Solo Poet - J. F. Seary

NYC Performance 11/9

2011-11-03T01:24:00.001-07:00

BoriMix Poetry Reading at O.P. Art StudioWeds. Nov. 9th 6pm $5 coverO.P. Art Studio/Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center107 Suffolk Street b/w Rivington and Delancey (LES)BoriMix

Poet-on-the-Run NYC Performances 10/21 & 10/22

2011-10-21T09:05:00.001-07:00

CreativeInk Open Mic Series w/ host Maria Rodriguez Morales
Friday Oct 21st doors open at 6p show starts at 8p $10 cover
Common Space NYC
70-15 Austin Street (Across from the UA Movie Theater)
Forest Hills, NY
Check out the Facebook page for the event
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=133275926774472

You Are Beautiful The Way Your Are Showcase
Saturday, October 22, 2011 from 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM $5 cover
Teachers College, Columbia University - Private Dining Room
525 W 120th St (Basement of Grace Dodge Hall)
New York, NY 10027
Check out the event brite for ticket details
http://beautyintheeyeofbeholder.eventbrite.com/

Poet-on-the-Run Fall 2011 Edition

2011-08-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

Cultural Connections
Monday Aug 22nd 7:30pm
Yale University, New Haven, CT 06520

Urbintel presents Def Poetry
Thursday Sept 1st 7:00pm
James Madison University Harrisonburg, VA 22801

Spoken Word Performance*
Thur Sept 29th Details TBA
Grand Valley State University, Allendale, MI

Urbintel presents HerStory
Wed Oct 5th 7pm
Clark Atlanta University, Atlanta, GA 30314

Atlanta Open Mic Tour
Oct 6th-10th Venues TBA

Urbintel presents HerStory
Thurs Oct 13th 9pm
Pace University, Pleasantville, NY 10570

*Stay tuned for updates to the calendar as some performances are still in negotiation.

Upcoming March Shows

2011-03-09T09:50:00.000-08:00

Women's Night of Poetry:

Friday March 18, 2011 8:00 PM - 9:00 PM
Vaudville Park 26 Bushwick Avenue Brooklyn, NY
$5 at door. Free for performers and youth under 18.

URBINTEL presents Verses ft HerStory cast:

Saturday March 26, 2011 10:00 PM - 11:59 PM
Nuyorican Poets Café 236 East 3rd Street New York, NY 10002

The Period Project- An Anthology on Menstruation:

Thursday March 31, 2011 7:00 PM - 9:00 PM
31-10 Thompson Avenue. Corner of Van Dam street.
Laguardia Community College: E-Building Room E501.

Women Of Words:

Thursday March 31, 2011 10:00 PM - 11:30 PM
@ The Bowery Poetry Club 308 Bowery, New York, NY
featuring Eternia, Helena D. Lewis, Evolution, Devynity, Shae Fiol, and J.F. Seary.

This is Goodbye

2011-03-02T20:10:00.000-08:00

This is goodbye
It may come as a surprise
but I'm leaving
I'm through, done, fed-up
and I'm tired
"love, don't live here anymore"
You see there are some truths
that have been haunting my dreams
How you wormed your way into
my life and I allowed it
Allowed myself to look for love
in your eyes knowing that I
would never find it
I indulged you and
now there are bruises on my heart
and scars on my mind
the blunt for trauma to my soul
has left it unrecognizible
I am leaving; beacause you think
that I owe you. And so you stand
at my door with your hands outstretched expecting
reparations for a romance gone wrong.
You think that I have to pay
But what you fail to realize
is that there is nothing. I am emotionally
bankrupt and this love's hotel has no vacancies
you cannot stay here
and I should have left you long ago
but guilt cemented my feet and
I could not move forward
I was stuck, immobile
trying to figure out how life's
directions led me to you.
What wrong turn had I taken?
What false lead had I followed?
Did I mistake bullshit boulevard for lover's lane?
I am through with you
Sick and tired of playing games with you.
You're losing and complaining
and I'm no longer listening. Praying
that deafness silences you
that blindness hides you
and that third degree burns over 80 % of my body
will kill my nerve endings so that my skin cannot feel you
Do not look for me.
You will only find a shadow where I used to be.
In the height of my love I would have given you everything;
today I wouldn't even give you a cold.
I run from you; like the plague you are contagious
and I am trying to preserve my health and human life
This poem is a blow to your ego;
its intention is to knock you out long enough for me
to regain control of my body
My body needs to listen to the noise in my mind;
I am no longer sleeping; wide awake I take steps
to get away from you. Every line in this poem
creates a line of distance between me and you. When you wake
you will find that I have left you
deserted and crippled; you cannot get to me.
These words are slowly starting to give me peace.
I say goodbye to you. Good bye to all of the goodness I foolishly
thought was in you. Like a fool
I was panning for gold inside of you;
and found nothing but cut glass
reflecting the sun's light
and all I had to do was was accept
that this light wasn't coming from the sun, but from me.
And when I shone my light on you; I made you better.
Made everyone believe that you were solid
instead of gold plated.
that you were truth
instead of an interlocking chain of falsehoods
You are finished; whether you're ready or not,
you're set to go. There's no time to argue
I'm moving on without you. See
I am leaving
and it may come as a surprise to you
but this is good bye.

