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Friday, December 31, 2010

I Know How Gregor Felt: Cockroaches and Brown Buffalo

I know how Gregor felt, obsessed by Beauty,
the Picture on the Wall evermore Real
than Brittle joints of Legs that aren't ours;
one day upon waking, they're Part of us
along with a Carapace and shrieking
sounds. No, not so Loud but discernible
as Buzzwords, Insect Lingo, Ya estufas!
What matters anyway asked el Pachuco?
Life has no Value, no vale Nada
la Vida. Enter el Anthropollywog
flashing signs of its MentalGhettoWorld:
Our liberal Values have made us Sublimer
"Such Experts are biased toward Cockroaches!"
the Brown Buffalo once more objected.

A storm inside of Poetic rain.

A storm inside of Poetic thunder--
She gave it to me disguising as Quaint
Emily Emily Dickinson, my Saint.
I hobble when she IceSkates. I'm Infirm
am I? PLaying it Shy? Or worse of all
ashamed? I am not Normal and so what?
My mother loves me and my Father's Will
taught me to accept these Difficulties
as Usual. Now where to go for Freedom
from Sorrow, Indignities of the Hard
against a Soft Child without venom?
Courageous by Letters, Silken Graceful
resolution: By my Word, I will
dignify my Verse with these Examples.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

2010 I'm not Done with You: Walls are nothing to a ladder

Two thousand and ten, I'm not done with you.
Don't go away, stay a few minutes
longer, let's take a look:  What's done is done-
that's true and can't be changed admit
it as I do. Imperfections, regrets,
crimes of humanity, torment,
suffering, misogyny, hate that spreads
like wildfires. WTF does
not suffice (sorry? zorrillo!) Treaties
again? What good are those to us
who have no boundaries for our love and joy,
hope and faith and community
that crosses borders and inhabits them?
Walls are nothing to a ladder.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Our vs. can set us Free, Young Bards

Our verses can set us Free, young bards,
Youths in Song, no matter our DOB.
We are new in one another. There's no
age. The worth of Time is only gained when spent.
You see what I mean? Unhappy people
will tell us that our rhymes are wasted efforts;
that we have so many features of what
we are....People of Hearts and souls and Mouths!
Alas when they are at Odds, they reveal
the most important bits of being mashed
with desires and aggravations
into a Feeling... Poets! Spinning Tops!
Forward or Reverse--it makes no Difference.
Seamos Trompos Poeticos.

The Fantastic Realidad of Historical Rhythms 2010

Take out your Note Pads! Anthropologists!
Quote me this time, Primate Sibling, Brotha~~
this Female Subordination~~I'm turning around.
I can spin, spin Hay into Gold. I'm Numerate
in Pentameter. Watch me if you Can.
I'm from the Tribe of Esther and Juana,
Nezahualcoyotl, poet's philosopher,
el que Vio lo vio Antes que Nadie,
mi General Villa, el de mi Abuelo,
Ramon Vazquez, Ejido Seis de Octubre,
Satelite la Ciudad Juarez. Yos soY
Poeta Encargada por una Sirena
del Dios Sol Ke Kuel Guien su Mal Ritmo
Humanidad, que se despierte.

I had a Dream: I will Protect that Dream

I had a Dream, and in it I wasn’t
their Minority hire, the Diverse
Décor, a percentage, a formula.
But I was me, sincere and empowered,
a PhD learning everyday.
I had a Dream, and it was that broken
I wouldn’t be, lost, or without family.
The credit I earned would be mine for good.
Some say that no matter what happens to
us…no matter what’s taken away, none
can erase or defeat our knowledge gained.
I had a Dream--its old, its new, its Mine!
Whatever my Oppressors do to me,
men or women, I will protect that Dream.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

The Fate of Delilah was Never Writ: Write It, J.Harper

BTW, that's a very powerful 
title, _________ . The pain, inert,
and the inertia (and pain) of authoring
this book will be eased by you, revolver
of knowledge, who suffers for her worth,
who walks the path of injuries, abuse,
perceived the profound depth of the ingrate's
degrees!  How enormous is the truth girth
of women who propel the spinning globe,
who calculate the orbit of our Earth...
 When Samson's hair was severed,
and rubble the only remnants, how explain 
Delilah, and by what sheer interventions
speak your rationale and modus operandi?

And I am Simply here to Translate for Her: a good person, a child, a mother, mi Madre.

It is not I, Edith, who says it. --Don’t you see?
I am listening to the Ears speak. They do!
They too have a language, la langue du Verso
that Sings when it’s bid and answers on its knees
and whispers to the scarlet leaves plashed
along the face of Mother Earth. Only she knows
this verse. The Wanderer, Ovid, and Sor Juana,
her humblest servants and her devoutest.
Mother surpassed them all for what she gained
through the ravages of poverty. She earned
her freedom from greed's passions, mi Madre
who with harshest deprivations was pained.
She has so much to say that she murmurs,
and I'm only here to translate for her.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Lambasting the Misogynist Critic: Minerva to the DryHeads

He walks with a projectile placed inside
his pompis. It wags when full of la Merde
of his thoughts. La peste gives you perpetual
asco.  He's the specialist on Plaintive
Arts, ha ha. Funders are awed with his cold
stare: Culturacidal, that's them, the Rapists
Seducers, Philanderers of Knowledge,
quite conversational with Aesthetics--
Not so fast, It has its plusses! I bought
a remarkable basket of death, dug
up from the site of Pillaged Culture.
Material Reproduction what say you, Buffs
of Philosophy?--On second thought, won't
Bother. Theory could take us forever.

I will write of the Vain who Misused you, Verso soy testigo del delito

Muahhhh in unison spoke hhhhuaM--
censurers and investigators--lots
of B.S. to be quantified, described,
and deduced by the toddlers of Knowledge,
the liberales elitistas who force
Skepticism to its Knees in favor
of Cannibal labinnaC chauvism
while Sea Gall rides a tricycle when he
should change his Diaper que est que cset 
La merde de cet homme c'est venereal
omnipotence of small fish in sewage.
Ils sommes Inciviles Imbeciles.
Idolators who Satiate their Hate
by Surfeit of their Killjoy, false hombres.

Verse, I am not Vain to sing of glory.

Verse, I am not Vain to sing of glory.
I see your Face of Mercy and Beauty.
Your heart is in your Brow and balances
love of thought with love of humility.
In such a disappearance of Pride, what
tell you of Service to the Unworthy,
those who Raped innocent truth filthily
and in poor measure? What of the haughty
whose sins are a Perpetration of Sloth
of spirit? Of vacant sense and grossil-
oquence? Verse, you are my Refuge and Saint.
I, your child, your false copy, and yet certain
that my caste might sing your Traits and so better
itself by imitating your Glory.

How do I drop you without Gravity? (Quoted from the Film Inception)

Elegant word of adamantine grace,
of platinum sheen and celestial height
adorned for the few who value its gains.
I am taking this sonnet by surprise
and gaining high altitude. Hear my Sighs

How do I drop you without gravity?
How make you an Iamb of red and gold?
Housecleaning the memory of dust and mold,
I ask and in reply, a bleak bird squeeks.
Go! airborne inertia of slavish design!

