Las Gallas 7-2011
Vitoria-Barcelona
A journal of the ups and downs, ins and outs,and the glory of being an artist, a mother, and trying to create change for a just world! A Journey through the day to day and sometimes you will find a bad novela that you can't stop reading, lots of fotos, art, poetry, and maybe a heartfelt story of life saving change.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
The New Bar
June 1, 1992
40 ounces
of colt 45
and hoagie
to go
but wait
lets drink in
have some
ice cream
8 chicken barbecue wings
1.99
another 40 ounces
until my eyes get
red
and the
world becomes
a blur
at least
I wont get
sick
my stomach is full
don't drink
on an empty stomach
Tenia 4. 5 meses emabarazada. Sentada en Hoagie City en la esquina de la 5 y Lehigh.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Good Darkness
April 1996
They are alive
they look dead
fare branches
living through
cold wind rain
snow bare
farely moving
with the breeze
inside alive
roots holding firm
into the ground
earth weavings
itself inside and
out
around swirling around
thick threads
planted deep in
the ground
deep alive deep
old fervent
consistent
will live through
many storms
broken branches
may even tilt
a little from
tornadoes hurricanes thunder
maybe may even be scorched by lightning
but will live
through / bud
will bloom
will flourish
please passersby
with fresh
green colors
white pink
flowers
hundreds of
petals
beautiful thoughts
she is nourished
by random waterfalls
never complains
about the
uncertainty of their comings
she craves them
and welcomes them
its surprise arrival
quenches her thirst
and stores extra
for the dry days
Bare Branches
stretched out
always reaching
for a blue
sky to help
them notice
her
alive
help them
remember the
flowery days
the days of
sweet smells
+ light wet
mists
droplets hanging
on shy anxious
buds
Those days
that help you
breathe easier
let out sighs
take away
the bad darkness
divert any attention
to the desperate
rendevous in her
shadows
Huracanes secos
letras tras letras
el olor de la lluvia
olor dulce
te ayuda
se queda viva
respira mas facil
con cientos de
petalos
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Portate Bien-Be A Good Girl
Now the mouth
was transformed
it grew + grew
twisted with jagged edges
it could no l onger
hold the gums
+ the teeth that
had turned into fangs
words spit out
some caught on the
side of his mouth
I saw the letters gather
The g the o, o, the
d
getting ready for the
next word drive by
I tryed to duck
but got hit in the face
Portate bien be a good girl
got hit again and again
with scraps of letters
embedded in my skin
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Moon In Oaxaca
touch the midnight blue
Indigo sky
White wash
Yellow walls
flowers in pots
large terracotta clay
Rain clouds
in the distance
hang over the tips
of the monte alban
Mountain top 9/6/98
minutes away
clouds puff
sun shines in and out
over and under
playing games with me
hide and go seek
I remember all this
colors
solid clear feeling
Walking bouncing
through the same
500 year ago streets
walkways
solid firm in place
the mind once lost
firm in place during
all those Oaxaca days
remembering
lost me found me
in the 5 peso gardenia bouquet
fragrance of the white petals
surrounds me
pushed by the sunset's breeze
through the zocalo spaces
Gardenia breeze
moves me to dance
once hesitant
now jiggles
across new floors
time to free the heart
to go to its place
without guilt
legs hips shoulders
breasts free
filled with the music
vibrations of my islands
(finding) my Puerto Rico
in Oaxaca ---- nights
memories, circles around
my intimate spaces
remember the bright
penetrating star
thinking about the return of
a thousand miles away nights + days
last stars
and fingers
dreaming in a bed of
Jorge's hair
soft as feathers
as the clouds
goodbye touches
and no goodbye moon in Oaxaca
I don't can't remember the moon
I said I can't remember
Oaxaca en el verano del 98 fue un escape de mi vida en fildelfia de mi vida como madre de mi vida en otra relacion destructiva y demasiado larga.
Recuerdo que mi hermana y yo no estabamos bien. Ella estaba cuidando a Damani que tenia 6 anyos. Cuando la llamo collect ella estaba furiosa. Yo no podia llamar directo porque no habia un telefono en el cuarto. Algo no estaba bien y me dio con miedo. Me hizo sentir tan mal que no confiaba en ella para cuidar al nene. Pase el dia con tristeza y miedo de que Damani no iba estar bien. Al fin Evelyn y Paul fue a buscarlo.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
I am alone in a house full of people.
I live as I did when I was a child.
Always guessing, is today going to be
a good day or a bad day? What does
all the stamping on the floor mean. Is
she trying to get rid of a mouse or
something else or someone else. who
is she talking to when she talks out
loud? When she curses out loud?
When she screams? Is she capable of
hurting real bad? Or Damani? Would
she do anything to him? I can't answer
any of this. I feel like any minute
every minute I'm going to blow up
because I have no peace. No stillness
inside of me. No security I am alone
and lost in the middle of that Blvd. Forging
through across it alone no mother no father
to help me through. No one to hold my hand
while I cross the street. The Blvd that
swallows me up. I don't ask for any
help + theres no one around to offer
me any.Its too early in the morning.
A little girl-looking at all sides of
the street make sure there arent any
cars no danger. but she really
wants someone to hold her hand
Help her across the Blvd. Easy
no rush...no shakes, no stress.
Va ser nueve anyos que murio Mami. Trienta anyos que murio Papi.
Pase toda mi vida esperando para alguien que me cuidara, que me dara la mano,
que me ayudara cruzar la calle con seguridad.
Esa nina de 6 anos cruzo la calle de seis lanes.
Es tiempo de reconocer la fuerza de esa nina, el coraje de esa nina,
el valor y resistencia de esa nina de seis anos navegando ese mundo grande y confuso.
No puedo descuidar a ella, no mas. Es por ella que estoy aqui, viva.
Es por ella que puedo ver el mundo con ojos de esperanza.
Es por ella que pude criar un hijo sensitivo y creativo.
Es por ella que puedo ver un futuro positivo que veo lo positivo en la humanidad.
Es por ella que decidi no brincar,
de no realizar la fantasia,
de liberarme del profundo dolor y ansiedad,
volar de esa ventana,
en mi cuarto,
del apartamento en el quinto piso de nuestra vivienda en la 138 y Cypress Avenue en el sur del Bronx.
Es por ella que estoy aqui.
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