Mujeres Latinas Somos

Mujeres Latinas Somos
we are of the earth, brown and rich
ever connected to our roots
we give birth to humanity
our bodies grow like the limbs of a tree
ready to embrace the world

history is written into the lines
of our faces; our eyes tell the stories
of the past, we are our mothers
we are our daughters, we are the
women warriors of our ancestry
strength is in our blood

Mujeres Latinas Somos
we are the water, Yemaya
embraces and cleanses us
in her familial waves, teaching us
the rituals of motherhood
guiding us as we guide our young

Our mothers, once daughters
Our daughters, soon mothers
the cycle of life keeps to the
beat beat beat - beat beat of our hearts
their spirits urging us forward

Mujeres Latinas Somos
we are of pride and knowledge
we feel with our minds and
think with our hearts; we are strong
and sensitive at our cores; we defend
and protect

We are of iron, withstanding
the abuses of our society
we continue to raise our
fatherless sons practiced in
the fine art of patience and love

Mujeres Latinas Somos
we are of work; knowing the
the burdens of the domestic
we take flight from our parents
and create new traditions

We
are of art and poetry
We
are of song and dance
We
are of culture and pride

Mujeres Latinas Somos

Nuyorican Tales

Kan kan kan kan-kan…
My heart beats to the rhythm of the clave
Caribbean sun-kissed skin
Mi piel… café con leche
Evidence of a tainted ancestry
Coffee bean colored…
These are the eyes of my mother

Raised by the Bronx
Musing on medleys of salsa
Pouring Celia, Hector, Frankie &Ruben
From apartment windows
Inspiring spontaneous song and dance
From locals watching games of domino
On city sidewalks

Childhood memories of the syrupy sweet
Tamarindo piraguags and
Playing in pompas to cool down
On heat drenched summer city days
We eagerly anticipated the
Puerto Rican Day Parade
With our banderas held high
We shouted WEEEEPPPPPAAAAA

Que Viva Puerto Rico
Isla Del Encanto
Amor de mi alma
Never questioning whether our pride
Was innate or instilled
We were raised to love all of who were are
Mamí didn’t tolerate ignorance

Our bodies fed on strict diets of
pernil, arroz con gandules y yuca
Barrio frituras – alcapurias y bacalitos
Jugo de Guayaba in Goya cans
Christmas meant pastels y arroz con dulce
An extra present for leaving grass under your bed
Para los Reyes Magos

Annual pilgrimages to Borinquen
Island of my mother’s birth
Island of my soul’s content
A moment to become one with
Con nuestras raices cultural

Schoolgirl choruses of
Alegre vengo de la motaña
De mi cabaña que alegre esta
Y a mis amigos les traigo flores
De las mejores de mi rosal
We sang bright eyed and hopeful

Looking forward time spent
With Mamî Panchita, Tios
Titis y mis primo hermanos
I miss my grandmother’s eyes
Knowing Papito Kique from
Old tales y Mama Chonga a testament
To an ancestry rooted in slavery

A return to New York City
Nueva York where school buildings
Are named after Julia de Burgos,
Tito Puente y Felisa Rincón de Gautier
And we hang images of Don Pedro
Albizu Campos in our homes

We were fluent in Spanglish
Raised on a mixed bag of
Grease, Gone With the Wind and Marry Poppins
El Chavo del Ocho and watched Iris Chacón
shake her cadera on television

Este orgullo born in me
Rooted in my mother's journey
Grounded in a New York's cement
Spiritually bound to my ancestors
Divine inspiration, I pen my history

This is my story
A tales of two cultures
Two countries, two languages
One idenity, one Nuyorican
One me

Wifebeater - Extended from "No Holds Barred"