I am in flight and my feathers are singed,
once and twice and five times. Rhythmic Rhymes
sounds that cross, pass, and entwine in my verbs,
I will I will I will land this line in good Time.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

a Sexual Harasser getting Past

It begins with a phrase--a conundrum
of Sound--there's no One getting out of here
without Declaration. I have These--my
rights to Refusal at any moment 
in Time. I'm not here to be Inspected.
You're a Poor Loser from first Glance.  You're not 
a Candidate. (NOT a Chance) You're an Ass
unworthy Accessor. My ACCESS I
retain and my Rights to my Freedom, Oaths
to my Introspectual Staminaes...
We all have our own Talents. Mine is Verse.
Yours are Lust, Gluttony, Power over
Negatives. You don't comprehend Consent?
You're a sexual harasser getting Past

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Celebrity News:Stalactite Dust Glitter in the Window Pane:

I gazed at you Radiant Dust Sparkle
in the wedge of a Curtain, magnifique
elegance, je n'e se quois, Palabrita,
que tal? Perfume de mi Memoria,
as a perfume my Memory I perceive
and innocent, the Imagination
announces its Entrance, Sudden
Poetic Papparazzi, Red Carpet
of my Fascination, HollyWorded
Media Espectaculo Sensacion Glitz;
I wanna say Something important as
Celebrity news, ol' Doctor Williams....
Imported Tropical Flowers in Glass:
of Radiance turned to Powder at Last.

Monday, December 20, 2010

"Be assured I will not rest until the DREAM Act is the law of the land" Barbara Boxer

"Be assured I will not rest until the DREAM Act is the law of the land" Barbara Boxer Dear Dr. Morris-Vasquez:

Thank you for contacting me regarding the Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors (DREAM) Act.  I appreciate hearing from you, and I share your support for this landmark legislation.

On December 18, 2010, efforts to pass the DREAM Act in the Senate were once again blocked.  I am deeply disappointed that we have once again turned our backs on some of our best and brightest young people who grew up in America, love America, and want to serve America.

I was proud to be a co-sponsor of this important bill that would have allowed an individual to qualify for legal status if he or she had lived in the United States for at least five years, graduated from high school, completed two years of college or two years of service in the U.S. armed forces, and demonstrated strong moral character.

Each year, thousands of immigrant students with good grades are denied college admission because of their immigration status.  Most of these young people had no choice in the matter, having come to the United States with their parents at an early age and spent a significant portion of their lives living in America.  The DREAM Act would have given these students a real shot at the American dream by providing them with a pathway to legalize their immigration status.

I commend the brave young men and women who have stepped forward at great personal risk to call America's attention to this injustice.  Be assured I will not rest until the DREAM Act is the law of the land.

Again, thank you for writing to me about the DREAM Act.  Please feel free to contact me in the future about this or any other issue of concern to you.

Barbara Boxer

United States Senator

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Senator-Dementors: Look at what Harry Potter did when the "Senators" were in charge of things.

Look at what Harry Potter did when the
"Senators" were in charge of things. They won't
conduct legitimate business, their Poor
governance led to Cover-ups.  P.R.,
and False Confidence led to Unneeded
delays in combatting Voldemort,
and then they work on the side when they dress
in Dementor Robes and seek Souls to Suck.
Oooh they are Disquieting for they work
security but their Security
can't be trusted. Their bureaucracy
always helps the Darkside and fails good
when they could succeed.  We all learn magic
by books. They major in Malevolence.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

We Dream of Dreams that remain Dreams: DreamLove.

The Quiet filled the room.  Maribel, Nick,
Perry, Ernie, Francisco, Jessica,
Lizette--we stored up our Sadness, didn't
dare to move or see or be heard, broke
our silence, and became Reserved, we heard
something tell us what It alone could tell us--
how can we find hope in Situations
that seem to Underline our Plight, BOLDFACE
it, and Engrave it in the Soul which Soul
has no Power of Diminishing, Soul Soul
that Swells with more Imagination; What
Defeat? When there is no Winning, nothing
can be Lost and Dreams are all that can be Had.
We Dream of Dreams that remain Dreams: DreamLove

Let's Stay Up Together and Wait on the Senators, Mi Amor

Let's stay up together and wait on the senators, Amor
How can we sleep when we have no justice?
Se nos durmio el gallo? WTF? And how about those
damn D.F.equeros, did they ever Flash any Sign?
Who are they? Espanoles Criollos sin Alma?
Our Puerto Rican siblings cared more for our Causa.
They signaled in the way that they do, Dance
forms are the Movements of Freedom of Art.
L'ars pour l'ars as they said in French. We speak
it rather Easily. So let's come on
French philosophers help us.  He did it
for you Touissant L'Overtoure...and see How
Haiti is paid today.  America,
get over Racism today today!

a Mi Gente mi Corazoncito

a Mi Gente mi corazoncito,
Bella! Mente! Libre! con Dignidad!
here we are, my dude's playing a Dead Prez
song. My mom's voice is in me: "llora
acabo no lloras sangre." Como
que no Jefa? Yo si llore sangre del Alma
y nada mas soy media de Su Fuerza,
media gringa, lo se bien. Yo sufro sufriere
por los ideales de la Juventud, soy Madre
y muchos mis hijos fueron mis Estudiantes,
escritores, poetas, Chicano Studies!
Que Viva! Que vivemos todos! Eh,
para que? Si alcabo la vida no vale nada.
Why do they force us to work for free hate?

Friday, December 17, 2010

John McCain as He Ran from the Dreamers

John McCain, as he ran from the Dreamers

John McCain, as he ran from the Dreamers,
had in mind the Senatorial Sirloin
Steak he'd be eating at the next 5 Star
Restaurant. All the cooks and staff wherein
shuffled to the beat of Rich appetites.
Dessert will include the Sweet Dreams of Youth:
they taste so Elegant when down they slide
past Tongues into the Throats with Vermouth
delicacy, delicious final dish
and a sip of Homophobic Liqeur.
Do drink and don't tell.  The working poor Wish
they Understood the language of Power.
Ooops! I better get going!  The Hopefuls
are near and the Dreamers with their Tassels!

SAY YES SENATORS: Spelling it Out

Sometimes there is no other side, Senate,
And they say that you are GentlePersons
Yet we believe only with great Caution.

Yes we do. For we are humble, and that
Example is foremost in our thinking
So we ask ourselves, "do they have feelings?"

So we ask ourselves, "do they have feelings?"
Every dreamer knows Laws are a barrier
Not the other way around. These greater
Aspirations known as Dreams are constant
Truths that humanize us. Hey Lawmakers--
Our Dreams are at the mercy of your Yay--
Real leadership makes it clear! These Dreams,
Senate, we've come far and wide to Reclaim.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Somewhere Over the Senate, Dreams Come True, Poverty is not Taxed, DADT Ends, and Lobbyists don't Make Laws

Somewhere over the Rainbow, Dreams come True.
The color Spectrum Infra to Ultra
is Free to be True to its Hue and Arc,
its Beautification of Celestial
proportion Outshines the Politician's
exCuses, his Shadow Constituents,
her Parlor Game Antics.  Worship me. Screw
you and Your Poverty. Twenty Thousand
dollars is what you Make? Unworthy Ones,
we need tax for our Deficit. Senate
Incarnate--that's Me. My own Private Set
is the evidence of my Superior
standing among us. We know how to have
fun with our Loopholes, Lobbyists, and Laws.

