Tag Archives: discover


28 Jul

Truly, this: My thoughts
of you won’t leave the worn paths
carved within my heart

Our eyes, our mouths, locked
invisible caresses
skin to skin, linger

I meant everything
my silent lips have said
and more. Yes, there is more.


Bar Harbor, Maine

Bar Harbor, Maine

Sometimes there is no clear path. There are many things I want to express, but at the same time I have to question myself: to what end?

Mincing words almost always leads me to haiku. This is a series of three haikus. Together they are but a scratch along the surface of everything I keep inside.

The last haiku is 5-7-5, but for aesthetic purposes I dropped the 7th syllable of the second line down to the last line. So, instead of a haiku, its a my-ku 😉


31 Mar

The crowd disapproves
when I tell them
I am not a feminist anymore

I can feel their
removal of support
thickening in the air

I am for equality
I declare, because
I have been afforded the luxury

Afterwards, 5 or 6
friendly feminists come up,
they have come to set me straight

Feminists are for equality
they admonish, urging me
to feel comfortable again with their terms

I think of the inequalities
I have suffered at the hands
of their doctrine

I smile, and listen politely
They are entitled
to their opinion

But they sharpen
their knives
to silence my voice

Though, by their own precepts
my experience is equal
as valid as anyone else’s.


I think this poem is quite a propos for the last day of March. NaPoWriMo is tomorrow!

“If a poem holds only what we already understand and are comfortable with, we wouldn’t need the poem.” -Jane Hirschfield

Piedra y Palo

31 Jan

No todos los latinos son mexicanos
y no todos los mexicanos escriben
sobre la migra y sueñan con el norte

No todos los poemas son sobre la dura vida
mi hermana vendiendose para comer pan
en manos de chulos que no se la dan

No todos los poetas son chicanos
ni tampoco son todos ellos pandilleros
de rodillas los domingos en el prisión

Si es asi, quienes mismos son la gente culta?
Viven en urbanizaciones a puertas cerradas
Cual es tu apellido? No lo reconozco.

Siempre busco los niños pobres en el barrio
para unos momentos sentir su sencilla felicidad
Pelotas de piedra y muñecas de palo.

Curiosos sobre todo pero sin comprender
que sin zapatos y ropa limpia nunca
van a superar. La vida es dura.

Hay demasiados niños. Sus risas innocentes
me duelen hasta el alma. Entiendo
el lenguaje de su dulce niñez

Pero no todos los latinos hablan castellano.
¿Son latinos entonces? o que?
Gente ajena con quien no identifico.

Ayyyy, Lupita, no se preocupe
la navidad lo tapa todo de luz y de blanco
la virgen siempre nos protegerá.

Pero vaya pidele al cura
dame un poco de su pan esta noche.
Mija, lo siento, no hay mas.

A mud hut.

A mud hut.

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