Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Carlos And What Happens When Flying JL

Draft 2-today

what can be given
that would be enough
you showed your self
released your you
for one moment
un momento
pueda que sea suficiente
para tener esperanza
tener fe en el amor
que tienes adentro
en el amor
sin condiciones
eres tu
un momento

14 dias de ser
No el que
That blurs reality
With the drugs of the colonizers;
Alcohol relentless
Relentless doubt
The trick that lands
Us in a cage
A delirious fist
That lands in the gut of
A police…man
The cop el policia
Que representa
Todo que no funciona
En tu vida
En su familia
Te conozco
Sin saber
Tu historia
un pedacito de tu cuento

Con tus ojos
Plucked cejas
Un abrazo
Eres mi hermano
Mi hijo
Conozco tu dolor
Tu deseo
De conectarse
Con otro, otra
Sin prejuicio
De ser aceptado
Reconciendo las ternura
De tu viaje
Tu sonrisa
Brazos abiertos
No queria dejarte
you and Juarez
on my skin

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

La Oveja Negra
mixed media on paper by JL

Graciela excerpt from the play by JL
Scene 4

After Singing to Crisitina Aguilera’s“Beautiful”

Stupid. Confronting the audience
Do you know who I am? I am la oveja negra, the black sheep of the family. Ah ha! I know some Spanish. O v e j a negra. Your misguided, misunderstood, sometimes clandestine, pitiful negrita. Not your little black lovely lovely one. No, the negra nobody wants because she’s bad and she’s too black. Wears black clothes, has black shiny finger nails, listens to black music, talks black talk, curses in black, she says fuck you, fuck this, I don’t give a fuck, and she won’t tell what she really means.
She pauses and finds the scar on the back side of her right arm.

See this scar…11 black stitches…it took 11. trying to shock I threw myself out of a window…after he… punched me in the head. No. He chased me down the hallway into Nina’s room. She and mom were on the bed, huddled together, holding each other and the wall, for dear life. I couldn’t get the window open. I swear he was in the kitchen looking for a knife. Seriously I thought he was going to…the window was jammed, it seemed like it. Manny looked like one of those evil looking medieval gargoyle beasts perched at the tops of the castle entryways. They were supposed to scare off the evil spirits. I was the evil one? I slammed my wrist through the window pain then thoughtlessly pulled it back into my body. That was a mistake. Looking at arm
Everything turned black that day…She walks with a black cloud around her head. Covers all her flesh in black. She has black scars, black scratches on her neck, black bruises on her belly, and has a black crooked walk.
Martina finds a miniature black box in her pocket. She examines it, open the box, pulls out a folded faded piece of paper, unfolds and reads then smiles with irony. She then recites what she has read, a poem by Emily Dickinson 

“Much madness is divinist sense
to a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
‘T is the majority
in this as all prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,-you’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

Saturday, November 26, 2011


 moon rising-jlopez

i start with the white owl 
in the plaza, oaxaca, mexico.
sitting close, next to jorge, another dream. his mouth tasted like puerto rico, tasted like wood, like burning embers in the road, tasted like the south bronx. he said that it was not a usual site. the white owl, never in the trees, in the plaza. the white owl looked me dead in the eyes, for a long time, for what seemed like forever, then i watched him swoop down and pounce, grabbing the scurrying mouse, the owl was hungry and when you are hungry you do un usual things. you do unusual things, when you are happy, when you are sad, when you are desperate, when you believe the moment you are in.
i move the boy who said he was the prodigy of God. he had a crooked penis, that all of the girls at school talked about. so i immediately walked toward him and stayed. he stayed left returned stayed left and returned and i was at his beck and call. another dream. i don't remember him tasting like anything but he was the first boy to bring me a tree for Christmas. a natural born tree not plastic like the trees we always had as kids. brother and sisters. never green, sometimes white or blue, always plastic. during m time with the prodigal son of God, I had a moment. the last defining moment. it was a moment of eternal bleeding. i bled i bled and it wouldn't stop. the emergency room doctors came round, when it was my turn, rushed me into surgery, i didn't understand why...and that is a lie. i thought the ball of blood that dropped into the toilet bowl was a child never to be born. the stitches would disappear on their own. dissolve. it would be as if they were never there. They would live inside of me forever and i will have never seen them. an awful sentence, awful words to put together.
i end today as i started, distracted, distracted reliving remembering the two moments. two boys and things i remember today, to start. i don't feel like counting the words.
This is where i end. 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Now and Always

                       'sun behind the clouds' by JLopez

Now and Always
the wire has been tight
high or low
low or high
it is always
stable and sturdy
now and always

Until the landing
forced or willing
it engages
leading us
forward backward
it comforts and terrifies

This is the way it is
if its not me this year

then its you
if its not you next year
then its me
is there an
end note?

Now and always

Climb the wire
for me

I climbed
the wire for you
all these years
with a smile on my face
my naked bleeding toes
holding on
for dear life
I stood

I stood...
a Neighborhood
a colleague
a leader
...difficult days
a relevant individual

a fellow a gal
a honey a pimp
a him a her a she a he
I stood

I practiced
backward forward
up down
trying to find
difficult and
exciting days

I practiced
in the air
on the ground
sustaining pain and fear
does it register

I will
will you...
on the wire

with me
back and forth
toes bleeding
to be
be a collective force...
or not

I extend my arms
offer respect
positive change
what does that
look like
to you
to me
this is a people’s emergency
it is a non profit
not just yours
not just mine

Forced or willing
there is no dead line
coping difficult days
high wire days

now and always.