Racial Counterpoint to Legalize all Worthy Kids known as Dreamers, Dreamers.

Only race can explain the Senate's rock
and hard place. What other incredulous
theory can explain the force that shocks
the Mind and Heart of the Imaginable
Congress that they must out-convince themselves
that Dreams should not be set free? What other
Rationale but Color fits all the Rules
of procedure? There is just no Better
template than Indubitable Racism
to Deprive educated immigrants
with a Process of rightful Inclusion.
Only Dimensions of hate can Suffice
to stand as Counterpoint to Legalize
Worthy Youth known as Dreamers! as Dreamers!

Portrait of a Nightmare Senator : When Senators Call Each Other

Cauldron of poetry, I need a break.
I've been working almost as hard the
Senators on working vacations, Where's
tonight's Party? I'm booked for Happy Hour.
Ah, the Americans can hardly Afford
their Lobbyists anymore.  Besides, Free
trade must be Free and that's the Law, Clinton
said it was and Bush agreed and agreed
and agreed.  The only thing he disagrees with
is Counting all ballots. Oh well! What would
True representatives do with these Ideal
Parking spaces and government License
plates? They wouldn't enjoy them. You'll see:
I'll call up my Guy to see what he thinks

El jaguar cruza el mundo sagrado: For Naui de tenOChtitlan

El jaguar cruza el mundo sagrado
que lo hacen profano unos Seres
Feos que se llaman los Minutemen
y que tienen muy mala fama amaf alam
son Jodones sin sentido y sin conocimiento.
Somos ancianos, reyes y Poblanos,
pinTores en Palabra. Nezahualcoyotl,
duro de cabeza, sufrió decir que somos
Flores que desaperecerían en el tiempo,
Jaguar azul Viejo caminante y de Uñas
enormes y la Cara como un Melon
tan Grande como la Tierra. Jaguar de
los Medios Hablantes y Viventes!
Gracias por defender a nuestra Gente!

MN: Postcolonial Brother

I'm speaking with Freedom----ssseYess, soy
una de Aquellas, Sad Girl, Cry baby,
errrr, rhYming....come, do it with Me, Sonnet,
I brought along a Friend who betrayed me
and yet one with whose Dignity I spared
him. "I'm not afraid of your Dark Skin.
I am the Same as You, we are eQual,"
and I offered you a hug of Compassion
when I told you (him) I could not accept
Propositions. That's WAY OFF key.
<Dissonance in Difference> THEN, Dark-
ness emerged no not that of Conrad, wtf--
Postcolonial Brother's a Predator. Que
importa? Acuerdense que fue Tuuu
Sistema de manejar con Ambicion
una sistema racial subpoderante.
A un feo vivoron verde y Que!

I might sing a WiriLeaks Tune. hablo dos idiomas uno mejor

hablo dos idiomas uno mejor
que el otro, No it's not Spanglish.
Estaban alla en el Wiriwiri.
My Bowler's hat fits me so Far.
It is useful for spinnnnnning my Say, yo Soy
persona, valgo Igual por ser Indigena
del Poesia, a Platicatadora
con la Injusticia y la Indiferencia
del Planeto.  Oyes, gueyes, I am,
I am I am I am a Poet shamed
by Authority without Rhythmic Sense:
I begin with two and can learn Many
others. I might sing a WiriLeaks Tune.
As the Rooster crows, Why not I I I?

I cultivate a White Rose, Mi Don ser Poeta asi Como el tuyo ser Lector igual que Yo

I cultivate a White Rose, Mi Jose,
and I'm a Woman who knows her Don,
her Unwanted Inheritance, name,
thinking skin, propensities. La flor
de mi Abuela blanca, Edith, que
la guardo en su Libro de Poesia
que fue mi Primer Motivo, aullar
por mi Propio genero, la Mujer del
Poesia, cancion, Enflorecer y
besuquechetiando--just a Fleurish--
old American English unbritished,
colonials from all Four directions,
is what we Appear to Be, Holy
Vowelers, emPoderadas Poetas

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

el PoemeoP del Aullo Humano: Pestana Pachuca Palabra: Revolucion de Morfologia y de Sintacta

Pestana palabra, empiezo contigo,
Amor de parpados sedosos aluzan
azules. Esta es la Revolucion del ritmo.
Quien quiera la podra nombrar, ay que si!
Como fue? asi son las de AlasalA
y quales se asocian con las Aguas,
Abecedarias Coronelas de la Guerra
del enGenero, un Conflicto del Odio a el
Verbbo Construido por Vocales,
y odio a sus Sonidos  .   Coloniales en
VIvo son asquEllos miserables sin Alma
gueyes inalfabetos (y con estudio), mire
que si y al fin del acabo la vida no vale nada
mas vale el PoemeoP del Aullo Humano

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

The Biggest Foreclosure happens HEre in Language, GentleSenate

Language has value though some say it don't.
They're so ungrammatical in Dreamish,
they pile on Negative Integers
of expression. In fact, they're Illiterate.

They'd be good Subjects for Freud, case studies
of Paranormal Subservient Thought.
With their Preludes to Poverty Don't get
me started because they never Finish.

At least when I spin, I spin a Sonnet.
All they do is Tip the Balance to watch
the Building blocks of Knowledge toppling
with a silence they Cut with their Cackling.

Rude and Uncivil, these Banksters of Verbs,
Forms, and Figures. They Fail at Language

Oh Modern Era: Objectify, Corral, and Detain the Wild Horse of the Imagination.

I'm just gonna throw a few poetic forms
at you.  Iambic is Basic, that's Why
I use it. I mean Shakespeare--what was he
thinking? Selling out the Tradition just
for Applause, blood guts swords and princesses
gone Mad. He didn't invent everything
but he Knew how to Use it, a Polish
of Grace, of Ego, Pride, and Vanity
UnDamned and Increasing in its Paranoia
for wild untainted Evocative
Illusions and figures of Meaning. Oh
Modern Era, all this for one UrgegrU
to Objectify, Corral, and Detain
the Wild Horse of the Imagination.

Complaint to Shakespeare: When Romeo and Juliet's Child is born they Deprive her of Dreaming

So long as men can dream and eyes can see
so long lives this and this gives life to Me!
Shakespeare, its Plagiarized from Thee,
we have Reasons for such a Treachery
to you, Feeble Poet, you are Dead yo,
but I still want to Salute you (line three.)
You get where we are going. BTW
your plays are based on History as Drama,
of Powerful corruptsick Worms in Words..?
Ah William, you wouldn't Believe the Excuse
that is Given---Not only do they Keep
Romeo from Juliet, but when their Child
is born they Deprive her of the Dream
she will become one day a Citizen.

The Senate sonnet hybrid engine runs solar, vehicle of a Dream and Bystanders que huelen mal

The sonnet hybrid engine runs solar,
no odors or waste. All is Important.
The machinery is Intricate and Smooth,
an Unauthorized vehicle of a Dream.

I have a License to drive where I will.
In secret, I keep its Poetic run
off safe from the ByeByestanders who hate
freedom of expression. Those Poetists.

