer when everybody goes to the beach. But I love that joy to be alive. Also – we’ve got parrots, green, wild, loud just before the dusk falls. I love them too.
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There is a flock of wild parrots or cockatoos (can’t remember which) that flies around Berkeley, CA. I think all escaped tame birds that bred. Man do they make a noise when they alight in a neighborhood.
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. lol screaming(a) office, love your poem and the vivacious photos .
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. lol uproarious place, dearest your poem and the vibrant photos .
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