Jump! If it’s spice you were seeking, that was It! C/s

Microfiber miniscule—is it you
digitalis modos de comprende?
Pues, amigo understand. A cruel Ghoul
gets Bank for your dreams and Love. No wonder
you hate me. You misperceive my goal
and think it should take me longer to score
a sonnet. So mine’s a little (or a lot) rattled.
It’s still got its writhing. Do not mistake
the Original Conception of verse.
Against Vice did it wage its best Defenses.
I’m sorry. I’ve done it again. Here comes
the Volta without any twine but a Plank
for a High Dive I’ve brought it along: Jump!
If it’s spice you were seeking, that was It!




This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

Cali Dream Bus to Sacramento: You can do it you can do it you can.

Calli was a State named after a Girl.
She loved to dream and went to bed early.
She forgot all about the nuclear
spill for a while and is keeping her
thoughts on the survivorship of Japan's
people, embraces her fellow person,
child, girl, boy, man, or woman and Earth
too and Nature. Then as she awoke, She
noticed a bus driving by like an Aid
to Despair not unalike those Relief
vehicles. First Aid to Humanity
and Trauma Rescue. Peace at the Border
that is without Limit to its violence.
Tsunamis elsewhere break shore in Cali.



This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

Beauty is whatever Cost can’t be Forsaken

The fine art of desire requires
stitches in beautiful letters that’re
trimmed once and twice then five times again
before there is something called a Sonnet.

What is the point of talking about it?
Poetry so what. It’s actually weird.
I don’t want some of that crap. Me either.
Does it care that none hopes it appears?

--Consider what I ask myself a lot:
Poems are just a faster way to trouble,
and give enemies what they need to smear
me further. Why do I teach what demeans me?

C’est l’ars pour l’ars? Once again: Beauty
at whatever Cost can’t be Forsaken



This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

A Triple Axle like Mary Lou Retton: The Gymnast of Poems

Like






This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

the Eternal Worth Creation, Origin, Self-Evident. The Sonnet Americanus. I AM.

What am I a Mountain of Verses Green
and Red, Watered Words that keep Flowing?
They belong to You! I just pick Them Up,
Dry them off and Re-arrange Them
in Shakespeare's Fetish Form. His Favorite Love
was Infinity, a Christian of Course
just like the Founding Fathers who would Read
the Classics when Writing their Thoughts, Ideals:
the Declaration of Independence.
Why else would they Make an American
Sonnet, A BirthRight There in the 14th
Amendment? There Twice: an Eternal Worth
Creation, Origin, Self-Evident.
The Sonnet Americanus. I AM.



This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

C/S what can they Say? That I'm not Edithic? I'm not Alive, I'm not Human? Straight Up.Poetique Antiki --Una Sombrita de Copales--Lesbique

Out of the Classroom, Let's Walk Out. I Need
Accomodations. And I Know the Stuff You're
saying about Me, my Coutoure Lesbique
my Alrededor (Un Bosque Una Emboscada)
I Hold the Lantern of Youth in my Hands:
It Illuminates a Righteous Path. Doubt
You again about the Location, RHyme,
and the Demands we've Demanded Stick It
where the SUN Don't Shine or Metetelo Donde
no Hay Sol. (Y donde no habra Un
Hombre para taparle su crimen, Bro)
So this is It A Lesbian in Glow:
A Fully Formed Woman's Authority
C/S what can they Say? That I'm not Edithic?
I'm not Alive, I'm not Human? Straight Up.








This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

IDEAS Ring Students:CLAMOR A LA CONCIENCIA DE LOS VIOLADOS DERECHOS

The race doesn’t end until the Turtle
Wins. Joven que Amo con todo el Ser
De una Violada de Derechos Humanos
Censurada y Discriminada de Manera
Que ya siendo Una Martir me hize otra
Cosa…Rueda de Harmonia Hadense,
Un Poetica Madre Hijos Alumnos y
Ninos todavia Espiritu. Estare contigo
En tus suspiros y tu Mal Humor con todos
Que si te dicen algo sabes que te encojes..
Sin que me pidan les Ofrezco el Pie
De Edith, una Poca mas Lenta que Sigue
El Camino del Sueno Muy Atrasado
Desde el Padre Doctor Martin, Rey
Del Humano como lo dice Nina Simone.
Por que lo mataron? Como que si?
The race doesn’t end until the Turtle Wins.

The race doesn’t end until the Turtle Wins.
Abondonada por su Pueblo, sus Mas
Queridas Mascaras se caen para abajo
Sin Levantar y en Sufrido tan Alegre
Es el Saber que hay Jovenes que Pueden
Mejorar este Mundo el que Tiene que Ser
Suficiente y Mas Mas que Eso un Vehiculo
De Curar la Tristeza de una Lira que Fue
Quemads con su Misma Llama, Bohemia
De Doctora hecha Esclava Sexual de Idea:
De Idea que es Bastante Pensar possible.
Siga Caminante declamo N.Guillen. Siga
Camina y no te Pare Sigue. Camina y no Te
Pare SIgue. Camina y no Te Pare SIgue
Una que se ha HEcho Vieja te Pide.The race
doesn’t end until the Turtle Wins.