It's technological staff occupies
the Space of a Person and Mimics its
way Into full inclusion--No expressed
warranty. Besides, these are Whims not Rhymes.

That you keep your Humanity this Poem
is Concerned with It, Mssr's. Senators.

The Ink of my Pen Moves with the Rhythms of Freedom

I didn't want a prepositional phrase in the title.
so let's paste it somewhere near the Volta.
This is the Rhyme of Mad Reason, Passion,
I'm a Latina...You may have Noted
my Accentual Rhythm (my Official
Category, however Inaccurate.)
I'm a Native American by Birth
to my Beloved Mother de la Apacheria
who has Contributed to Poetics
for she Raised me and Birthed me by Fire
of language; the Reason I have such
a Particular color or Gait or Tendency
toward Self-Saturation: Through the Ink
of my Pen moves by the Rhythms of Freedom.

Educational Industrial Complex Mandates Boredom Officially

Ugh, how boring is Anger. It's so Hard
to Withstand or Outrun (so Spin It-
Turn it Over, reverse it ti esrever start
New. My 2nd grade Teacher had Wit
that I needed. She says, "let's learn ABC's
Backwards as well as Forward." Bless
her for that Big Clue at 7 Years Old.
Turning things over, Spinning them, What
grace of Nature we are Able to Be
without a Social Agenda. Out Political
Economy, Lobbyists, Perverse
Agents of Officialized Boredom! Pat--
a-Degree (Dude, I'm earning 100k plus
perks, Stationery that says I'm a Doctor.)

Casting Light on the Hearts of the Senators Movement from Rage to Hope

Am I a nationalist?  A Mexican?
What?  Hmmmm, I tell myself, I am Something
else, the Reason Races shouldn't Mix:
A Rebel without Fear of Expression.
A Toltec Saxon Chumash Norwegian,
according to those in the KNOW. I am
the Conduit of some Wide-Eyed Lovers
of Humanity for Humanity's
Sake and for no Other Reason but That.
We are Innovators of Dreams Forbidden
by Hate and Race Laws.  We are Offspring
of Grafts of Appeal one to Another,
We are Good People without any Ruses
and with Names that Will Carry This
Proud/Humble Declaration, I'm past my
my Limit and a bit Dizzy.
Identity is a Merry-Go-Round of Cells
and the Conscience Poetic EKG's
Required for Advancement. The Heart
is the First Source of Distribution. Take
Heart Cardiologists--(among Dreamers
there are Scientists. They're Americanized
and the Fresh First Fruit of their families.
Take Stock of your Heart, Senators.
Is there still Blood pumping in there somewhere?

En contra de la Delincuencia del RItmo.

Soy Macha por un lado, la Poeta Ser,
soy Idealista poeta Guerrillera en Palabra
mis Papas fueron Nezahuaycoyotl, Burns
(Roberto), Chaucer WTF, he was a Pilgrim
like me, an Immigrant, Anglo Saxon and Yet
there are Newcomers, financiers, CEO-es
gueyes sin Frijol de Moral y sin Conciencias
la mata y aparece una Mayor (oye tu Orisha,
Silvio Elegua Rodriguez CancionEros
Cubanos....ya tienen un Idea? o NO!!?
Si, HaY signos gramaticos que valen en el Mundo.
EL MUNDO tambien es de Nosotros Los Poetas
sin Miedo y sin Corrupcion, Poetas Maestras,
yo soy Ella, yo me Nomro una Macha
que no por Ciertas Razones se ha levantado
en Guerra de Palabra para Rescatarle
la Inocencia a la Nina Primavera que le dicen
Musa de America, La Senora de Juquila,
que nos ha Creado nuestra VidaadiV VozzoV,
La vida no vale nada Renuncia El
Apestoso estetico Racial y de la Delincuencia
del RItmo.  Callenme a ver si Podran Politicos
Ustedes sin Valor ni Dedicacion, por lo menos
los puedo pintar como titeros sin coRazon,
y que les ensenan a La Nacion MUY MAL
EJEMPLO de lo que es lo que le llaman un Sueno,
Fascistas de Dinero! Fuerzas Ajenas y en Fin
son Anti-Americanas las Medias de
Comunicacion. Y lo grito con orgullo que
a mi Abuelo le dio algo el hijo de un Hacendado.
No fue Peon como Nostoros, el General Villa.

Monday, December 13, 2010

By What Mathematics do they Compute a Dream a Negative?

By What Mathematics is Computed
the Dream a Negative? What Accounting
Lodger is resolved by Devastation
of the Spirit? What Science is applied
to Dissolve the Desire of Young Faith?
Why are Protocols being Perfected 
to Deny the Resources for Hope
embodied in the Student, her Heart's Quest?

By what Procedure does the Legislator
Disappear the Lived Example of Dreams
in Motion? Upon Wings of Love it Flies.
When did it become Normal and Legal
and Rational to Detest the Power
of the Mind to find itself Unfettered?

I exist yes I do I do I do.... I Dream

They don't like Poets cuz we Read Fine
Lines,..Yes, we do, we got Sonnets down too.
They're 14 lines traditionally and 10 beats.
I like that tune, Miles Davis, whatcha do-
in to my Self Dissatisfaction? Where
did you send it? I see  a Fleshy Cloud
moving North toward the Serrano Lands,
Beautiful Ancestors, Great Women, guards
of my Body and Mind who made a Mound
of Earth beneath my Dream of Self-Worth, for
Something more, an Education, Freedom
of Thinking, of Speaking, of Rhyme, of "I."
I exist yes I do I do I do....

Other Foes? They Hated Hope and so They Hate Dreams: Appeal to African-Americans

--They Said you Can't have Hope and Now they Add Dreams to That Rule

They hated Hope, and so they hate Dreams.
Unashamedly they abuse English,
the Language they Love. How sad for the One
that they Dislike. It is an Evil Code which
Wages this Movement of Force. Emotions,
these Feelings, these Self-Evident Powers--
which have Formed our Greatest Features,
Humanity, WTF, have we no
Spine? Where is our Heart? This Soul
Means so Much to that Imagination!
It was Invoked by the Poets, the Heralds,
by God, even the Prophets have Dreams!
How can we protect our Intelligence, Humans?
Or did we just sorta elapse like Other Foes?

Insensate Power of the Congress

It's not what is Said or what's Visible
that Waits at the Door of Powerful Guise,
that just needs a Trigger, a Turn-of-Phrase,
to Register meanings: Rich, Able, Cun-
ning, unaccountable, and Untainted
by Reality. The Face of Privilege
is Flawless. It loses no Sleep for its
Society. Its Gaze does not wander
at the Gaunt Cheeks of Ideals and Dreams.
And the Nothingness of Meaning abounds.
It strengthens on the Denial of Sense,
of Touch, Taste, Smell, Speak, Hear its Citizens.
This is the way that Indifferent Power
yields its force by Denial of Presence.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Hands of America Dream Part 2: not even those Children who call themselves Dreamers.

