America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing. America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956. I can’t stand my own mind. America when will we end the human war? Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb. I don’t feel good don’t bother me. I won’t write my poem till I’m in my…
Tag: poem
EP: On The Death Of That Most Excellent Lady By Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
(Español)Mueran contigo, prima, pues moriste,los afectos que en vano te desean,los ojos a quien privas de que veanhermosa luz que a un tiempo concediste. Muera mi lira infausta en que influisteecos, que lamentables te vocean,y hasta estos rasgos mal formados seanlágrimas negras de mi pluma triste. Muévase a compasión la misma muerteque, precisa, no pudo…
EP: No Good Bones by Maggie Smith
Life is short, though I keep this from my children.Life is short, and I’ve shortened minein a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,a thousand deliciously ill-advised waysI’ll keep from my children. The world is at leastfifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservativeestimate, though I keep this from my children.For every bird there is a stone thrown at…
EP: Oracle of the Povo by Dambudzo Marechera
Her vision’s scrubland Of out-of-work heroes Who yesterday a country won And today poverty tasted And some to the hills hurried their thirst And others to arson and blasphemy Waving down tourists and buses Unleashing havoc no tongue can tell – Her vision’s Droughtstricken acres Of lean harried squatters And fat pompous armed overlords Touching…
Grace Never Showed
Song said the sound was sweetbut it went down like tamarind We haven’t been savedwe’re lost in plain sightSunday’s hymn isn’t meStepfather taught us fearGrace never materializedTen unrelieved years passed She’s just an old rumorI am here, but there’sno safety and no escortjust a wilted, rotted faithWere homeless wretches, whose snared flesh did fail So…
Sunday Bus Back
A few minutes ago, a young boy showed me his rest stop ice cream. The vanilla cream painted his lips as a mother discussed the day with her family one row ahead. It was a sprinkled moment. A short glimps at innocence. His short black hair didn’t hide his dark brown eyes as the beige cone rested…
Free Verse: Scribble Some Words
Write your poem…a story of things you’ve encountered You can pick its gender, age and species without care Imagination is the singular narrator and it should find inspiration anywhere; build a world, a set or wooden stage The cast, well it can be of your own making and talent level A silent film, animation or…
EP: A Woman Speaks by Audre Lorde
Moon marked and touched by sunmy magic is unwrittenbut when the sea turns backit will leave my shape behind.I seek no favoruntouched by bloodunrelenting as the curse of lovepermanent as my errorsor my prideI do not mixlove with pitynor hate with scornand if you would know melook into the entrails of Uranuswhere the restless oceans…
Four Q’s
Am I ideal?An easy lover?A truly loyal friend?Do you think I’m faithful?What do you see, when I walk by?Because I think it’s crazy that you’re here. By Amaury Genao
Amended Journal
If I had a leather bound diary it would be partially fictional.I would edit some days to fit a happier brighter narrative.We would have more hugs;the yelling would be quieter. I’m in my room exceling in math,listening to hard rock by a lamp.The bodegas will have more books.Answers will be as abundant as rice.This way…
The Eclogues 
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