February Tidings

2011-02-01T20:48:00.000-08:00

Good evening everyone:
I hope that this message finds you all well. I've got some exciting news & updates.

One of my poems "Waiting" was recently published in the online magazine "For Harriet." This is a great website and I invite you all to check it out at For Harriet

The producers of "Open Mic: An Urban Love Story" by Raven Blackstone is still casting male actors/poets for some of the male roles in the play. To set up an audition please contact raven at bushwickproductions@gmail.com.

February Performances

Thursday Feb 3rd 8pm - Urbintel presents "HerStory" at Williams College, Williamstown, MA

Thursday 17th 6:30pm - Simone Nikkole's "A Journey Through Poetry" Abigail's Cafe & Wine Bar 807 Classon Ave Brooklyn, NY

Wednesday Feb 23rd 7pm - Urbintel presents "HerStory" Eastern Connecticut State University, Willmantic, CT

Sunday Feb 27th (time TBA) - Black Latina Movement Poetry Showcase Nuyorican Poets Café, New York, NY

For more information on pricing, times and locations please contact me directly at jf_seary@me.com or send me a message of facebook.

Wishing you all a great week and let's hope that Punxsutawney Phil does NOT see is shadow, an early Spring for everybody! We deserve it, especially after this winter.

peace & blessings,

J.F. Seary
Poet-On-The-Run

Poet-on-the-Run Spring 2011 Edition

2011-01-23T06:11:00.000-08:00

Poet-On-The-Run Spring 2011 Edition

Feb 23rd - Urbintel's HerStory performs at Eastern Connecticut State University, WIllmantic, CT (3-7:30 PM)

Feb 27th - Black Latina Movement/AfroColombia poetry show Nuyorican Poets Café NYC, NY (6-7:00 PM)

Mar 7th - Urbintel's HerStory performs at Long Island University, NYC, NY (7:30-9:30 PM)

Mar 13th - LATINOSNYC presents Women's Month Show, NYC, NY
Mar 18th - Women's Night of Poetry @ Vaudville Park 26 Bushwick Avenue Brooklyn, NY (8-9:00 PM $5 at door. Free for performers and youth under 18.)
Mar 26th - Urbintel presents Verses ft. HerStory cast, Nuyorican Poets Cafe, NYC, NY

Mar 31st - The Period Project - An Anthology on Menstruation Laguardia Community College E-Building Room E501. 31-10 Thompson Avenue, Long Island City, NY. Corner of Van Dam street. (7-9:00 PM)

Apr 1st-4th - NCLR's 13th Annual Book & Family Festival/Chicago Open Mic Tour, Chicago, IL

Apr 16th - Opening the Golden Gates of Literacy: A Benefit Dinner, Syracuse, NY*

Apr 29th - Alpha Chapter Banquet at Binghamton University (7:00 PM)

Apr - Urbintel's FreePoetry Day at Freeport High School, Long Island, NY**

Jun - Open Mic: An Urban Love Story, NYC, NY**

*Tentative, still working out the details

**Events confirmed just waiting on dates

HerStory & Open Mic: An Urban Love Story are both poetry infused plays, everything else is poetry =) and I'm still booking if you're interested.

Rise My Young Brothers

2010-10-21T14:21:00.000-07:00

Rise my young brothers

And meet your destinies head on

Don’t be swayed by the false promises

Found at the bottom of a bottle of Hennessy

Because, in case you didn’t drinking Incredible Hulks

Makes you neither incredible nor the hulk

Rise my young brothers

Understand that you worth

Cannot be measured in the number of women you body

Asses you tap or pipe you lay; measure

Your worth in the strength of your character

The love in your heart and the good that you do

Rise my young brothers

And stop playing nightly games

of Russian Roulette with you lives

on beaten city streets with dealers

who have nothing left to lose

You don’t want to be on the losing

Side of a deadly game

Rise my young brothers

And stop emulating Bigger Thomas

Looking for freedom in blood stained hands

Running endless laps within the four walls

Of a self built cage; while tourists are shuttled

Through your hood to gawk at you

Like lions in a concrete jungle

Rise my young brothers

And take your thrones as kings

Instead of living life as peasants

Pacing the streets looking for your inspiration

In a Jim Jones track; Might I suggest

The likes of Dread Prez or Black Star

Rise my young brothers

And break the cycle of fatherless sons

Man-children raising themselves to

Hate the women who love you;

