Wednesday, December 28, 2011

"La Oveja Negra"
Mixed Media Collograph print on arches paper
by Julia Lopez
Photo by Tony Rocco

written by Julia Lopez

Scene 4

(After Singing 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 and smiles with irony. She then recites from Emily Dickinson Collected Poems number XI (Barnes and Noble Books)

“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.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

love poem

                                                                                 LA, 2010
I can see    
the stars
the sky is dark
and if I just
face forward
it would be
just you and me

sound of your water
pushing up against me
pushing up
against the
sand and earth

It rained
while we were
the sand is wet
I can
see you
moving swaying
hitting up
against me
my ears are happy
to see you
hear you again

at nite
you are more
more you

not may witnesses
pushing you
making noise
too new
too unnatural
modern sounds
your sound
is a million years

the darkeness

helps me
you are rough
all times
I think I know you
then you change
why do I bother
to leave you
to say goodbye...
just keep
coming back
same circle
always sad
when it ends

I keep trying
to run away
from you from me
I love you

every one of us
our own path...
yours is everlasting
you are always in
front of the
in front of me

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Smart Head

Smart head
beat down
starts young

you can't understand
the pain inside
all alone in a crowd
the brain moves
to different places
a zillion thoughts
competing for
one-spaces, the
hands get lost
don't know where
to stand
the eyes close
light too strong
too brite too dark
cant compete
smart head
it used to be
smart head
smart head
used to be
you loved me
loved me
smart head
beat down
starts young
you can't understand
the wire crossed
left right
never to meet
meet too much
in between me
and you
a zillion tears
don't know why
not working
not working
trying too hard
to explain what
goes on in my brain
a zillion...
all reasons
to help
me move forward
you gotta focus
they say
its easy, here
are a zillion
ways to organize
your self
more electric
shock thought
running bouncing
running through
my twisted fingers
pain shoots
up down
arms and legs
with the trying
smart head
beat down
starts young
you cant understand
the pain inside
all alone
in the crowd
smart head
i wish
for stupid
not caring
no conscious
easy hard \
doesn't exist\
it is
thats all
straight forward
                  smart head
                  beat down
                  starts young
                  the pain inside
                  can't hide
                  from myself
                  smart head