Locals submit odes to Miami-Dade ZIP codes

Throughout April, we asked locals to write odes to their ZIP codes. A ZIP Ode is five lines, with the number of words in each line determined by your particular ZIP code. If a ZIP code contained a zero, that line could be left blank or used to put a punctuation mark or symbol. Presidential Inaugural poet Richard Blanco will select five winners from the project on April 29 at Vizcaya Museum and Gardens.

Below are a sampling of entries from Miami-Dade County. Learn more about the project on zipodes.tumblr.com, and review previous discussions at MiamiHerald.com/community and select Community Conversations.

Old Cuban neighbors

Smile and nod,

Welcoming

My wife and I

To our new home.

▪ 

Above Miami Beach

Thousands of Snowbirds

Celebrate

Their escape from absolute

Zero

▪ 

The dolphin man

rides his bike

daily

on South Miami’s street

named after him

▪ 

To my west,

nature’s palatial prairies —

everglades.

To my east, fruity palace of men’s palates:

El Palacio de los Jugos.

▪ 

Shades of blue

Whiffs of salt

Freedom

Causeways, bridges taking me

Home

▪ 

On Douglas Road

From my window

I

See all the magic

that Miami seduces me with

▪ 

A whip-poor-will called

the other night.

Shenandoah-

this old place

never ceases to surprise me.

▪ 

“Simplify,” said Thoreau…

Well we know

How

This is done…watching wild coffee grow…

Ducks paddling slow….

▪ 

in Little Haiti

drums echo at

night

keeping roosters awake

and I toss and turn hoping for sleep

▪ 

Trees and palms

create the canopy.

Neighbors,

kids on bikes, scooters and blades

ride along the shady sidewalks below.

▪ 

No one ever

knew how quickly

your

shining towers

would grasp for clouds, fingers in the blue sky.

▪ 

Dade County Pines

once silhouetted the

sky

against orange sunset, the memories are mine

.

▪ 

A dark night

with etherial light

shining

on the empty neighborhood street

footsteps crunching gravel by my bare feet

▪ 

Man on bike

appears naked but

thong.

Thank God, thong.

On second thought, with glutes like that, why thong?

▪ 

What are those

odd white street

signs?

Too low to

see. Missed my turn.

▪ 

Rodeada de lagos,

naturaleza en colores,

aromas

de flores y animales silvestres reviven tu ser

en el amanecer y despojan la tristeza al atardecer.

▪ 

Unincorporated Miami-Dade County

Close to Nothing

Center

In between Kendall and Homestead no name

Unincorporated Miami-Dade County is my sweet home

▪ 

in the hood

makes me brood

ruins my mood

▪ 

Turning a corner?

Turn on signal

Please!

But not just in North Miami

Florida!

▪ 

Miami reinvents itself

with restaurants and

cocktails.

But those who’ve

been here awhile, stick to backyard lifestyles.

▪ 

In Doral City

Happily I live

Speaking

Spanglish, eating arepas, listening to Salsa and

Dancing to the rhythm of Oscar de Leon.

▪ 

A barrier island

A humble beginning

Andrew!

An elite new start

Rats! I can’t afford to live on Key Biscayne.

▪ 

Iguanas lounging on

Our seawall like

Movie

Extras hoping for that Godzilla call

!

▪ 

Miami, my muse

Your beauties ruse

Nonnative

From the people up to the trees

Only thing that’s natural is your warm sunny breeze.

▪ 

Pine Rockland habitat

once in abundance

now

pine tree, saw palmetto, sable palm, tickseed

scattered in patches across this zip

▪ 

Three zero five

You forever are

The

Espumita to my Cuban coffee

And guava to my pastelito

▪ 

Here in Miami,

gators are my

friends.

Until they eat Sparky, that’s where the friendship

ends.

▪ 

Far enough removed

To see the

Stars

Glittering between heat lightning flashes

Awaiting school traffic behind tinted windows

▪ 

Racing ‘round the

Cul de sac

Sunburnt

Pedaling my bike at the speed of light.

An infinite sunset.

▪ 

Rusty bikes on

Flagler’s empty street,

Pedaling

Through broken glass.

▪ 

Strip mall/sprawl

Strip mall/sprawl

Dadeland

That high school used to a be strawberry field

This city used to be a swamp

▪ 

my neighbor is

the rooster bailando

Salsa

with the palm trees; cafe con

leche me da la vida.

▪ 

My little garden

Feeds my family

Tomatoes, collards, potatoes and cabbages

A little water every day

▪ 

i don’t live

here, but hundreds

do.

immigrants waiting for a chance, for freedom–behind bars

at krome detention center.

▪ 

I’ve been living

here for twelve

years,

and gone to the beach

maybe three damn times.

▪ 

your eyes curve

your smile blurs

Florida heat

makes it seem as if (please) you love me

▪ 

Peacocks are beautiful

with feathers that

shine.

They jump on

rooftops and fly.

▪ 

Roncaban dos iguanas

debajo del puente

cuando

respondió la luna: –Sí…aquí estaremos siempre.

Somos anclas del río Miami.

▪ 

How many people

can you fit

?

on one

peninsula

▪ 

I go out

To walk my

Dog

Ducks and cats roam the streets like it’s their

Own Lago Mar

▪ 

You can’t be

broke and happy.

So me, I’m

mad rich.

▪ 

Lazy dawn: birds

sing the coda,

welcoming

the tiny flecks

of light

▪ 

Technically my zip

code doesn’t reach

the beach. We get I-95 though.

This story was originally published April 23, 2015 at 1:40 PM with the headline "Locals submit odes to Miami-Dade ZIP codes."