Silently blaming them for your solitude

And strife

Rise my young brothers

And understand that police interactions

And criminal behavior are not the norm

And that the life expectancy of men-of-color

Can rise with the very changes you decide

To make

Rise my young brothers

And say fuck you to the low-standards

That have been set for you and achieved

By your forefathers; witness yourselves

Exceeding the expectations of those

Around you

Rise my young brothers

For the love I have for you is deep and true

And if you have never felt loved before

Allow yourself to feel it now. For I,

Am your mother, your sister, your guide

Your mentor, your friend

How Many Mics?! A Poetic Tour of Los Angeles, CA

2010-10-09T23:56:00.000-07:00

Sunday Oct. 10th
11am "The State of Poetry: Using Words to Inspire & Incite" - Latino Book & Family Festival Cal State University Los Angeles

1pm "Story Time with J.F. Seary" - Latino Book & Family Festival Cal State University Los Angeles

6pm "Wasted Afternoons" at Silver Lake Lounge 2906 West Sunset Blvd Los Angeles, CA

9pm "The Crimson Spot" 5755 Rodeo Road Los Angeles, CA*

Monday Oct. 11th
9pm "Back to the Grind" 3575 University Avenue, Riverside, CA

Tuesday Oct 12th
8pm "Da Poetry Lounge" (Greenway Court Theater) 544 North Fairfax Blvd Los Angeles, CA

Wednesday Oct 13th
7:30pm "Open Mic" at Tribal Café 1651 West Temple Street Los Angeles, CA
Highland Grounds 742 North Highland Hollywood CA*

*These locations are maybe... hit me up for more info

Schedule of Upcoming Performances

2010-08-11T11:05:00.000-07:00

Thurs Aug 19th 7pm - 4am
The Most Beautiful Party of the Summer
Katra Lounge 217 Bowery, New York, NY
Cover: $10 before 9pm

(I do not know what time I am going on yet)

Mon Aug 23rd 7:30-9pm
Orientation Event/Introduction to Cultural Resources

Yale University, New Haven, CT
More details to come

Thurs Sept 2nd time TBD
Performance at James Madison University
Harrisonberg, VA
More details to come

Sat Sept 4th 7:00-9:00pm
Education = Our Future
Nuyorican Poets Café
236 East 3rd Street NY NY
Cover $10

(please bring school supplies)

Thurs Sept 15th-Oct 4th
Teatro Latea present "King Lear"
teatro Latea/Clemente Soto-Velez Cultural Center
107 Suffolk Street, NY NY
Tickets will be available on www.smarttix.com

Sat Oct 9th-15th
Latino Book & Family Festival (Panelist)
Cal State University, Los Angeles

Los Angeles Open Mic Tour
Various locations in the greater Los Angeles area

(more information to come)

Freewrite Poetry Fun

2010-05-08T17:41:00.000-07:00

Fuck you car alarm

Only you have the power

To break my concentration

your incessant beeping

ringing and ticking is

keeping me from my life's work

How sensitive can you be?

That any motion, sound or look

Can trigger that awful noise.

How quickly the ringing travels

the distance up to the fourth floor

See, I came here to write a poem

of length and theme, I wasn't sure

But knew and planned to fulfill it

Before walking out of that door

And, as if in perfect synchronicity

Every time my pen caresses the paper

You clamor for my attention

Well... what is it that you want from me?

I'm all eyes and ears and heart

I'm listening very carefully

So that I do not miss one part

Of the lover's quarrel, you've had

With every passing sound

I sit here waiting woefully

Perhaps, this will be the last round

Of your ringing sirens, alerting and

distracting me from my greatest

Task today. Oh, I beg for you

To take a break - or that your

Battery dies; my pen sits

lonely and untouched

its ink filled with longing cries.

Wait.. what's that?