A wifebeater
ain't nuthin' but a tank top
wife... beater
wife... beat... her
beat her up, nice and good
so she knows her place, you pummel her face
beat her down to the ground, wife beater
drag her up and down the stairs
wrap your large hands 'round her neck
make sure you wear your
wifebeater when you beat her
so she can see the blood stains from her face
beat her when she's out of line
beat her when she's not on time
beat her when she's looking fine
beat her, wife beater
show her you're the king of your domain
be sure to wear those sexy wifebeaters
you know, the ones Jordan looks so good in
they come in... packs of black and blue
and shades of gray
wear that wifebeater under your shirt
so its imprint reminds her of
the imprints you left on her body
wife beater, beat her up nice and good
like daddy showed you, you could
shame her into having to explain
the cuts, bruises and brownish stains
flex on your woman, as life has flexed on you
force her to flinch, falter and forget
tell her she made you lose control, so you beat her
tell her its because you love her, that you beat her
beat her, wife beater, til she's numb
leave those sweaty wifebeaters about the the house
trophies of your battles won, symbols of her beaten heart
beat her in the name of respect
beat her in the name of power
beat her, when you can't stand to see her
and don't forget, to call it your wifebeater
when you beat her
so your daughter will know its name

Black Widow

mmmmm
let's face it
you want me
it is as if every fiber
of your being lives only for me
you look upon my black
lacquer skin and
see love's reflection
you want to touch me
you can't control it
resistance in futile
as I saunter about my web
you become hypnotized by my curves
a queer magnetism draws you closer
soon the sounds of your day
will be soaked in my silken voice
a causal glance over my shoulder
a teasing smile from my lips
a our heart beats synchronize
your are drawn closer to me
sending amorous vibrations
you listen intently
as I string sweet tales of love
so that i might keep you innocent
I carefully shield my widow's mark
my loving limbs and supple body
provide you with false security
we weave silk fantasies
of love and the promise of a future
I will gaze into your blinded eyes
whisper my love for you
I will wrap you in my love
layer upon layer just enough
to hint at suffocation
I'll play with you, my new toy
while my hunger continues to build
I have something else in mind
When I've had my fill of you
I'll ever so gently pierce your flesh
with my fangs and gaze at you
you face twitching nervously
love's venom making its way steadfastly
through your veins and into your brain
slowly the parts of your body begin to paralyze
ohh... no no no don't look at me that way
this is what you wanted , isn't it?
i've given you the gift of my love
because you are mine
and when you think you're ready to die
I'll inject you a second time with love's venom
so strong that your flesh will slowly soften
enough for me to drink from you body
under the moon's prominent light
when i look up my lips and chin
crimson stained as i clutch your
once beating heart in my hands
I breathe heavily, my heart still racing
when I've grown tired of your stench
I'll clip your carcass from my web
and release your limp body to the same fate
as the fools to came before you
then I'll shall return to my throne
awaiting love's next victim

30 Poems in 30 Days #30

Moon is the mother
of lost babies. She
keeps them hidden
behind her light.
Some babies she
takes by right.
Others are given
to her in the darkness
of the night. Babies
with no names are
hers and hers alone.
She is the moon.
Keeper of lost
babies.

Letter to an Absentee Father #29

Letter to an Absentee Father

It seems of late you have
a certain interest in me.
Passing messages to me
through various extended family.
I find it interesting that 30 years
down the road we barely know
each other and yet you speak
of me as if we've always been
close.

I'm not avoiding you nor am I
actively seeking you out,
since I have a father,
who's name is Mami. I recall
with clarity the husband you
used to be and the father you
pretended to be all those years ago.

So ask yourself really, what could we
possibly have in common that would
make a reunion imminent? I've grown,
developed and flourished in your absence
and frankly think I'm the better for it. So
thank you for your inquiry, but our time
has run its course. So I ask of you
sincerely to accept this as reality.

Yours very truly...

The Single Woman's Rant #27

YES: I'm single
YES: I'm fine
YES: I'm successful
YES: I'm thirty years old and
NO: I'm NOT interested in you!

