I pay tribute to the women who came before me women who sacrificed so my parents could exist my mami who had to leave behind her culture, traditions, and language to give me a better life to make sure I grow up safe and well educated and taught me what strength and resilience means as she worked long days to make ends meet as she showed initiative to move our family forward and with her example I was able to follow it except I change it up some to live a life full of love, community and creativity
lately I take the biggest bites out of life and flaunt it in front of everyone for too long I suppressed my hunger for experience, for adventure thought I was crazy for trying to explore my curious nature So instead I took small bites here and there thinking it be enough but it wasn’t who I was a little bird taking nips naw I’m a condor reading to pounce and satiate my hunger my big ass appetite ready to be satisfied with the unpleasant and pleasurable things in life
man sets himself on fire for gaza woman murdered just for existing babies starved to death for being born Palestinian young adult dies at dorm of the local university collective grief rattles our communities don’t know what to make of so much loss happening within a matter of days all we can do is hold on to each other as senseless madness and violence takes place all we can do is tell our stories build our sanctuaries within each other remind ourselves of our warmth, our humanity when the world is heavy with cruelty and toxicity
before I knew who I was I used to be oh so charming to men always agreeing with them, mirroring their interests, stroking their egos and other things and giving them easy access to me I never used much discernment in this my standard were 3000 leagues under the sea So I allowed any mediocre joe who showed me the least bit of attention into my universe and I allowed this to happen for 26 years making myself fodder for these mediocre and insecure joes who left the minute I show then a bit of the fire I held within and everytime they left, I was destroyed and like a tarot’s fool I keep repeating this nonsense until a few years ago, I had enough when the last of the joes said I was too much for him and it was the final straw that broke my romantic girl spirit for a while I was touch and go with my sanity but I rose and rose like the Peruvian diosa I had always been and in horror I realized laying in bed with mediocrity only damaged me, it was time to change this narrative and slowly I recovered from the latest love tragedy and starting writing my own love story one where alone I’m enough and the protagonist and never again have to tone down who I am or hide the fire and magic that resides in me
while I’ve been obsessed with everything that has gone wrong with my life I’m learning to finally acknowledge everything that went right always been blessed to have a community of friends who loved and accept me as the crazy and creative mess that I have always been for that I am most grateful to the universe the ultimate gift of friendship
we gather here tonight to share the most vulnerable parts of ourselves through poems written on a whim, in cars, inspired by dreams and tragedies and everything in between some of it will be meaningful some of it will be nonsense most of the time, it will be someone trying to make sense of the world with a few phrases and sentences clumsily strung together and calling it poetry
this is inspired by the 2006 poem, “did I ask for your advice”
well meaning unsolicited advice and opinions from others Made me feel like I was a failure like I wasn’t doing enough to better myself it always comes after a life changing event- a new baby, marriage, and most recently my divorce In my 20s it drove me crazy In my 40s I nod, smile, take whatever is helpful and move on
My body slowly starts to rebel against the daily stress I put on it It says, “stop this nonsense, you’re trying to do too much constantly. hardly stopping to catch your breath Constantly moving with a fast pace, tying up your worth with how productive you can be when just breathing, just existing is enough”
I was ready to give up Until I felt a sudden caress on my hand you looked at me with desire, and I blushed and our passion was awakened from a year-long deep sleep Is this a short-lived daydream? or the impossibility of our new reality?
hope is found in a lucid dream- It’s a whisper reminding me, “it won’t always be like this” it’s my abuela telling me “tu vida apenas está comenzando” and I wake from the fog of existential dread I’ve been feeling lately-
another new year is here another season of my life will soon be renewed more chances for new experiences and adventures more opportunities to fuck things up and give fodder to the inner critic in me to emotionally beat me up more time to question myself am I doing enough for me and my kids to prosper more moments of joy and laughter with my boys as they get older and continue to find their autonomy more grief and sadness as the working class and marginalized communities continue to be stepped on more memories made that ignite a spark of creativity within me another new year another transformation under construction
I wrote this poem earlier this month for a future version of myself. I wanted to end 2024 with a hopeful and romantic note.
lighting hits me and I’m in love all over again this time I take my vows seriously this time I believe in the whole “til death do us part” bit this time it’s far from perfect and ideal but for once in my life we’re enough for each other and there are no seconds thoughts that this is true love
my low rent bennifer phase lasted a total of 19 days before I blocked him
just call me J.Lo without the ass because my ex (if we can even call him that) came back to me after 2 years of sobriety we’re the low rent version of Bennifer except we’re not millionaires or celebrities (yet) I’m just a working class immigrant poet and he’s my ex whatevership Nordic muse
beast hurry up and come find me it’s been a year since I’ve been married two years since I had sex and three years since I’ve been in real relationship I’m a thirsty and horny yearning to break my vow of celibacy
erotic stories from my ancestors are still seen in the caves and uncovered in archaeological digs people intertwined in every imaginable position- showing their sexual pleasure shamelessly- it makes the American and Colonizer catholic girl in me blush and say, damn, the Incas were some kinky people
Life on the BPD 