Oh, bless your heart. You responded

to my pleas and silenced yourself

Long enough for my pen to tease

this page

Waiting

2010-05-05T17:22:00.000-07:00

I waited

Waited until the seconds became minutes

Minutes became hours

Hours became days

I waited

Waited until the days became weeks

Weeks became months

Months became years

I waited

Waited until my hair grew passed my shoulders

Until it turned from brown to gray

and watched it fall like a light rain

I waited

Waited until my hunger turned to pain

and that pain turned to anguish

Until the food became a memory

I waited

Waited as my body became emaciated

brown skin clinging to white bone

veins protruding

I waited

Waited until the youthful beat of my heart

slowed to the pace of a snail in a race

until the blood in my veins thickened

I waited

Waited until my throat dried

and became a desert from which my songs

would no longer sing

I waited

Waited to hear your voice again

Waited for those loving words

To make love of my soul again

Silence

2010-04-27T16:45:00.000-07:00

I stood in the heavy pouring rain

as your rejection pierced my skin

passing sirens could not break

the silence; yet they allotted for

a shade of clarity of something

I had been painfully unaware of

my disintegrating body unflinching

I could explode, before your eyes

so that you might bear witness

to the truest extent of my love

everything has been wrapped up

in you

I went with no expectations

Only the knowledge that I

needed to reveal my true self to you

there I stood, at your doorway

words prepared, you stood there

my heart leaped and fluttered

you stood there

lips parted ready to release a wave

of emotion, you stood there

you stood there and watched me die

I... I... thought that you where false

Hearing you say that you would not

acknowledge or accept my love

there I was, ready to confess it anyway

Untitled

2010-04-27T16:41:00.000-07:00

My heartbeat is but a soft whisper

in the absence of your love

You move in the shadowed

memories of my mind

I call your name in my sleep

As thoughts of you dance

atop piano keys pulling

on the marionette strings

of my dreams

I long for your skin to kiss

once again, you are gone

you hide yourself from my eyes

and heart; living only in

the recesses of my mind

Vengeance

2010-04-27T16:28:00.000-07:00

Venom flows through

my rigid veins

as the pace of my heart

races sending

pulses of poison

through my body

I want to spit

I stand here awaiting

the moment that I can

puncture your flesh with

fatal fangs

inject and infect you

with my diseased love

my poisonous soul

everything

black

I am pure darkness, night

evil lurking

behind brick walls

steam rises from my mouth

as I exhale into the cold

and dark night

I am pure evil and

I will destroy you

I will make you pay

for every sleepless night

every bruise, every moment

of fear; I will wait for you

I am fire and I intend

melt your flesh

as I grip your skin

I want to hear you scream

I want to hear that final

crack in your voice

that skates the border

of a proud man unwilling

to project weakness to

the high-pitched screams

of pure fear. yes

I want to torture you

to prick your flesh

pour finely granulated salt

into your open wounds

I want to make you feel again

as if you had never felt before

I want you to beg

crawl on your hands and knees

drenched in my sweat, beg

beg for my mercy

Beg until I scald your tongue

with the red-hot poker of my words

I'll brand your skin with my insignia

because you have become my bitch

I want to hurt you

I want to embody and evoke your

greatest fears; so that you might be

forced into an insomniacs deluge

My cackle with echo in your mind

as you try to free yourself

from the nightmare

that I have created for you

I want you dead

I want you gone from earth

so women can once again

roam free and safe

through the city streets

The Evolution of Hate

2010-04-26T15:17:00.000-07:00

“That’s wild gay” …

Whatchu mean Miss?

I think that’s gay and you can’t tell me how to think

You see I’m a man

and even though I’m only 15 years old

I know I’m a man; my father raised me right

And its cool that I only see him every couple of months

Because when I do see him he always teaches me what’s right

Like how to be a man

Like how to kick someone’s ass if they fuck with me

Like how gay goes against my religion

And even though I haven’t been to church

Since Tio Chuchi died and I ain’t never read the bible

Cause… the truth is reading is a waste of my time

And I know its true because it’s wrong you see

And you wrong tryna tell me what to think

I ain’t got no problems with no faggots

As long as they don’t act all gay around me

And try to touch me cause you know they do that

Then we cool you know, so stop telling me

That I’m speaking hate; I don’t hate nobody

Unless they try to press me then we gon’ have a problem

So you see… I ain’t got no problems I need you to help me with

Well… maybe there’s one thing you could help me with

But nah what was I sayin’?

Look, I just don’t like any type of gay

Especially, these gay chicks… some of them wanna be men

And what they don’t see es que aqui aye hombre

And they should leave that shit at home; cause truth be told

I could set her straight real fast

And you keep telling me there’s a lesson I need to learn

But I already know everything I need to know

See I got a plan – once I’m done with this high school shit

I’m gonna get me a job, buy me that whip… and then sit back

As the flows keeps coming and coming… yes

So keep your lessons to yourself Miss

I don’t’ give a shit who Matthew Shepard or Brandon Teena

or Harvey Milk are; and I don’t care much if their dead

Cause my boy Tony is dead too and nobody gives a fuck about him

If they’re gay they probably deserved it fucking around with

Straight men and so what if anyone in this room might be gay

See that’s the problem right there; might be, like they don’t know

Like they confused. They need to realize they chose a life of misery

Cause it’d be all too easy for them to walk a straight line

(sucks teeth) there you go telling me I’m talking hate

Well what kinda hate is this?

The spray painting the word faggot on your locker type of hate

Maybe it’s the snicker behind your back

When you sway your hips in my face type of hate

Nah I know, it’s the school canceled prom cause you wanna

Bring your gay date type of hate

Or it could be that time your father tried to beat the gay out of you

To make you a real man type of hate

It could also be that pull your pants down in a dark alley

And rape the gay out of you type of hate

What about that group of guys that jumped you at the party

It could be that type of hate too

I know, its when I spit on your limp body laying on the street

After I kicked your ass type of hate

A bullet to the head type of hate

The reason hate-crime laws exist type of hate

Yeah yeah yeah… I got you Miss

But its all good though

Because all them gay niggas know betta

Than to fuck with me

Justice

2010-04-18T16:22:00.000-07:00

Was it justice

When you took flight with my heart

clutched in your talons; only to

crash land in ecstasy?