Don't you love it when you're
Standing in a line, wasting time
Waiting on your number to be called
And some brother gets the gall
To strike up a conversation and
You want to leave in desperation
When he makes some comment like
"Your husband must be waiting for you outside"
"A woman as fine as you shouldn't be alone"
"Are you married?"
"Your boyfriend is a lucky man"
To which you are forced to reply
With a smile no less - "That's kind but I'm single"
Reaction: Jaws drop, eyebrows raise, minds race
And a flood of questions probing into this social disgrace
Guess what, players the only thing wrong with me is you
You stand there amazed that this is a choice not a phase
I've got a nice life, not interested in being a wife
I don't subscribe to traditions under any conditions
As you live for you, I too live for me
This isn't a problem, oh why can't you see
Stop asking me questions don't seem so surprised
There are many like me just open your eyes
Despite what you think I am very fulfilled
Truth be told I mean you no ill-will
But in dates I've no interest, in relationships much less
Been there and done that most suitors failed the test
My standards are quite high, this much is true
But my heart is quite fragile and protect it I must do
So please don't feel bad or have any sense of pity
I'm a hot single, gal living in the big city
My days are long and my nights are quite fun
I'm gonna live this way til my days are all done

30 Poems in 30 Days #26

Stinging eyes
tingling face
his touch
his scent
his voice
all escape her
as grief grafts itself
on her bones
she does not
she cannot move
sitting unshowered
knees to chest
staring blankly
out of the window
she looks past
nature's youth
craving to hear
"no" and "right" with
elements of sarcasm
once again
her ink stained hands
would never touch
his smooth skin again
her worn eyes
would never drink
him in again
she couldn't conceive
of a time, a time when
haunting echoes
bitter tears
no longer plagued her
unprepared for a final
goodbye
she mourned the past
eyes closed tightly
recreating his image
afraid to move
she would never
write again

30 Poems in 30 Days #25

It is only fair to say
Your ghost visits me day to day
I thought it only a fond memory
The result of my heart's recovery
Our time has grown into a love affair
An act of betrayal of which we were unaware
The reality of your physical absence
Makes more real his supernatural presence
Awaking me midnight to whisper in my ear
Your scent upon my sheets has settled fears
A light caress of your once hands on my skin
I react as in days past, now akin
I looked up to find your silhouette at the door
From mine eyes a flood of tears would pour
Thinking that our love had been destroyed
Your ghost has come to fill that void

30 Poems in 30 Days #24

Do not speak to me of love
You know too little of it
Do not speak to me of trust
Liars abuse it too frequently
Do not speak to me faith
When you mock my beliefs
Do not speak to of hope
You have crushed all traces of it

30 Poems in 30 Days #23

the day of my death
was a day like any other
the sun shone brightly in the sky
I was laden with housework
every thought was of my lover
it would be our last night together
my heart fluttered in anticipation
the day progressed in normalcy
my smile would greet him at the door
our voices would fill the evening
with stories and laughter
as I prepared a feast for him
until that fateful moment
when he would excuse himself
to our once lovers' sanctuary
there he would discover a secret
the confrontation would cause
a gust of air to escape my lungs
the sound to escape my throat
my heart ceased to beat
as I collapsed I recognized
death succumbing my body
though my physical body
would continue to roam
the world shattered around me
everything I had created
in that moment I had extinguished
what life had existed within me

30 Poems in 30 Days #22

child's laughter
bird's soft melody
sun's warmth
rain's cool drops
In grief...
Have lost their meaning

30 Poems in 30 Days #21

Crash
Into me
Your rippling waves
Knock me down
As your salt water love stings
My eyes, nose and throat
I try to stand and you
Crash... Into me
Your undercurrent
Pulls me down, pulls me in
I lose control of my body
I'm breathless as you
Crassshhh... into me
My lungs begin to burn
As I try to escape your love
I reach for the ocean's surface
You pull me in again
My body is fighting, fighting
I'm drowning, drowning
I catch a glimpse of the sun's sparkle
Glimmering
You crash into me
My body is pulled to the shore
I reject you as my body begins to heave
expelling your love
from my stomach and lungs
You burn me from the inside
As I cough up your love
onto the damp sand you
crash
into me
leaving me vulnerable and weak
you crash
into me

30 Poems in 30 Days #20

She cut herself today
Stainless steels pair of scissors
Slipped onto her fingers opened
Pressed the pointed tip against her skin
Felt the coolness as she pressed deeper in
She cut herself today
So that she might feel something else she'd
Grown tired of the lies
Grown tired of the secrets
Grown tired of her reflection