The hands dream, why wouldn't they? For they count,
and they till and they plow and they pick and
they scrub and they wield machinery, care for
children, repair automobiles, write poems,
lift boxes in warehouses, carry wood
and cement, dig holes, install windows on
towers, build houses, So why would they not
also Dream? Dream of Freedom from blisters,
injury, arthritis, gashes, broken
bones? You see Hands are the Makers of Dreams.
Not you and I, not the Congress in Session,
not even those Young Ones who call themselves
Dreamers. The Hands made the World what it Is.
They know What's Up and What's Down. They're Alright.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Federico Garcia Lorca te nombran gitano

--to Victor Avila

Adonis of poetry, Federico te nombran
el gitano por adentro, ardiente y triste, Alma
mia que fin fue capaz de terminar contigo? Qual?
What end could quit you? The Heart was replaced with a Deer's
Heart, and Sleeping Beauty will awake, and the Elves Who
become Plural by the Force that Separates with Violence.
Enrededor Palabra, que es lo que Bebes Tu?
Je m'appelle Federica, your bridge made in my Image
and thus this Medium of Verse has Returned us to the Wall
of the Firing Squad. I see you there Federico
composing your Death Song with Words that you formed in Vain.
Or were you Alive as you are now in this PoemeoP? Were you a Poet
until the Last Breath? We return to you at the Well,
Duende, the Spirit of Death of the People as it Evokes itself in Fire.

Rebuke to the Senate Don't Distort Dreams thats Unethical

Of note in the House of Representatives,
there were some who said they were not
informed on the Dream Act; there was
also an argument that tried to Reverse
the Dream into a Nightmare--This is
where the Careful scheme of Theatrical
Politics broke down for too many of
us are on First-name basis with Bad Luck
to know when its Faked and Hyped by a
Slick Politician while pushing through Media
the hate among people, their shortage
of Funding for any of us. Nah! their Night-
mare is probably pretty Privileged only
Politics can go that Low, Senators.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Utility and Dream had a Debate: un vals sobre valsability

Utility and Dream had a Debate. Its
Purpose was to illustrate how Infirm,
Inept, and unappealing were the Ill
for they could neither be of Use nor
understand their Delusions, Better
to leave that Unconscious Alone
for how unfortunate are the sympto-
matic and pained or amputated
people, the maimed. Consider the
Worth of Dreams imperiled by
social conditions. This portends not
a Sonnet but a transcript of Red
Tape, a most undesirable Process
has ben Underway in this Waltz.

Hands of America Dream is the Sum of this Poem, its Poetic Total added Up:A Rococo Dream Act Poetics Improvisation to Hip Hop Rhythm on Poetry and Dreams

Crucible of Dreams, how much Easier
would be the Ease of Reality. By epic
comparison, pardon our Rust, we are
old souls, the fools, musicians, and locos
poetas who Compare to the Night's Scope--
its Mystic Eye as Emerson called this,
an Iamb, I am I am a Poet  Ashamed
as Bill Williams for all of his Gnashing
Love, Vision, Imagination, will Love
ever Return from both ends Above, See
for yourself, Senators, those who hold
office in the Government and whose who
do in the Cultures-we deserve more than
they by our Volume of Sincerity and their
Inapparent Embarrassment, Esos
Sin Verguenzos of common parlance.
Orale, our voices are Stubborn in their
Humanidad. Stop with your Pedo, Do
something, Vato, at Least you Honor me
estupido Diablo SereSere.
Dream Act Hell Yeah.  Their Laurels Untainted,
are Famous for making a Spectacle
of Youth-Performatifique, PhD guey,
you can use some Pride in Humility.
Yes, it Exists, it's called a Compounded
Emotion. Feel the Love for my Freedom
It is a love that INCENSES Me. I'm
a Poet like Dickinson, Williams, oh
precious Crane, Stephen, my namesake Edith
Wharton, her Fama good, bad and divided.
The Artist came first and then the Congress
the Senators next and they get Nowhere
without Writers who they Plagiarize who
they revise Unshamefully Disguised Liars.
Send a Message to Pearl born of Hester:
"keep it Up, little Changeling, Retain the
Flame of Your Hope as Pilot of Redress"
This  Conversation became Appealing.
One is this Possibility Dreamscape
Re-Association of Words Cognant
a form of Poetic Title, Okay,
it's Poesy, a Rococo adobe wall
made of stone and cement, a conception
of the Hands. Hands of America Dream.

An American Dream Doctor, Dr. Paul Fleiss

Indeed, there is greater Worth in this Poem
than there was just yesterday. The Doctors
of Poetry are Specialists and Generalists
and they compose the Rhtyhms of Life, art
of the Stethoscope of Dear Dr. Fleiss,
of these Yellow Flowers, Herbalist, Man,
Father who has grown by Difficult Seeds.
You are one of the Sons whose Stem Grows
by his Thinking and his Suffering. You
are a Great Doctor of Humanity
and in this an Artist for Benefit
of Others, a Samaritan and yet you
are Scrutinized, challenged, and Abused,
your protectors are Children and their Mothers.

Such are difficult flowers, yellow ones,
Tassels of Hope, my Only Desire
because its the Last Petal of Flower
the one that falls last when it Crowns
and Recedes. We are of a Living Spirit.
My What suRReal flowers you are when
depicted as Ice Cubes of light Frozen.
Polycentric Vision, see within the Colors
the People as they are the Soul's Windows.
Art is for Art's Sake and its for Life's Sake
its Largest Yellow Flower blooms Once
again, Everyday without Stopping, Center
of our Hearts and Wisdom, we are People.
We come Recommended for our Vision.
We grow to bloom a difficult flower.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

I'm the Devil Rumplestilkin to Jonathan Culler Concerning the Congress in Session

I'm a Genius said Penelope Cruz
and I felt a Twinge of Myself, Hey Spark
of Angelic Rambling, ya Know Ginsberg
was one of those they call People of Color
yet we Have a Name. We are Chumash,
whaddup? Have a Seat, observe the Great
Creator's Song in my Heart, sagrado
humano, Elegua tus Hijos no Lo
Reconocen. oyes que les pasa? we asked
we, Nortenos, Villistas, Viva Zapata,
XochitlSonadores Radiantes,
Free the Dream Act Senator-Gentleman.
or we are Having a Little Problem.
The Racial part yeah yeah yeah it Still SelleS
well in the Market of Media Tropes
a ha ha ha. Get ready for MLA!
its in L.A. Native, our Englishes
by way of the Underground Languages
of the Infernally Created Code
known as the MLA Standard, Ole,
We are the Humanities. Let's Survive
Again as we always have in Hard Times.
Romantics, I've heard you Invoked thrice
this week. This is our Language and
those our Arts, Je Seui Les Fleurs du Mal.
Hurry Up Vamonos Arriba Congress
you are making an Idea of Mockery.
You obtrude upon Rhetoric sans elegance.
Here is enclosed my Challenge you Indeed
do this Service as a form of Respect
Free the Dream Act cuz I'm getting Wound Up
I may not be able to Stop its my Compulsive
Gentle Nature, a Non-Stop Humanist.
You thought I was the Princess? F-That
The Devil's in (here) inside of the Verses.
We've just Waltzed with him, Jonathan Culler

I always wondered, am I a poet? Is this really me writing this Sonnet?

I always wondered, am I a poet?
Is this really me writing this Sonnet?
I don't believe it's true that I wrote it.
I can't say why or how I began this.