Was it justice

when I begged and pleaded

with you a silent listener

one tear shy of drowning myself?

Was it justice

when I collapsed

after being inundated with your love

a great wave of emotion?

Was it justice

When you caved in my chest

shattering what was left of

my once restless soul?

Was it justice

when you silenced me; took

my very words, turned them

into flesh piercing daggers?

It Is You

2010-04-18T16:12:00.000-07:00

This romance has become

a violent tornado of which

the two of us are victims

Our minds have made fools

of our hearts by entangling them

in wicked games of love

A delicate balance of energy

flows between us; the magnetism of

holding you and being repelled from you

You have unlocked the secrets

of my heart; Now I lay naked

as my body tells your tortured stories

Finally, having freed myself from your grasp

Your inevitable return would consume

my mortal thoughts

Your words became the sweet melody

that recaptured my heart; In love again

I am a willing participant in your game

Our story unknown to the world

would consume us both with

expectation and disappointment

Our hearts trip over each other

like uncoordinated feet trying

to master a sweetly complex danza

I feel you in every cell of my body

You are there; every step

every breath, every sight, every memory

I am in a conflicting state

of chaos and bliss; a state

to which I am painfully addicted

I'd rather have you in small daily doses

than consume you all at once in moments

too few and far between

I am nothing. I stand here empty

vacant, defeated, your brand of love

batters my tender soul

I want not of food or shelter or

companionship. I would write in

secret, to have you by side eternal

Though the flame of our love

Would leave us in ashes I would give you

anything, everything. All that I am it is yours.

It is you

Matrilineal (the essentialized pantoum of ourselves)

2010-03-30T10:07:00.000-07:00

My love is like the wind
Jordan is born
My mother cries
Fearless

Jordan is born
Motherhood
Fearless
Quincañera

Motherhood
Coffee
Quincañera
Borinquen

Coffee
Music
Borinquen
My home

Music
Dreams
My home
Visitacíon

Dreams
My mother cries
Visitacíon
My love is like the wind

**was born at an Acentos Workshop

Boricution Artists at "One Mic" @Hacienda-40C Video by One Mic Nite(™) @RadioStar - MySpace Video

2010-03-13T17:31:00.000-08:00

Boricution Artists at "One Mic" @Hacienda-40C Video by One Mic Nite(™) @RadioStar - MySpace Video

La Llorona, 3.12.09

2010-03-12T13:56:00.000-08:00

For the Women of Juarez

Listen… hear my cry

I have lost my child

He has wandered into the desert

He, lost himself among men

He, found himself among men

He, forgot how to love his mother

He, had no hair to mark his age

He, was a child, now transformed into a monster

His muscles swelled

His teeth sharpened

His grip tightened

His skin perspired

His mouth salivated

He licks his hungry lips

Secretly trained in the art of misogyny

Mi’jo, I have lost you

What is a mother without her child?

There is darkness now, where my son used to sit

Listen… hear my cry, it pours like the rivers

I wander night to night, rom every pore of

Of my vacant and wilted body, searching

Listen… hear my cry

I have lost my child

She, has wandered into the desert

She, lost herself among men

She, was just a girl

She, had never been kissed before

Her breasts were barely full

Her hair worn in a school’s braid

Her eyes were chocolate kisses

Her skin was sun kissed brown

She felt his steaming breath on her skin

She winces as his claws grip her arms

Her skin begins to burn with every gash

Her nipples were gnawed off her breasts

Her vagina was shredded

She, cried out for her mother

Her womb would never carry a child

Her heart ceased to beat

Mi’ja, I have lost you

What is a mother without her child?

There is darkness now, where my daughter used to sit

Listen… hear my cry, it pours like a the river

I wander night to night, from every pore of

My vacant and wilted body, searching

March 2010 Performance Calendar - UPDATED

2010-02-18T08:16:00.000-08:00

Thank you for your continued support in my growth as a performing artist!!! See calendar below... there may be some adjustments to the calendar, I will send those updates as I get them.