She burned herself today
Lit cigarette lifted from an ashtray
The scent of tobacco and tar
Masked with menthol
Put the cigarette out on her skin
She burned herself today
So that she might feel something else she'd
Grown tired of pretending
Grown tired of skeletons
Grown tired of loving

30 Poems in 30 Days #19

In the growing absence of your words
my mind begins to race up Everest
thoughts consume every part of me
an intricate web of tales are woven
my leg trembles as I stare through the phone
I envision all of the things you are doing
In your silence I write and rewrite our script
The beat of my heart speeds up
Every sound causes me to react
I close my eyes
Envisioning your mouth, your lips
Speak to me, speak
My calls go unanswered
Panic settles itself in my chest
My eyes begin to well
I shut out the world
attempting to recall the sound of your voice
a sentence, a word, a breath
silence

[work in progress]

30 Poems in 30 Days #18

Write me well, when you write
Remember me for my love
Write to remind the world
of a brief and beautiful life
Write of my adventures
Write of my encounters
Write of my passions
Tell the tales of my youth
with love and longing
Tell the tales of my talents
with awe and admiration
I ask only one thing
Refrain from telling truths
Do not haunt the the dreams
of readers with my transgressions
Blind them with my beauty
Let them peacefully sleep

Wifebeater #17

"A Wife Beater Ain't Nuthin But a Shirt"

Wifebeater
Wife beater
Wife, beat her
Beat her up nice and good
So she knows her place
Be sure to wear your
Wife beater when you beat her
So she sees the stains of blood
From her face
Beat her when she's out of line
Wife beater
You are the king of your domain
Those sexy wife beaters that you wear
When you beat you come in hues
Of black and blue and shades of gray
You wear that wife beater
Under your shirt so its imprint
Remains a constant reminder
Of when you beat her last
Wife beater; beat her nice and good
Like papa showed you, you could
Leave your wife beaters around the house
Like trophies of your triumph over her spirit
Don't forget to call your wife beater, a wife beater
as you beat her, so that your daughter
might know its name

The Apology #16

my apology became an echo
reverberating in your vacant mind
my finger tips frost bitten
from touching your skin
my face soaked with tears I
apologize; I betrayed you
I robbed you of
the right to know
the right to choose
that in my quest
for self-fulfillment I
treaded on the blades of grass
that were your heart
I trampled your innocence
and let you think that
we
were
as I watched you sleep
in my bed I knew you were
my victim
a victim in a selfish plot
that was the story of my love
for you
though you question me
and hear only lies
when I speak love to you
I want to remind you
of the risks I took to be with you
preparations I had made to defend
my loving you
to think that I would appear to you
in the future and my apology
would have meant nothing I
apologize that I lacked the courage
to take my life in effort
to prove my remorse
I wear a jester's cap today
ever the clown in your eyes
but I've lost my sense of humor
you've locked me out
knowing that I crave you
I crave the sound of your voice
and the too-few blissful moments
we shared in our secret world
now all seem to know
something's wrong
imprints of me are tattooed
on your mind as those of you
are tattooed on mine
in a tragic irony we will never
be rid of each other; while I
long to think of us as star-crossed
lovers because it allows me to
digest the shards of glass
that are my daily intake
of what I did to you
I no longer remember
the last time I saw you
what you wore
what you said
if any tears were shed I'm
sorry that you can no longer
bare the sight of me
as I long to see you with
every element of my being
I create lists in my mind
of all of the things I long to give you
Spending my days rewriting the story
of our love; the ending never changes
you... gave me poetry and
with you hands wrapped around my neck
you squeezed the words like breath
from my throat; my hands wrapped
around your heart squeezed the love
like blood from your chambers
I knew that I had won you
like a silly carnival prize
sitting atop my bureau I would
destroy you I
apologize for my inability
to recognize the evil within me
forgive me for lacking self-restraint
and exercising some sense of right
in this morally ambiguous situation
we created I'm
afraid to look into your eyes and see
the absence of hope and love
let me retrieve the pieces of your heart
so that I might rebuild it
restoring your faith in humanity
by allowing me, to be good again I
apologize for being flawed
for creating an image of the me
I wanted to be I
never asked to be put on a pedestal
surely the fall would have been
much shorter, much smoother, much easier
if I'd only had a place in your heart