You see, I can relate to the Hobbit
'cuz I live in a house that's Underground.
It's Magic, a place where I spin these Rhymes
from the Racket I hear passing Above.

The shop has a Pretty huge Order due.
It's for Rumplestilkin's Ransom. He's not
Playing around. Room after Room of Gold
I've spun from a Haystack with my Needle.

I've got this handled and saved the Princess.
when I spoke the devil's name in line ten.

Viejos sin Alma! Congreso Enterate del Sueno y Honralo

Les quedo grande la Yegua al Congreso.
Miren que no parecen los lideres
manipuladores? No se porque
me dan mal pensamiento. Yo No los
trasteo perdon es decir confio
Soy pocha con Safos pero quiero
a mi Comunidad samaritanos
de verdad. Clemencia, enterate que
hay Suenos que no se han Cumplido.
Y ya saben que dijo el poeta Langston
Hughes? Que a un Sueno no se Trata
asi. Se honra, Congreso, se Honra.
Son ustedes los que le dan Fama
Mala a la Poliza. Viejos sin Alma!

Dreamers: Sin Clave no hay Son : Remember what Celia Taught us Azucar!

Sin Clave no hay Son : Remember what She 
Taught us, Celia Cruz, Azucar Dreamers!
This is our Reconnaissance. We need All
you Dream Troops, just keep your Rhythm. Listen,
I'm here Spinning Sonnets by the Hour.
My eyes burn. Just try and keep up with me
I can't even do it. I'm one Sonnet 
Off. See, I got so many Lines for I'm
Breathing the Dream all day and all Night. No
crees? My pans are all Burnt since the Poem
insists to interfere with all my Plans
and all my Food gets Burnt in the Kitchen.
So, thank you, thank you, All of my Gente
who help me with my Chores so I can be Here.

Call me a Nightmare I'll answer you a Poem

Let me Get Your Name Down anti-Dream Man.
You can't see I'm Watching You WTF
who taught you your Manners anyhow?
Oh I see, nobody. So you can't blame that
on me and Punish me for your Ignorance.
All I'm saying is watch out cuz I see You.
I got your Name and your Number. 14
Liner, Sonnet, let's get our Feet Moving.
We have no time to train them its Their Job
to learn to be Human. We can Coach them.
Can't you hear it in their Tone? Criminals.
Who? Me or You? Cuz you are Battering
the Gavel and All of mY Dignity, Calling
me a Nightmare. I'll answer you a Poem.

Dream Act Shine up the Stars. Look they are Dusty again.

I'm not mad at the Dreamers but Damn, I
didn't need a New Hope. The last one Tried
to silence my Rhymes but they Reappeared
in Dream Act Pentameter, what Else? What do we
do? They can't be Stopped cuz they are Attached
to the Tail of a Comet disguised as a Sonnet,
dancing a two-step. Shall we Waltz Fantastic?
Este vals es el Mio. Mi Catorcero. Somos sin Fin.
We go eternal like Hope, Beauty, and Love.
We don't care if the ends Rhyme or Not. We
are Convinced they will Grant us this Entrance
to the Skies of Liberty's Kingdom where
we will Work, pay off Debts, and even Shine
up the Stars. Look they are Dusty again.

Querida Virgen de los Explotados: Proteje a este Sueno

Disculpame que no me dejaron
aprenderme bien este idioma.
Porque nos quitaron nuestro lenguaje
como ellos no tienen tanta dulzura
y son mas o menos amargados
que ni conocen a sus Poetas
que son los que mandan este Pais
de diez pies y catorce lineas, Ama,
Virgen de Guadalupe, Juquila,
Refugios, Todas las Musas que hay
se han despedido. Por supuesto vuelven
a Cantar ya que este el milagro. Usted
sabe que Vanidosas son. Saben
que es Usted la Quien Proteje a este Sueno.

I'm seasoning a sonnet: Dream of Freedom

I'm seasoning a sonnet here in my
Cocina. I MAY invoke my right to
Dream of Freedom, some old style Due Process,
a respite from Racialization, Please
for Mr. Omi and your homie, Winant,
tell me, Doctors of Knowledge, how did we
reverse the Exclusion Act and Jim Crow,
por ejemplo? My theory is measured.
Oh no! I've  left on the oven, talked
too much about my Feelings. The Sauces
are next. Throw in some vegetables and Spice.
Let it simmer, it is an Uncommon
Recipe. Dinner's ready. The Dipper
was given to me by the Milky Way.

a Certain Puerto Rican cutie named Williams, Pediatric of Poemies.

I've got my work cut out for me here.
I need more than one Loom for these Rhythms.
One's not enough for Constantly Stitching
or Stimming Prosody, I have my own
names. Pure Rhythm, you have me.  I'm all Yours.
Well, who is to blame? A man of course, It
was a Certain Puerto Rican cutie
named Williams, Pediatric of Poemies.
Look at the Mercury Rose and the Violet
Carpet. OMG.  I am Alive
no Sadness can Touch Me. I'll Sting it With
medical Treatment. I've got my Rhyming.
Whatever you Pull, there is a Pusher.
Oh Muses, Calm down, We're swerving. Focus.

Turtle Island Wins the Race : I'm Native

I'm biding my time. I got a Rhythm
so there's no Hurry now. In fact, why can't
you catch up with me? --Said the Kind Turtle
to his Foes -- Rabbits running through the Mills.
--You know what I've learned from this Travail?
My shell Protects me for it's my Homeland.
I'm a Native American, Nativa-
avitaN.  I talk to myself in my Wounds.
I say, Hey Committee of Muses, Give
a Fuck for Once! Quit giving me the Roles
I can hardly Outlive! Then my KindSelf
Carapace Replies.  She's says--"Didi,
tortugita, my Slow One, Be Careful.
You will arrive when you get there, Daughter."

Disability Decima

I've earned my Poetic Freedom.
I followed the Rules and broke them
but not before they hit me for I am
a Civil Rebel Crew,
a Poetrix just spinning Rhyme.
There's more than 1 of me and I count
for two, the Iambic Blue Shoes
of my Freedom's ability
and my Disability Family
making it with Difficulty.

A Good Teacher Doesn't Expect you to Do what She Says, Youth

A good teacher doesn't do that, that's Wack,
telling the Students how to Think, Be, Act
We have no Clue and our PhD proves
that. That's what a Thesis is For, CV
and the Rest: we are Investigators
of Rhyme and Reason.  There is no Answer,
Peeps. The problem is with Authority
that Lies and tries to Contend with the Mind
against whom it is Sadly Outranked, Poor
Power Trip: Hey, I let you be Head of the Line
and I washed up the Face of Disaster.
I am Compassionate.  I Comprehend
your need for Your Sentimentalities.
One who can does and one who can't Bullies.

Write as if you can only tell it Once like 1001 Arabian

Write as if you can only tell it Once
like 1001 Arabian
Nights, though your life Depended On it. Yes!
just like that you Humanitat Talent!
The tap Dance of Sonnets, a two-foot Line
I am Five times I am I am I am
You may have Killed me but I Survived it
Pressing my fingers across the Keyboard
at Certain Intervals and returning
to the opening of the Spiral. Back
and forth, we Sway, we Sway. We are the Swans
of the Paper Oceans. Oh Paper! You
are no More. Electronic Fountain of Youth,
Poetry is the Hope of Tomorrow.