Monday March 1st 6:30p
Poets & Writers Cross-Cultural Reading
at Cave Canem
20 Jay Street, Brooklyn NY

Tuesday March 9th 7p
Tato Laviera Tribute
Nuyorican Poets Cafe
236 East 3rd St, b/w Aves B & C NY NY
cover $7

Friday March 12th 7p
Femicide Art Show
Abrazo Interno Gallery: Clemente Soto Velez
Cultural Educational Center
107 Suffolk Street, New York, NY 10002

Thursday March 18th
Palabras Poetry Showcase
Binghamton University
More information to follow

Saturday March 20th 6:30p
Yes We Can!/Latinos NYC
Nuyorican Poets Cafe
236 East 3rd St b/w Aves B & C NY NY
Cover: TBA

Friday March 26th 6:00p
LoveMiOnline Glorious Sex Showcase

Nightingale Lounge

213 2nd Avenue (@ E 13th Street) NY NY

Cover $15

Saturday March 27th 6:30p
Latinas: Let's Get It Straight
La Pregunta Arts Cafe

1528 Amsterdam Avenue NY NY

Cover $8

Saturday March 27th 10p
Urbintel presents Verses w/ Helena D Lewis
featuring the HerStory cast
Nuyorican Poets Cafe
236 East 3rd St b/w Aves B & C NY NY
Cover: TBA

Tuesday March 30th 7p
Celebrate Cesar Chavez 2010
Nuyorican Poets Cafe
236 East 3rd St b/w Aves B & C NY NY
Cover: $7

If I Could

2010-01-20T16:33:00.000-08:00

If I could teach the world religion
I would say that I have seen God's face
in the eyes of children and heard His
voice in their laughter

If I could teach young women
the true meaning of beauty
I would take the mirror from their faces
and hold it up to their hearts

If I could teach my father pain
I would show him my bruised soul
the one I used to shield my mother
after she had become his punching bag

If I could I would teach humanity love
I would allow them to discover it
in the sound of my mother's voice
and see it in the look of my mother's face

If I could teach adults to look upon
the world as children do;
playing in curiosity and discovering
the very beauty of - what is

If I could teach myself to love again
I'd look for it in the depths of my heart
I would learn to be brave enough
to share it with you tonight

If I could teach the world how to love
I would take orphaned children
and protect and nurture them
in my vacant womb

If I could I would teach the world that man
is my brother and woman is my sister
I would teach that loyalty is rooted in unity
that together we can coexist in hope

If I could I would teach the world
that labia are not meant to be sewn
clitorises not meant to be cut and
honor not meant to be taught with showers of acid
on a young bride's face

If I could I would teach man
that an act of violence upon my sister
is an act of violence upon me and
I refuse to be the subject of that violence any longer

If I could I would teach the world
that the blood coursing through my veins
also runs through the veins of the children of the Diaspora
and that I see Haiti when I look into the mirror

If I could teach the world empathy
I would ask that we not look upon our lives in woe
But instead see the power bestowed upon us
to aid the world in change

If I could I would teach the world
that every moment, good or bad
has brought you here; to this very place
to share in this unique moment

Mujeres Latinas Somos

2009-10-01T17:13:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-01T14:48:00.000-07:00

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"

2009-08-13T14:44:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-05T14:53:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-01T14:53:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-01T12:00:00.000-07:00

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...

Hottest In Da Hood Remix #28

2009-07-31T18:00:00.000-07:00

(for my students- yes I spent time on this lol)

And their minds think on X6

When you're in the 9th grade (ask about me)
When you're in the 10th grade (ask about me)
When you're in 11th grade (ask about me)
When you're in the 12th grade (ask about me)

I'm the hottest teacher in the hood x4

I'm the academic queen call me sire
Day after day light the class on fire
Gettin' a li'l eager to see them aspire
Now we in room 410 where work is my hobby
Without my glasses on I can't see nobody
Damn li'l guppies gotta get new hobbies
Up against the world I won't lead them astray
Work hard for my students and I get paid (what else?)
But money ain't the reason I stayed (what else?)
Tatoos make my dudes feel gnarly
Tatoo their minds with college degree-zy
Ask about me, school game tighter than Jeezy
My intellect is taller than Weezy
Determined to win homie I ain't losin'
Everyday in the halls yellin "keep it moving"

And their minds think on and their minds think on x3

I'm the hottest teacher in the hood x4

Yes Seary's back, ain't none greater
NiccNasty knows the deal, he won't be a hater
E-Bundles sees the girls yeah he be lookin'
JustBlaze gets the grades there's no disputin'
They wanna drive the Accord, Sear says maybe
You know they all wish they were born in the 80s
EdyFreko says that Seary's wavy
JeffStackz wants extra cred but he don't pay me
Damn it feel good seein' my students up on it
Dominoes delivered very pie ordered
Hood favorite queen, I'm an OG living in Harlem
Mike Bigavelle next to me her's taller
I make my students spin like the river over
I just got warm, the next class is groovy
Get your pencils today's quiz is a doozy

And their minds think on and their minds think on x3

I'm the hottest teacher in the hood x4

The Single Woman's Rant #27

2009-07-31T14:58:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-30T18:25:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-30T15:00:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-30T11:00:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-28T15:11:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-26T15:03:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-26T14:43:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-24T14:41:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-24T14:40:00.000-07:00