30 Poems in 30 Days #15

trash bag baby
who will tell your story?
who will sing your song?
who will trace your silhouette?
fifteen year old child
would birth you in a bathroom
face streaked with blood and tears
when silence filled the room
she would wrap baby in a towel
trembling hands would place
the toweled body in a trash bag

trash bag baby
who will tell your story?
who will sing your song?
who will trace your silhouette?
twenty-four year old woman
would lay on a doctor's table
face streaked with tears
poked, prodded and suctioned
body trembling as foreign hands
collect waste into a medical bag

30 Poems in 30 Days #14

A lie
A single lie
Single handedly unraveled
Everything he knew to be true
And good in the world
Suddenly robbed of his innocence
His hopes and dreams at once shattered
He searched her eyes for answers
There were none; no effort made
To aid his understanding of what was lost
He looked for truth and she lied again

A lie
A single lie
Single handedly unraveled
Everything she wanted to be true
And good in the world
She had stolen his innocence
Shattered his hopes and dreams
He searched her empty eyes for answers
She offered none; made no effort to explain
Instead she took herself apart from inside out
He looked for truth and she lied again

30 Poems in 30 Days #13

the artist sat in darkness
when a slab of marble appeared
three days she sat
entranced by the block
immobile
stone’s shadow grew long
covering her body
she opened her eyes again
to face the white light
brilliantly reflected off the marble
transfixed by the light
her destiny began to reveal itself
and she began to create
divine hands would select and gather tools
she would work feverishly
chiseling and carving the soft stone
he spoke to her in a dream
blessed her visions
so that she might carve him
into classical perfection
two-years time
invested in godly work
her skin from the sun’s reign
a stark contrast
to his illustrious surface
she would work until her trembling hands
could no longer clasp the tools under moonlight
and then sleep by his feet
every morning she awoke prayed to him
haunted by her dreams
blood from her hands
sweat from her brow
love from her heart
would seep into his pores
lightly tainting his skin
intimately connecting the two
she looked upon her masterpiece
with loving eyes
her face stained with tears
she created him in the likeness
of a young David
full of virtue and might
faintly knowing that
he would conquer and destroy her

30 Poems in 30 Days #12

moon and sun
compete for rights to the sky
wild winds bully fallen leaves
blood stained thorns
tear marked petals
shadow a wilting body
lying lifeless
pen in one hand
a life in the other

30 Poems in 30 Days #11

when all became too much
a decision had been made
the jar sat comfortable
upon the nightstand
it often stared at the lifeless body
which had seldom moved from the bed
months had passed
since the front door had been used
the cupboards and refrigerator
had been emptied save a few condiments
layers of dust covered the furniture
who had long since forgotten the sun
leaves of once emerald plants
now wilted and brown
bits of glass coated the floor
where the television had met its demise
the phone had ceased to ring
the mailbox was inundated
with colored envelopes
the pen had grown too heavy for the hand
eyelids had grown too heavy for the face
the heart began to race and a faint smile
appeared on the face; as heavy lids
looked upon the jar just light enough for the hand
the ceremony would soon begin
as tiny white pills where counted in the palm
this deadly rite would continue
until the dancing heart slowed to a stop

30 Poems in 30 Days #10

Darkness crept over her body

and too soon it would consume her thoughts
she discarded her mask and let down her hair
for all to see who and what she really was
she wanted not of the sun, but only the moon
her soul sent forth haunting moans
and endless weeping
the scent of flowers
the coolness of the ocean
the whisper of the wind
had lost their meaning