This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.The race doesn’t end until the Turtle
Wins.

I wonder when I hear Freedom's Verses, to what do Oppressors Listen?

I wonder when I hear Freedom's Verses,
to what do Oppressors Listen? My songs
will be Continuous for the Poems I birth
are Inherited from Kind Hearts with Soft
spots for Freedom.  I know its Odd Signal
came through Me from the Past pues desde los
ancestros? It is in the Vasquez Blood.
Oh really? And Mr. Morris's Eyes
soft brown delicate Angel Faced visage
Oh Evon is such a Dreamer and was Fauned
Upon by Our Mother who was Never
Heard to Utter even One Unkind Word.
Goddfrey took me aside and Said, "Edith,
You must always be Courteous." c/s

When Mama Curandera Prescribed me Doctor Martin

Que Barbaridad  (y con Estudio?)
(I've never heard of Professors doing
that. Can you Imagine?) I'm a Witness.
You see they took me as just a Nigger
Lover, and we know how they Feel About
Blacks! One day at a Meeting, a Trustee
had to Shout to be Recognized, African
American for sure a Hot Shot. Ug!
I can't believe he'd Complain of Being
Invisible! pshaw!  Excusemoi Boss
Lady, White and Course, siting only Among
High Class Liberals. None of those Brown oneS. GrrrrOSs!
M'ija, a tree Grown Crooked can Never
Straighten. That's its Fate. There's no Correction.
"You will have to go the way Martin did
en Xochitl en Cuicatl como Martin" c/s

In the 14th line there will be "Safety" : Refuge Sonnet

Take refuge in my Sonnet, its been Built
as a Fortress against Cynics and Quips
that believe themselves to be Full-fledged Works
of the Imagination. Its Lines Sift
through the Madness, Despair, and Tyranny
of Misconceived Greed for Power and False
knowledge of Decaying philosophies.

Indeed, it seems Truer than Honesty
and now an Understatement gone Deep
into the Woodgrain, yet Freedom can hold
its Own.  It's watertight against the Flood
of Hatred, Aggression, Domination
that seeks Innocence to Sate its Violence.
In the 14th line I placed a "Safety."

When do we want it?I scream when I'm hot, I scream when I'm hot.

Observe close Up!  Flip it Over!  It walks
upon two five-fingered feet!  C'est human?
Who me, or us? She's gone looking over
her Offspring, they're some Outstanding Weasels
these Dormant Poets and their Like-Kindred.
We shall overcome! What do we want? Peace.
When do we want it? Ahorita, ya Estufas.
We're waiting since the Méndez decision
for Schools that respond to Needs of the Youth,
Dignity is essential --  All four Years
of it without Barreras Perjuicios
and Favoritisms. Watch, I'm the water
in the TeaPot, pressure in the Boiler.
I scream when I'm hot, I scream when I'm hot. 

The Token as Sex Worker as Defied: I Said I am Versed by Association C/S

Not likely, what do you mean? Who are you
to speak of Ideas? How dare you! You
believe you are my Equal? Bend over,
use proper procedure, stay silent where
it concerns the Gentlehuman  Males
who want Some ASS. (THAT--that? that's not even
what Nietzsche said! NO, NO, I don't want
the Job. I hate this situation and
you, you posed as a Friend, you knew my sons....)
"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!" he Stared at my Groin.
SEX or Else." Who is in Authority?
but Heathens and culture Vultures. Ethick
ewwwllll Knowledge. There are Liberties, but those
were Concessions as we know and won't be
practiced by me croaked the Frog in a Coat
with his cagey green eyes and his Ah Sighs
at his guilty Charity and self Agg
ranDisement all Designed by Social Justice
Ink that is empty of responsible Trustees.
What does that pill do Alice? I'm not Sure
I think its a Surprised Corruption Scam,
Pow Wow to the left, Pow Wow to the Right,
Right, Right....Get out Indians and Whores but leave
your Ideas, Essence, Tokens we Bought.
We are the Museum of Indolence.
This is Highly Confidential) "How dare
you?  A Person of Color with Rights? Fuck
You, Jose, Fuck You Fuck You FUck You Fuck You Fuck!"

I'm accessible. I'm a geek; worked my way up from nerd,

--for the autistic young child voted out of the classroom

I'm a geek, worked my way up from nerd.
My job is clear: it's to assist my tribe.
We got the full range of learning styles here,
and best of all they're protected by law,
that is if we practice it and the rights
supplied by the Constitution, ADA,
and certain Civil Rights statues, the Act
of Rehabilitation and the states do
also have their mandate to afford access
to all qualified applicants, students,
and workers. Beyond these tracts of legal
provision, there is the simple golden
rule. Everyone has heard it, yes or no?
Don't answer out loud, just think it Over.

