Wearing//gunpowder//in their skins//trying//
to baptise//the loose cotton//the unconscious drums//
the fire between the lost// when all along//dignity floats//
above the water// violence// cannot taint the flames on you//on you.
Mujer con Voz ©2016
I remember
I can feel my lungs doing the work
H e l p M e
Being different is a hard pill to swallow
The tones of nature, coffee, my mother’s prayers live in me
The song is playing, I can’t help but dance
rotating like all those planets and
all those peaceful memories
The night is doing what she likes to do:
make us dream
I know some are scared of the light
And they don’t want anyone showing them
that the impossible can be possible
and that this moment, this moment right here
is what c o u n t s
My dance is my rainbow, sweet metaphor
And you know what is funny? When people see a rainbow in the sky,
they don’t run and say
“Hey! You!
Colorful thing!
Burn out”
I wish people will do the same with
others
If they want to be the light
in this dark place
let them be.
Photo by Joelle Santos @azuquita.prieta
“Get inside the hips of a plane
Travel millions light far from el caldero
de arroz
Learn a new form to love
the
inside-out of your translated words
But I tell you, honey
light travels back
and that body is full of symmetry
expect it to reflect
the life you
left
B
E
H
I
N
D.”
Photo by Jose A. Silva
Friends. You and I can become friends with someone who lives in the other side, the division, el arroyo, the bloody lines made with hands who don’t want to be divided by a light of power. Yo vi el human not a specific color, neither a label, I saw you –a person who lucha against what is wrong. I know, yo sè, before we went though our hardships and struggle with our locked hands, we had and we still have, so much in common, and I believe you see it too, like the colors on our flags and the mountains we shared (hidden from the outside world and the big screams in Time Square). We can’t put together with a glue used in elementary school the splits pieces of lands (Tierra), it’s too complicated, but something better can happen– mutual understanding, undressing the fake labels, and give space not to a “person of color,” but to a human, un humano, como tú y yo. My friend, mi amigo, he’s Haitian, and I see el viento de alegria and peaceful revolution in his words, it’s a bother and a human también. I wish the world can see it, as I do.
The world hurts me
like I am the sand seeing the storms approaching
I want to speak
I want to yell
It’s only a matter of time
I scream loud
but my language is in terms of nature
nobody hears me…
Mujer con Voz Poetry 