30 Poems in 30 Days #9

run
run child
run after love

she tried to capture love
like a lightening bug in a glass jar
so that she might hold onto love’s light

she chased after love
like a butterfly fluttering just outside her reach
so that she might admire love’s brilliant hues

she listened for love
like the wind whispers to a tree
so that she might hear love’s message

run child run
run after love

thinking she had found love
she squeezed it tight with a boa’s might
until love lost its last breath

weeping over lost love
her lyrical lament poured from her wilting body
though she had been warned of love she didn’t listen

thinking she could control love
she found herself running, chasing, listening, looking
for what was never meant to be

run, run after love child

Fairytale - 30 Poems in 30 Days #8

There was a lady
rich in beauty, grace, kindness & wisdom
all who met her grew to love her dearly
The Lady kept a quiet life
often her interactions were
to help those in need
People often wondered about her solitude
For one as beautiful and kind as she
to be alone seemed a gloomy fate
No one knew of the Lady's curse -
that anyone whom she dared to love
would then be tainted and himself cursed -
One sunny day a young prince arrived
Having heard tales of her beauty and wisdom
He pursued the Lady with great vigor
The Lady having an immense want of love
and unable to resist the beauty of his eyes
his hypnotic voice or the strength of his will
Thinking only of the love she began to feel
thinking that she could protect him; she
locked the secret of her curse in a closet
She had not felt love
before he gently touched her face
before he spoke of her beauty and her grace
before he filled her heart with his embrace
Despite the curse she dared to love him in return
She wrapped her heart around his body
She gave to him every part of her
'Til one cursed morning she awoke to find
her sweet young prince weeping as he stood inside
the closet where she'd locked away the curse
As she looked upon him her heart stopped beating
and slowing began to disintegrate; Far at that moment
she knew the curse had revealed itself to him
She turned to runaway unable to accept what she had done
he grabbed and pulled her back to him he eyes piercing hers
searching for answers that she could not provide

30 Poems in 30 Days #7

I knew nothing of the sun
before I looked into your eyes

I knew nothing of song
before I heard your voice

I knew nothing of humor
before I heard you laugh

I knew nothing of happiness
before I saw you smile

I knew nothing of love
before I felt your embrace

I knew nothing courage
before I knew of your fight

I knew nothing of hope
before I listened to your dreams

I knew nothing of fear
before I let go of your hand

30 Poems in 30 Days #6

Imagination can be dangerous
when it turns pawns into kings
boys into men and frogs into princes

Imagination can be tricky
when it creates an atmosphere
of love from a sweltering swamp

Imagination can be devious
when it convinces you of a
safe passage through a thorny forest

Imagination can be cruel
when it sends you sugar coated
blades that open old wounds

Imagination can be adversarial
when it mocks you and exposes
your vulnerability for all to witness

Imagination can be fatal
when it pricks your heart forcing
you to bleed your love onto the ground

Imagination can be dangerous
when it turn pawns into kings
boys into men and frogs into princes

Secrets, Lies and Half-truths #5

I
Loving, liars who like to lie in bed
Looking deeply into each others eyes
As they hide secrets from one another
Skeletons first exposure to day's light
Will foster feelings of pain and anguish
Lying lovers will blame each other
Falsehoods and facades made lies of love
Then lovers lie and play their parts
Parting ways they feign hurt and despair

II
Fear crippled a heart and mind
Silenced the truth by forcing the mouth shut
A secret lingers in the mind
Often choking of the right words
Cowardly hiding the truth from love
A careless mistake forced truth into the light
No explanation or justification
Wound heart turns and walks away
From wounded heart

III
Lie to me
When you tell me I'm the one you want
Tell stories of my glory as you sex another lover
Feign interest in my needs as you think of her
Stroke my ego to access to my bed

Lie to me
When you tell me I'm the only one
Listen intently as I speak low to you when I speak love
Then whisper those very words in her ear
Let me believe truths conveniently shielding omitted lies

Lie to me
When you tell me that your heart beats for me
String my heart along as plan a future with another
Hide from me when you want to see her
Make me believe that it is I who is behaving strangly

30 Poems in 30 Days #4

The blade like poet's pen to paper
carve tales of your love into my skin
the sting turns to pain as
your words penetrate me
you mark your territory
i am silenced in your presence
my skin begins to weep
tears of blood as it is forced
to recount our days together
every pulse, crimson waves
stain my sheets
My body's canvas tells the tales
of your love's artistry
it reveals to the world
what has been locked in my heart
the blood congeals and with time
my wounds begin to heal
the scars that mark my skin
remain a constant reminder
of the moments we shared

The Dream - #3

She sat up in bed
Touched his motionless shoulder
He gazed up at her
They knew it was time