"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

2009-07-24T14:38:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-21T14:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-18T14:34:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-17T14:33:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-14T14:32:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-13T14:31:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-13T14:16:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-10T14:14:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-08T14:11:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-08T14:09:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-07T14:05:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-06T14:03:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-02T14:02:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-01T13:57:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-01T13:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-01T11:55:00.000-07:00

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

2009-02-16T12:17:00.000-08:00

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

Letter of Love

2009-02-10T13:43:00.000-08:00

Dear Erica,
See I had to write you this love letter,
because at the time I knew
that communicating with you
in the moment would not have been
the most effective way for me to share
with you my point-of-view

See, as I sat at my desk and
listened to you discuss Chris Brown's
not-so recent arrest for assaulting Rihanna
my heart began to pace uncontrollably
"She probably came out her face," you said
"She pushed him to the limit," you said
"Some girls get hit," you said
and as you giggled and laughed

I knew that a move on my part
could have only resulted in
me coming out of my skin
and be forced to break on you

I bit my tongue as your classmates joined in
"guys beat on girls and girls beat on guys," they said
"that's just the way it is today," they said
"I know if a guy hits me, I'm hittin him back," she said
"Uh, I don't hit girls, but if she come out her face," he said
and I knew that a move on my part
could have only resulted in
me coming out of my skin
and be forced to break on you

I began to breathe deeply as you teacher
tried to share with you another view
"you old school Miss," you said
"girls don't think like that no more," you said
"I know a girl that doesn't come to school
when she gets hit," you said
And I knew that a move
on my part could have only result in
me coming out of my skin
and be forced to break on you

So I took a step forward
and I took a step back
as visions of blackened and bloodied
faces swirled inside my mind
and childhood memories of
hiding in closets hands covering ears
I knew that I loved you
I realized that I had to love you
and confront the violence
that you have grown so comfortable with

So I write you this letter, not in anger but in love
because our sisters must be loved
and our brothers must be loved
and our children must be taught
that violence will no longer be spelled
L-O-V-E

I Am Poetry

2008-09-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

I am pen to paper
Illustrating metaphors
I am the barely dry ink
before the pen meets paper again

I move about your body
As blood carries me like oxygen
to your mind
My journey from mind to hand
then exiting from your mouth

I am the alarm that wakes you
in the middle of the night
with haunting images from
someone else's dreams

I am your wild heart
beating rapidly
thump thump thumping reminders
for you to stop - and think

I am the Asian monk riding the subway
the child staring back at you
the sharp, shrieking, sirens of the ambulance
in your neighborhood

I am pain
the pain in your joints
reminding you that time is a concept
you haven't quite figured out yet

I am the sun reminding you to work
the moon reminding you to sleep
the image you hide from as you
race passed the mirror

I am every gray hair
every wrinkle
every flaw

I am page after page
in your journal
the unfinished business on your desk
the neglected alarm when you hit snooze

I am the thing you just remembered that you forgot
the empty promise of writing it down
from flicker, to flame to wild fire
Burning you from within

I
am
poetry

Poverty

2008-08-03T14:06:00.000-07:00

I saw a child sleeping on the street today
He was no more than nine or ten
I passed him on my way to see
A sight of wonder and beauty
He lay on the ground within a gated monument
Wearing a dirty pair of shorts and shirt
It was midday as he lay
Undisturbed by tourists taking photographs

I saw another child today
Sitting on an abandon building's stoop
Barefoot, his eyes were swollen almost shut
As he begged for money from passersby
No one gave him a second glance 'cept me
I didn't reach into my pocket for fear
That he might be baiting me
For some larger fish's attack

I saw yet another child sleeping on the street today
Amazed at how the crowds walked by
As if this was a common sight to see
I stopped and wondered where his mother was
Where all the mothers were, but in my heart I knew
Having just read an article on the epidemic of abandonment
In Bahia and now I'm faced with proof

I just received my quiche and coffee
Having lost my appetite, wondering how to help
The two small children forced to leave my hotel
For trespassing and playing in the pool
A New Yorker born and raised
In this city homelessness is a mainstay
A minor inconvenience
Seldom getting in your way
Except when polluting your subway car
or begging for the change
You don't intend to give
As you look down and wait for him to pass

Never a child do you see
Begging in a subway car or sleeping on the street
Yet, you've seen nothing until you've seen
A human being rummaging
Through someone else's trash
Alongside stray cats and dogs
All searching desperately for something to eat

Poetry

2008-05-15T11:29:00.000-07:00

Poetry
Is the thing
That awakens you
In the midst of a long night
Beckoning you to more hours
Of frenzied writing
Attempting to capture it all

Poetry is a wild animal
You attempt to tame it
Perhaps make it your prey
It is devilish and sly
escapes your almost grasp
And winks at you, provoking another game