Hypnotic Sonnet to the Senate: Watchate CNN!

Sonnet to the Senate.  D.C. has Gone Mad.
CNN is saying the Dream Act's Dead.
There's so much Irresponsibility
and Mad Procrastination Nation.
Get a Hold on your Sarcasm. Earn Your
meal for Once, Work! You are the Reps from States
your six Year job is Very cushiony,
isn't it? Honorable Senators, Grow Up!
Do something for Once for your Country. Now
Listen, I'm going to Hypnotize You.
You will not Lose Control of your Selves.
Relax. Count from Ten to Zero, Return
to the time you had a Dream of Freedom
Inspired to Run for the Office you hold.

DADT: Sexual Millitary Politics of the Circus

The Armed Forces like to play pretend all Heroes are Male.
Our Army's recruiting; Circ de'Soleil.
The Clown goes Center-Stage then turns his Back.
He says, "the Amorous Forces are Male
Fantasies Woweeee." The Mime joined his Bro
el Payaso Wikileaks, Hackers and Activists.

The Political Circus is in Town!
Trapezists and Acrobats in Costume.

"But where will we work when the Audience
no longer Needs us? We better Create Real war
and not just for the Season, but Permanently
causing them Tragedy at Left, Right and Center.
Plentiful Reasons they'll need amusement
and our Circus will have Captive Recruits!

We know we Women are Better Soldiers

We know we Women are Better Soldiers
than men just Remember the young woman
captured, a Prisoner of War, who Refused
to Lie to the Media?  "My Captors
were not so Bad; (they're Human). Them and me
are You. Soldiers we are New to this War."

She told Everyone: "they've got it all Wrong.
We worked it out without any Problem.
In the end, I lived but I've lost so many Friends
in this War."  See what I mean? Survive
and then you'll see how Difficult it is.

Let me Tell you Something: Yeah, The Greeks had
Ideas but the Amazons lived them.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Dream Act Poker: Gentleman from Illinois

Oh Dreamers whatcha Doin breaking Hearts
wherever you Go smiling in the Face
of Doubt? How do you get away Aces
every time? Give me a hand Diamonds, Jacks,
and Spades. You are looking like a Perfect
10, rather Stunning.  Can I join the Club?
Shuffle the Deck, be the King in this Line.
Gather all the Queens for the final score
Dream Act Poker. Everyone's invited
to place their Bets on the Game of Chance now.
You do know the Rules of the Game don't you?
Dealer, what's the High what's the Low? Good Luck.
Round One is Over. Taking bets on Round 2.
The Gentleman from Illinois cuts the Deck

Doc Williams, Hurry Up, here's Some News about The Dream Act

Doc you said Something I'd like to Correct
when you said that you can't get the News
in a Poem. Ta! Da! The Dream's right Here
third line from the Top and Pssst...I know you
are dead, but listen Up, William Carlos Will
iams, this here's a Sonnet. That's how it Will
be. But stick around we got some Patients
you can see, or they can see You, Poeta.
The Pure Products of America go
Dreaming, Mi Amor, si se Pudo, Dreams
can Never die or we Would too. Yet we must
learn to Flower meaning like Einstein did.
Hear me for I too am concerned and Who
ever wants to Dream in Peace in their Bed.

Que Diabolico Demonio! Adios a tu Poder que La Manchaste!

The Brain wash is getting so Soapy. Ay!
watch out for my Eyes. What you sayin?
You flashin your Supreme races? AY ay!
Oh my goodness, what is you? A private
Men's club of Race wizards infusing its Base?
WTF This is Political Intimidation. Fight
the Brown Ones! The Disabled! The Old!
All the Needy! Hate with us Hate with Us
we need you More than does Love. Love
has no Need for Race Hate. God has none
Either. Stop with the Genocidal Madness,
Mista! Get some Respeto, Puto gringo
Culero! Que Diabolico Demonio!
Adios a tu Poder que La Manchaste!

The 111th Lame Duck Congress Grew up a Swan

You have heard the one about the Ugly 
Duckling, right? That's Me. I am disabled,
a Little Lame Duck who grew up a Swan
A Female (I think?) She thinks? We do?
Disassociative hatchlings how I love you
as you Appeared somewhat Different from
those in Audubon's Elephant Earred books.
(Consider the Omen) (Consider the Dream)
(Consider our Old and our Ill and our 
Young and the Swans who are called
Retarded.  (Parentheses!) no More!
That is Sufficient! Disabled Voices Sing!
Deficient or less-Literarlistically-limited,
folks, now THAT's a Handicap, to suggest
Swans are Inferior when we don't Quack.

spin backward, spin forward, and in Reverse

I'm just sitting here wondering about myself,
a Passionate Teacher, who seeks one Thing
more than any other and that is Truth.
So yes I am a Difficult One, Heart-
of-a-Poet, give me a Break. Sleeping
Beauty, come take a Look: Atypical
autistic, call me Whatever. My wheels
spin backward, spin forward, and in Reverse.
The humming is Me and My Mechanics.
I'm actually trying my Hardest not
to Stand out for I'm sure I'm Transparent
since I'm socially awkward and need my Space.
This Thin skin of Mine was not my Decision.
I never chose to be Different but am.

America got her Dream Job: el Suendo de la Libertad

America got her Dream Job. Busy
saying yes to all of her People's Hopes
and calming their Fears, she is Happily
dispensing her Trademark Metaphors.

She Inspires the Tweeters and bloggers
declaring their Feelings, Whims, and their Woes
that are Pinned like the Stars in the Quilt
of the Sky where our Gaze meets with Wonder

Sequined in the design of Poems Woven
through the Fabric and Fiber of Love
of Libertad! The most Loved One:
Our Freedom to Believe in the Fools
that we Are who can Fly to the Moon
on the Dream Wings of a Unicorn.

Youth : Imagine Jose Marti when he lost Everything

Imagine our Dear Jose Ismael
Marti while inventing modernismo poetry,
was devastated when his entire
store of munitions and supplies for Cuba's
independence from Spain, were Seized at Sea
outside of Florida, everything lost
that he'd worked years to complete
and while in exile from his Island.
He said a Nation is built of People
of all Races de Nuestra America . "Tengo dos
paises, Cuba y la Noche...."Soy un hombre
sincero de donde crece la Palma," See?
What Beauty his Suffering gave his Song?
You are of the Same Verses Conceived,
An Idea can Stop a Warship at Sea.

Las Madres de America Guerrilleras del Sueno

Nacimos en una Nacion
que no tenia Nombre.
Le llaman el Sueno
y lo conocemos bien.

Somos los sonadores
somos los hijos del
trabajador y de las
madres que lloran

en silencio cuando
sus hijos no pueden sonar
en esta Sociedad,
tierra de libertad.

Entonces es por
ellas las madres de America
quel el tren del Sueno
llegua a su patria

This Dream runs on Pure Imagination for it Had no Pathway to Exist

This Dream runs on Pure Imagination
for it had No Pathway to Exist.
It has no Glass Ceiling, no Deportations.
It has an Underground Railroad for
thoughts Belonging elseWhere and Inside of Me. At
every turn I feel my Heart Burn with Love
for all the Children, Youth, and Peeps,
who Kept my Dream Alive for Me

They Painted it all over the Place on
Bridges, Skies, Hallways, Senate Floors, and Screens.
For our Miserable Dreams, our Hurt
and Dessicated Gente who the Border Kills,
they made Beauty in places of Horror.