Their synchronized hearts
Pick up speed
Escape was the only solution
The only chance to preserve their love

Silent conversations dominate the air
Moving about swiftly, they
gather their belongings

The journey begins

No longer able to keep their secret
they run to liberate their love
Unable to explain the union of their souls
Unable to say goodbye to loved ones

Heightened emotions, challenging decisions
Force questions, doubt and fear
He want to turn around, to go back
She convinces him its the only way

Grief and worry fills her heart
As she looks upon his sleeping face
She prays that love will be worth the loss
She looks ahead as the sun rises

Upon the horizon of their future

30 Poems in 30 Days #2

I want to write
of the softness of your back
the intensity of your gaze
the taste of your skin

I want to write
of the weight of your body
the heat of your breath
the strength of your arms

I want to write
of the ache in my heart
the sensation of your touch
the movement of your body 'round mine

30 Poems in 30 Days #1

Blank page rescue me
From a sinking heart
I want to crawl under a rock
To shut out the light and day's beauty
that is your love as you prepare
For your journey

Your eyes have changed the world for me
The sky seems a different shade of blue today
The clouds, slightly less billowy
The leaves no longer emerald

Might pen encourage me to
Write away the anguish
In my heart; as I am
slowly, perhaps forcefully
Returned to solitude

Every day I wake slower to
Your departure
Another day removed from passion
This could not have been our last night
This could not have been our goodbye

Hands/Erotica Poem

Every now and then
your meet a pair of hands
that awaken once dormant
parts of your body and soul

Magic hands that erase
the lines on your face
dry the tears from your eyes
caress the curls in your hair

Hands that find pleasure
in teasing your breasts
as your nipples begin to harden
in response; your toes begin to curl
and your back begins to arch

Soft fingertips explore the reaches
of your body sending your heart a flutter
as the hair on the nape of your neck
rise to salute their captain

Large hands that knead and shape
your thighs as they eagerly hunt for your
x marks the spot as those hands reach around
grab your buttocks and pull you closer to his face

Your head falls backward
his hands hold you tighter
as his tongue reminds you of things
you had long since forgotten; you exhale

His strong hands release you
returning to their original mission
they slowly begin to play and soon
a rhythmic, rubbing sends
electric pulses throughout your body
over and over until you convulse uncontrollably

You shake and quiver, gasping for air
your eyes begin to sting; the muscles
around your body begin to soften
your racing heart slows down

Hands attached to strong arms
wrap themselves around your body
holding you closely, your eye lids become heavy
as you slowly drift into climactic slumber

Untitled

Earth brown hands
with bulging rivers pulsating
up her fragile arms
these are working hands
cooking and cleaning hands
raising seven children hands
the rivers on these hands
throbbed with the blood
of my ancestors
these are feeling hands
they touched souls within
the faces of those who's
existence is but a memory
these hands have caressed my face
and blessed me with a rich history
passed down from generation
to generation to generation
these hands lie listless in a bed today
no cognitive thought to direct
them a purpose
these are the hands of my grandmother

These are my father's hands
Coffee stained hands
inclined to destroy hopes and dreams
these hands became fists
and raged with hate, they were
his drumming hands, his drinking hands
his punching hands, they
conveyed an endless string
of false promises
these hands when left to their own devices
longed to connected with neglected children
grasping and pulling them into the past
These hands symbols staining
memories of violence

These are my hands
they looked like papí on this side
and mamí on the other side hands
with bulging veins traveling great distances
from the outreach of my fingertips
to the great beat of my heart hands
I wondered as a child would these
hands be the hands of violence and destruction
would they be the hands of housework and child-rearing
Would these hands have yet another purpose
A divine purpose, a gift bestowed upon me
A destiny to use these hands
they are searching hands of
near misses, manipulating pen to paper
these hands are on a a journey
across space and time to
connect what once was to
what now is
these hands carry love and rage
and it is because they love
that the violence from that rage
can meet with the page and
become the sweet lyrics to life's melody

These are working hands
raging hands
powerful hands
soul touching, mind opening hands
Uncovering the past
and diving into the future
hands