Poetry is a war between your heart and mind
For control of your every action
While your soul tries desperately in vain
To keep the peace

It is poetry that violently burns inside your stomach
Physical convulsions causing you to regurgitate
An endless string of painful memories

It is poetry when little girls test the threshold
Of their tolerance for pain with sharpened blades
Or sear their skin with lit cigarette butts
Then mask their pain with long sleeved shirts

No, see I know it was poetry
That found you lying naked as a child
Invading every orifice until you
Were filled with poetry

Poetry lights the day and awakens you
From sleep deprived nights; it is the hot
Streaming water that beats you awake
So that you may start your day

Poetry is an emergency, an urgent call of duty
For your which only you can report
It commands you to write the lines
And tell the story

Poetry doesn't ask your permission
It doesn't ask, "Is this a good time?"
Poetry is rude and foul, it doesn't make
time for you and could care less if you're busy

It is poetry looking back at you
When you face the mirror
It is poetry that graces your skin, fills your heart
And forces you to accept yourself

Poetry does not take rejection lightly
It will haunt your dreams, disrupt your thoughts
It is poetry knocking on your door
Calling on your phone
Waiting for you to answer

Declaration of Liberation

2008-01-01T10:30:00.000-08:00

When in the course of human events
it becomes necessary for women
to dissolve the emotional, physical
and financial bonds that have
connected us to any man
and assume a new position in society
One which the laws of nature's goddess
has entitled us
that we should today declare to the world
the causes that impel us to take such a course

We hold these truths to be self-evident
We are true goddesses and have been endowed
by our creator with certain inalienable rights
and among these are the right
to control our own lives, to affirm our liberty
and the right to pursue our own happiness

Whenever any relationship becomes destructive
and after repeated injuries to
the heart, the body and the soul
it is the right of those who suffer under it
to take the necessary steps to free our selves

This is me being free

freeing myself of the weight
of engagement rings, apartment hunts
and false promises

freeing myself from you
years after our break up
by admitting that I still love you
and walking away

free to go to battle
with my students everyday
to give them what their world won't
and remind them of what their parents don't

free from the restraints of motherhood
and other such womanly obligations

free to color outside of the lines
think outside of the box and
measure my worth in passport stamps
as opposed to dress sizes

free to love myself
like no one else can

my heart, body and soul
here on this stage
I invite you to take it

This is being free

We liberate ourselves from you
We liberate ourselves from hate
We liberate ourselves form violence
We liberate ourselves from ignorance

We liberate ourselves sistas

We
Liberate ourselves

There are no chains on our hearts
When we smile in a world we create
with our words we remind others
that we are
free

Para Las Mujeres de Juares; Ni Una Mas (2007)

2007-11-01T09:57:00.000-07:00

For five dollars a day
you can drop out of school at sixteen
drop into a full time job
and bid your dreams goodbye
you can hold a factory job
buy a ticket to your future
forget the look of daylight
you can don a uniform
drenched in sweat
while you unwillingly compete
with other girls for the unwanted
affections of your floor supervisor
you can out earn your parents
forget your mother's face
emasculate your father
leave your sisters with no one

for five dollars a day
you can be touched, fondled, harassed
leave work feeling dirty and impure
you can live in fear as one by one
women continue to disappear
you can avoid looking
as your pale and sunken face
in the mirror
kiss your mother goodbye
as your childhood becomes
a distant, faded memory
your restless soul longs for
you can forget fairytales of love,
living happily ever after
having a family of your own
you can look into the eyes
of another girl who looks just like you
who you will never see again
you can pretend to be the girl
en el otro lado
that lives the life
you only dream about

for five dollars a day
your parents can sit in a precinct
sobbing, full of fear and longing
waiting for their number to be called
your picture can hang from a telephone pole
in the company of the posters
of other missing girls
you can be raped, beaten and tortured
your mangled body
left to fester in the desert
you can lose your spirit
lose your energy
lose your life

La Operacíon

2000-02-16T09:30:00.000-08:00

Can you hear
The silent sobs of
Babies crying?
A generation lost

Mass genocide of our future
They talk in whisssss-pers
No one knows them
Hundreds of thousands of
Singers, writers, teachers, doctors, politicians, poets
Madres, padres, hermanas, amantes y amistades

Look
Into their faces
40 years of women robbed
40 years of girls destroyed
40 years of bodies scarred
40 years of memory loss

Doctors on salary
Preying on los pobres
Prescribing sterilization for the poor
Carving up innocent wombs
Praying that mothers
Never learn of their
Crimes against humanity

Generations of Boricuas gone
Generations of Puertorriqueños wiped out
Generations lost with the swift swipe
of tainted scalpels

Look to your left
Look to your right
We are here

The voices of the living
The minds of the thinking
The spirits of a new collective
It is through us that
The souls of these unborn children
Survive