poetry:blossoming

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

My son is blossoming and becoming the man
I always knew he could be
He’s ambitious, he’s kind,he’s a hard worker
He’s a mother’s dream come true
And while at times he may still stumble and occasionally
He’s inherited strength and resilience from me
It keeps him from giving up
It keeps him moving towards a life full of success and happiness

Poetry: Next

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

I keep trying to write my next chapter of love and find my next ex
but this time it’s difficult and tricky
since I’m not desperate, I’m not crazy and I have standards
and I don’t automatically swipe right on 10 out of 10 face card,
I really observe where they stand on important issues
like will they make the main and only romantic protagonist
in their life?
will they fetichize me like I’m some cute, sexy, and exotic little thing?
are they the kind of person to cheer if anyone in my family gets deported
so many things to ponder about as I try to find my next ex
perhaps, I’m overthinking this and should try to not be so picky
then again, I know how quickly the romantic in me cling to someone
the minute I feel chemistry, the minute they feel like home to me
only for me to break apart catastrophically when it all comes crashing down
nah, I can’t let that happen ever again
so this time around, it’s best to be strategic and think logically to myself
rule with my head instead of my heart

poetry: Horace and Betty

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I’m both awestruck and jealous at their achievement
because I couldn’t even get past year 11 of my marriage
because now I can’t even get past a talking stage on any of the dating apps
because I can’t imagine the kind of saintly patience, understanding and loyalty
required for that kind of commitment

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I wonder the fuck they did it
what was the magic key to unlock both their doors to a lifetime of shared love,respect
and vulnerability

Poetry: Is that you, God?

I wrote this poem in April of 2022:

this was the image that inspired me to write this poem

I saw a cross written in the sky
and I wondered,
β€œIs that you God?
Is that your sign that I shouldn’t lose
faith or hope
and I need to keep going,to keep living?
Is that you God ?
Telling me everything will be fine
and one day peace will be mine

Poetry: Faith

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

I find hope in nature

Faith found me one day
and told me to keep going when I didn’t want to
Faith made me believe in GOD when I wanted to fall
into the abyss of depression
Faith held me as I cried endless tears of my about
my latest life’s catastrophe
Faith loved me when I couldn’t love myself
Faith brought me people who believed in me
When I couldn’t believe in myself
Faith decided to one day bring it’s accomplice
HOPE

poetry: holy spirit

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

ese escote es pecado

my first lesson in forgetting spanish came at age 6,
that first week in first grade at holy spirit
when Spanish came out of my mouth and sister Loretto screamed at tme
and threatened me with the ruler
I don’t remember what she said bu t I was deeply impacted
learned to be good, to be obedient was to forget who I was
and quickly I made my brain believe English was better,
English was the language for survival in my adopted homeland
and like a sponge, I absorbed it
I didn’t lose heart when I was placed in the lowest reading group,
didn’t cry when I mispronounced a word, and my classmates laugh
I just kept on going
understood that my parents sacrifice in coming here needed to be worth it
there was so much pressure on my shoulders to succeed at age 6
instead of playing make believe and getting lost in disney fantasies
my priority was to learn English and become my parents american dream

poetry: lies we tell ourselves

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

the sexual tension between me and ghosting everyone is insane

we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, β€œI’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again

Poetry: EL (part .2 -L.B)

I wrote this poem in March of 2025.

subtitles jump from my phone screen violently
one of the few films from 1950’s mexico
that address domestic violence
one of the few films to portray the man
as the crazy one
but instead of him going to prison
for his many crimes against his wife
he ends up locked up in a monastery

poetry: for once

I wrote this poem in March of 2025.

one day in bed and my son acts like its the end of the world
demands I get up and act like an adult
like the mother he’s used to seeing
but in defiance, I stay in bed
reading poetry and allow the muse to come and allow me
to pour out of me and land on paper
for once I won’t allow the patriarchy define how I should act,
who I should be
for once I allow the poet me to be my first priority