BusI've wanted to write a poem about my bus rides
But I can’t stand still enough to seat all the way through this ride
Zeus! - This ride has been rare to say the least.
I see the bus driver and his heart warming smile
I see brothers who oppose each other.
Sometimes as the wheels roll
I get a good dose of sunlight
Other days the sky is dull and humid and depressed
As the bus rocks sometimes I see other people like me
Yet they’re not like me. And old Mexican woman from Oaxaca
Some Mexican men who are brunt from working in the under the reign of Helios
And they probably seek for Guadalupe’s help from day to day.
I've also seen homeless people with no God to call theirs.
Who roam from town to town, seeking friends and strangers, and they are always reproached by family.
I think once I also saw a transgender individual with her supportive brother or lover…. Seating next to her, meanwhile I thought that sight was sweet and heartwarming.
Though a most peculiar sight that
PaperShe came to our house and talked about many things that were written upon paper
She talked about happiness; her discourse came from a piece of paper
She conversed about God’s Law; and that too came from the same piece of paper
She insulted the beauty of the World
She suggested that Hawaii is a showcase of God’s beauty and hand about!
But I've seen the wonderful Monarchs in the forest of Mexico
As they flutter about
Shading green pines with their orange wings
Taking over every leaf that was colored green
Fluttering a ballet of life and dance in the light of the sun that came through a concealed forest
They were the best thing I have ever seen; yet this woman put it all upon paper along with Hawaii; a beauty that I’ll dream about and one that’s only on paper
And erased a moment so precious that must be restored from ashes of burnt paper
For why should beauty and happiness be found only upon paper?
And also why should we follow laws given by God and Governme
The American Dream is a LieThe American Dream is a lie
A creation crafted by Rich Men
I order to keep……. The poor dreaming
To keep the poor dreaming, about the rich, and to distract them
To distract the poor from asking their unhumble Politicians
From…. Improving human condition
The American Dream is a bed time story
That is told to poor children
So that they may envy Rich children
And forget about poverty and hunger
The American Dream allows us to deny that the country is astray
That our Republic is slipping down the pipe lines
That the Capitalist Harlots are molesting this Nation
They are molesting this Nation under one God
That one God is green
And has promised diamonds and happiness to his cult members
And has promised an illusion that is more false then Disney’s promise of love
That God is The American Dream
And his High Priest seats in the White House, the church of that almighty God!
No matter what banner hangs behind the high alter
No matter the color of the banner
The SnakeI was asleep
And found myself
In a tropical forest with pink ferns
And tall trees
With a dark and warm night
And light breeze
Blew across the dreamy scenery
I was on a tree
And a snake slithered up to me
It commenced to talk
And what could it talk about?
All snakes inquire, that’s what they do.
The snake asked me to consider if I, if I’d like to beaten by it
It hissed it tongue up and down
And gazed at me with black button eyes
Anticipating an answer
I considered the thought of being beaten.
Would it hurt? How should I know?
It might tickle? It might burn?
Thought it’d be just like dying; how can anyone know if hell and heaven are there?
I thought once more…. Knowing that if I said no, I might never get another chance to get bitten by a snake
-Talking or not-
I answered yes-no-yes- Oh hell yes
Before I could change my final answer
He bit me……………..
Pain ran up my leg
I woke up with a cramp …….
That vile dev
I’m an Aztec
I've got brown eyes
I speak Spanish
I am brown
I've got black straight hair
And some strange eyes that captivate girls and boys
I am American ….. This is my homeland ……
Filled with countries from the North Pole all the way down to the tip of the South Pole
It has a long river
An extensive forest
Some dry deserts
There are deer and bears
Jaguars and parrots
Guayaba and hibiscus
Are both good when drunk cold!
La Tortilla Latina has a Crown
It is made of corn and wheat
Our singers are black and come from the sea
Our singers are white and come from mainland
We the people are brown and descend from indios
¡Yo soy Latino!
Eres guapoEres guapo
Como la luna
That’s all I can think of
You by the moon
Eso ojos bellos
They shine in the light of the sun
And every night they kill me in my dreams
tú estás conmigo siempre
Eres una rosa roja
Y me vuelvo loco por ti
You’re the one that I need
And yet life doesn't want it so
Come and be my amante
And give me besos
En la boca
Title XIt was a hot day unlike any other summer day. The sun was like a cat clawing the sky in the summer evening as if it were a curtain.
It was a hot summer day and the dark sidewalk was melting away as a slow weak breeze blew across the land.
All of the creatures under heaven's doom were dying from the heat of the day. Yes; all of the creatures under heaven's doom were dying from the heat of the day, save for two creatures.
They are two creatures who under Helios’s pitiful kingdom; his eyes burning through the land every soul that inhabits the land of the cruel summer.
Helios’s eyes burned through everything except for a passionate love that hid behind a window.
Behind that window a different god had managed to burn the bodies that are inside the room that it must belong too. Eros has burned a golden arrow through two men.
Eros himself watches these hunks he touched with his arrow.
He saw as they both walked in the morning
He saw as the both made eye contact
He saw how they bot
Winter To SpringWinter To Spring
Three days and two nights
The ghost wails through this room
And walks through my walls
as if they were made of thin air
He is black, no, he has a black vial
and wears a golden grown
as his thin stick like figure
like an ice skater on an ice ring
haunting through the house
He wails my name
like an echo
my name resound
throughout the night
and his crown glitters like the stars
as he quenches his thirst
for my blood......
that he will be back
and the one after that one
to seek my blood
like a vampire he'll
kiss me one night
and in my dreams suck out all my air
like a snake injects poison
through its veins
and at last to meet my one true love
the ghost of death
he is for sure to come and be
there for me
like the promise of spring's new bound flowers
after the winter's cold death.
It Could Have Been YellowIt would have been blue
But now it's green
All the red people want
And the orange people
Seek purple lovers
Sunny days never
Ever make them happy
And they play in the mud
Like pigs do
But yellow for me
Is a dandy color
Much like the sunflowers
That dance with the blue breeze
And like the bees that fly home
In the evening light of a dying sun
I could have been bronze
But now it is silver