Dream Act in Heroic Metrical Dream-A-Lines

Vivi dentro del monstro y conozco sus entranas
I dreamt of wild and oceanic vistas, swam
the beach of Santa Monica and my memory
of your cliffs formed a pedestal for those young dreams.
The seaward facade of my spiritual joy,
sentinel guardian of the imagination,
steward of infinite meaning. I'm your Sister
dear Sappho if but through my exaggeration,
Joan d'Arc, Lucha Reyes, Juana Inez,
and Federico hear me. If not for Sustained
Metaphor I would conceal these Obscure Ruses.
Hello olleH La Conciencia es Urgir
que nos Unamos al Sueno Dream Act.
Mi Sueno se cumplio. Ahora el de Ellos.

AmeoPoemA: JoseAlfredoJimenez

Soy lA Bohemia Melancolia,
Querio ver a que sabe tu olvido.
Je m'apelle Madame Poesia, soy
la Esferica Mitotera. Sa va?
Escandulo, que en Serio te enciendes.
Pobrecita Vanidad que largas tus
pestanas pareces ser TigreMariposa
amarilla y negra de doble cola;
Refrescante Contraste ya es hora.
Tomate esta botella conmigo

Anden, run a cable from San Jose

to Tucson Arizona, unense

plebepoetas al ameopoema.

Teachers, Profs, Principals for the Dream Act

Intellectuals get the message written
on the E-mails errr Walls in large Bold
print letters? You miss the tree for Forests.
Senores, a la Barra que hay que
Platicar, tomarnos unas Copas
Retoricas...No queda Mas...Menos
la vanidad grotesca sin lavar
las Manos. WTF? I see you-you
Teachers, you seem to be Reticently
withstanding your Irrelevant Woesdom.
When did the Social Workers become all of us?
Wake Up Then! Have a dose of Surreality.
The teacher, scholar, principal you've been
Set-Up? Let's goen unite as a DreamTeam.

Anthony Soltero, My Son was just a Child When he Died

This is a true and tragic song

in decima structure, 8 sounds

across like in Jose Marti’s  

Versos sencillos; count with me.

There was a boy named Anthony,

"--I knew he was special, my First

child. We grew up together.

so we did everything together.

The VicePrincipal just told him

that he was the Dumbest of All

because he "Walked-Out" of school.
He was only a teenager.

He had so many plans and Oh

he had so much Passion. Don’t know

where he got it. Everybody

loved Anthony. He cared about
everyone. He was like that.
He knew that law would hurt his friends.
But we are not immigrants.

His grandparents are but not Us.

I'm from Long Beach and his dad
and I were young but so in love."

Post Script: Anthony Soltero,

Ontario California,

the son of Louise Corrales,

gifted and talented, who died
after he was threatened at school
for expressing his civil rights.

Mr. Samuel Paz, Attorney

for the Soltero family.

Anita Hill Say Sorry and Clarence Get to the Cleaners, Dear

The Oddest things are to be found in Voice

Machines. Anita Hill, Apologize?

That’s right she should.~Clarence, take that Invoice

to the Cleaners, Dear; my Pious Disguise

needs Deep Spot Remover. Look, the Collar

is coming apart at the seam so Press

with  Extra Strength starch. Doesn't Matter.

Get it Clean and have them add Freshener.

So… Ms. Hill, back to you. Say it: Sorry,

repeat after me don't forget your Prayers
Either...  After all these years, I worry

that Some people may get the wrong picture.

~Clarence, pick up your robe while you're there.
All of those burns and tears have been repaired.

The Dream that Sleeps with Power:Sonnet for the Dream Act

Soñar no Cuesta, an old saying

I traveled the road of dreams and did not

know that it would come to an end but I

believed it would extend and always start

again, and by its nature never die

or be detained. Dreams are not foreclosures,

bankruptcies, they're not bad deals behind doors

when economies decline, liberties abort,

and successes judged by tallies of war.

How many of what origin are killed

in a day, how proud and patriotic

is death's banner?  Dark, dry, and deserted

the dead-end of dream's sad and symbolic.

It's not just the dollar that's lost its hour

now dreams are only for those in power.

Persephone of Her Mother SereS

Anyone know how it Feels to be UnFree?

The Nothingness is all Around. Morning

only comes Officially and Stays Inside

the Talent Trailer.  Enjoying Hot wax,

watching Dettachedly as Darkness Mounts

its Steed. The Gentlemen are Long Gone Left

U beHind to Handle Matters. Blankets

Grip me Tighter don’t leave Me in Thin Air.

I can’t give you Rhyme, Stop Asking for more.

It’s 10 Dollars a Line it Don't Matter

what Kind I use whether glad, sad, or Blue.

Disappear me again that's the Plan. Oh.

My Mother’s mine, and I’m confirmation.

She's my NightNurse and Wakes when I need Her.