Yet they Smiled as they were Handcuffed on
Floors, Concrete Pavement, and Streets.

Undocumented Dreamer: I remember what you Wrote

--for Alma Castrejon

Dreamer, I remember the Essay you
wrote in my Class at University
in which you spoke of La Llorona as
adapted by Gloria Anzaldua.
You said something I will never forget:
"This story shows us not to be Biased
toward others even if they are a Ghost."
I kept your words like precious reminders
of something not yet real. And, Dreamers,
when I asked you to write as if you were
only eight or ten years old, a prayer, wish
or desire your young hearts spoke. What
you hoped for more than anything was this:
"I wish my mom could have one day off of work."

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Somos Apaches, Viejas y Ninas

Your blue and violet Pin shaped into
a Concha, Mama, your Woven Beanie
green as moss and seaweeds, your hair Black Crown
Of Belleza de la Mas Sagrada
Nos Cambiemos el Corazon nuestro, 
No Somos de Ningun lado de la 
Frontera,Somos Apaches, Viejas 
y Ninas aun Las mas dedicadas 
Criadas y las Profesoras. Nuestros
Hijos que nos nacieron con cara
De los Viejos, son Nuestros raices
en la Apacheria Nuestra Madre 
Nos Ha Ayudado y los cuidaremos
a los que nos dieron Nuestra Vida.

I Am Mother Earth and I Approve This Message

I saw my mother be treated as an animal
in the form of Myself and in my Grand
Mothers, my Grandchildren? N O I will
Change this world before I die.  I will
Fight the Wrongs of every Child and
Her Mother to freedom from sexual
Predation. You are Innocent until proven
Guilty and Mercy may yet be available.
I’m Mother Earth Daughter of a Daughter
of a Matriarch of Pure Beauty,
Agripina, Mother of the Sirenas.
No hay ni una Mentira en este
discurso Y todo fue Creado
desde una Memoria Escrita por
su Propio poder, Liberada Soy
Generala, Jefa, Senora, y
Maestra, Profesora, Hermana
Trabajadora a nuestras madres
les llaman Inmigrantes, nos dieron
Nuestro Derecho de Estudiar con
sus Suenos De Ellas… No me lo busque
ser Poeta Les dije que No y no
me Respetaron! Me lastimaron
de los Nervios y todo el sistema.
Me violaron mis derechos. Asi fue?
Ya veran los que no traien Consciencia. C/S

se va acercando la autoridad al soneto

Calambra ya estufas es la hora
de Aprender algo. Por favor,
madre Angustia, nos Permite bailar
una Rumba metaforica contoy
las flores del campo santo que
cuando el viento las sople parecen
que estan llorando. Que U vo
livianense paisanos ciudadanos
soy Culebra Fantasiosa en el
Ombligo de tu Manzana, Ahora
SI se aCaba el Tren de  Colores
alli se ve la montana. Ay de mi
parajitos avierten chiflados cuando
se va acercando la autoridad.

Inocente fue La Vida en su Desenredo : Latinos We keeping it Together

As if we were always temporary
occupants of their reality.  We
are the ones keeping it All Together.
We're in Deep and everyone knows It's true.
We are Civil, Proud, and of Servicio,
Su Servidor a la Gracia Social.
Cuz ya know we gotta Admit our Lives
are Rather Stressful and Non-Stop Vigilance
of keeping Meaning for America.
Yet, we're not Confused. We know who we are.
We have a strong Residual Nostalgia
for our Alternate Worlds, our Campo, pueblo
Ciudad, playa. Sierra, monte, lago,
Fuente, que Rica es Nuestra Sociedad
pero corre Sangre por las  Calles.
De repente se Pierden a los Siglos
...que que Inocente fue La Vida
en su Desenredo la violaron
qual verdad su Madre tuvo que
Aceptar, pero que la Regresen
a su hija Persephonia por
lo menos por Una Temporada
y al Regresar al Infierno Norte
Unica Salida a otra Miseria
y donde seTendra que Batallar
a Entrar. Cenicienta Cenicienta.

Soy de la Dictadura Idioma de Amor y Poesia y Paz,

Soy de la Dictadura Idioma
de Amor y Poesia y Paz,
ande mija comete tu Pan,
te lo traje de Juarez y la
medicina tambien pa' tu
Mami, hagale caso, cuidala
mucho a tu Mama. Ay, Pureza
sonsorante, mi Sangre, mi
Ser y los Ojos de mi Madre
que me abrieron al Mundo entero
aunque soy nada mas Media
India, me tengo que Aceptar
como soy, me nombraron
por mi Abuela Maestra,
una Anglo Sajona que a mi Padre
lo crio en Canto al Poesia
y de la Epoca, no como
esta Palabra hecha en Llamas.
Cada dia me quemo en hablarla.
Le corto las ramas y vuelven
a Nacer las Flores de memoria
y por alli va esta cancion
el regreso es un Condeno,
una cadena enredada en la
Paz del Cerebro. Unica
Palabra, te Calmaras
si te doy toda mi existencia?

Que Viva la Vida Harmonia

Musesita Traviesa, Caracol
de mi harmonia, le Saludo
primero a la Madre reina,
Maria Agripina Auto enMaestró,
palabras que abren a las aaa's
somos Vivos sobrevividores
aunque un tanto menos Vivos,
a la biblioteca de Inocencia
iremos para aguantar al eXilio
vamos a ver a la Mama Grande,
la que no Conoce a ningun Miedo
por haber Conquistado a la Mera
Mas Feroz que es la Vida C/S

Monday, December 6, 2010

It happens as the cramps of child birth, Leda after her Rape

It happens as the cramps of child birth,
contractions, pains, tingling, numbness, again
pressures which pass and return, that's the Flow
of Cracking Up as they say though I don't
like that term. I'd describe my Mind as an
Ongoing Circus of Entertainers,
Mirth and Melancholy, and the Mental
Blisters that Ooze Inchoate Flowers
and Blend with tics, dead time, and counting
Rhymes by various Lengths and Measures.
Voila, they are Disassociative Muses
Lacing their Words upon Wheels in Flight
Sustained on Delicate Skies. Andale, Didi, tomate
tu te y luego te vas a comer tus frioles con chile.

Oh Snap! Sonnet With a Tony Hawk Volta

I consider skateboarding an art form, a lifestyle and a sport. T.H.

Oh Snap! I am so rapped up with my Rhymes
like Hermione in Ovid's Hesoides,
a Heroine Heretic.  Hester's "A"  
on my Breast in Red and Gold Letters.
I have spilt a small drop o' Oceana
from the Wine of my orchards of blissilb.
Now there's little left to do here so, I'll
wrap it up pu ti parw  Just wasting time
watchin the wheels go round and round you know
I love to watch them Roll. Oye como va
mi ritmo. Here's my Volta, Tony Hawk:
The skater is an example of Pure Love
undulent, penumbric Spun from the Silk
of the First sound of the Alphabet, Aaaa