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Thursday, May 29, 2014

of war and peace ::


It tethered on my lips
Nothing
Because in the end
Everything
Is nothing
Wars over raging lands
All end in nothing
In shed blood
There is no right
Or wrong
No side is evil
No army  incorrect
Fighters for
A cause that is not their own
It sat, reposed on the pupil of my eye
Nothing
Because life is nothing
Death and Life
meaningless
What does it mean
And what are we supposed to do?
If we all die
Anyway
Nothing
It all means nothing
And nothing is so encompassing
That it flutters
In my nothing


Sunday, May 25, 2014

Young and Naive


I've fought too many battles to be afraid of the war

I've dressed too many wounds to be afraid of the pain

But, you make me so insecure

Sometimes you seem so brave

When you whisper in my ear

That you love me

Against each and every odd

Yet, I can see it in your face

It filters in your eyes

You're afraid to tell the world

So, I leave and give you freedom

But, you follow after me

Cling to my words

And grasp my hand

Begging me not to leave

I've had too many losses to be afraid of defeat

I've seem too many tragedies to be afraid of hope

And you seem so content

When we lay awake at night

Creating a world

But, then dawn breaks

Clarity dissipates

And the truth washes over us

I've loved you so much to be afraid of whats to come

I've wanted you for long to be afraid of anything

But you seem so young and naive

The beauty of innocence flutters in your glow

And I'm so insecure

And you're so taken

With the silken of my hair

And the red of my lips

And I'm raptured by the depth of your soul

And the map of your curves

Darling don't you see

All of this

Because two people fell in love

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

I'm through

The sun still rises and sets with you

I can't say I don't love you still

Always have always will

You were easy to love

Sun drenched Caribbean sand

And golden locks dampened with the breeze

 But, I'm through with love

Through with you

You left me hand outstretched

Broke my heart

Shattered pieces

Lost and found

Take them as a souvenir

I will never love again

I know

But, I'm through with second chances

Leave, just leave

And never turn back

Leave the keys on the mantle

And lock the door behind you

Take a plane somewhere far

Don't send me a card

I'll take loneliness

Rebuilt the wall you broke down

I'll always love you

Always have, Always will

But, I'm through with broken hearts

And shattered pieces

Just leave

Friday, May 16, 2014

Let me go ::

I often drown in the silence of my thoughts
I want to change someone's life
I want to be remembered for something worth while

I used to say I'd do it
I'd find the cure of loneliness
I was going to be great

But life has trotted me along
And I've yet to be fulfilled

So let me go
Even if it feels unfinished
It isn't the end

And goodbye is the hardest word to say
And to uproot all we know is the hardest thing to do
And to leave all we love is near impossible

I've been putting it off
Been wondering where to start

So let me go



Sunday, May 11, 2014

Mother's Day when she's not here::

Today was hard, harder than the same day last year, or the year before. It was hard because you expect time to ease the pain of loss, but it doesn't. It makes it heavier, it drowns you, the realization of how fast time passes and how easy it is to forget. I can't remember how she felt the last time I visited, I don't remember what the last words I said to her were. I don't remember what she was wearing, not exactly and I can't remember if I cried on the way home.
I told myself that she wasn't going to die. I told her I'd return to spend years with her. I told myself that she would live those years and I imagined them in my head. They are still there, pulsing with the life of what could have been.
I'd finish school and move with the pretext of a Master's and the hope of never leaving. I'd go to school every morning, fight the dirty city traffic, buy fresh bread on they way home and share it with her as I told her about what I had learned, drank milky coffee and watched her fall asleep to my words. I'd learn to drive in the car infested capital, learn to dodge the pedestrians crawling out of dark corners, un-learn the traffic rules of the north and become truly Mexican. On weekends I'd go get groceries, and bake her pumpkin pie, even if it was the middle of summer, she'd tell me odd stories of her glory years, over and over every weekend and sometimes I'd grow weary and my thoughts would wander until she'd tap me and ask if I was listening. I promised her I'd cook for her, and she promised to keep all the kitchen gadgets she had collected in all her years. I promised I'd come back. I had promised it over and over since I was seven. I had lied and when I truly meant it life cheated on us.
I didn't return home to cook for her. And my aunt's have sold the vintage goods. They have emptied out her house of sorts. I haven't baked a single thing and I haven't gone back to school. She didn't even see me graduate. I sometimes break down crying, because grandma meant the world to me.

"I"m never leaving," she had told me once, months before she stopped breathing.

I didn't answer then because acknowledging it meant that she was in fact dying.
But it makes a difference now. She's no longer hurting and that's all that matter. I know it was selfish to keep her but I wanted to make it up. Make it up for all the times I lied, for all those dolls she bought in hopes of me returning and ended up shipping via express mail when the years passed on and I was too old to use them. I wanted to make it up for the bathing suit she bought, perfect orange and purple and she ended up donating to someone else because it was obvious I'd outgrow it before I'd come back. I wanted to make it up for the false hopes, and the tears at airports. I wanted desperately to make it up, all the lost holidays, and lost voicemails, but I knew it was silly. She had forgiven me, because that's what grandmothers do, forgive.
I could choose bitterness. I could choose blame and pointing fingers. I could choose anger but she would not want that. No she'd choose forgiveness, a smile and zucchini bread in the veranda.
I'm doing it for her. I choose kindness, I choose good, I choose to do all she'd want me to. I choose to take her with me along the ride.
Because somehow now it's easier. I can feel her hand upon mine when I've hard a hard day, I can hear her words of wisdom and congratulations on my successes. I can feel her thinning hair upon my shoulder as I rested my head on hers. I can smell her perfume  Yves St. Laurent and vanilla shampoo. I can hear her tell me she's proud, of how I look like her.
I know she'll never leave me. I'll tell my kids about her, I'll show them her picture and tell them how much she meant to me. I'll still celebrate her birthday, but cake and eat it in a cafe somewhere in Europe, because this time she'll go with me. She'll trek the city with me. I know she will.
And for that today is not so hard.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Ghost Town :: Memories of Buena Park


It’s faded the town I grew up in
There used to be a teacher’s shop
On the corner of Beach and Maine
It was a child’s wonderland
Selling pencils and stickers and smelling of books
It stood across from city hall
When city hall was yet to be

We walked everywhere past midnight
We took of our shoes
In the heat of summer
And ran through sprinklers
We weren’t afraid and bought ice cream with wooden spoons

Cars after six were few and far
And mother would stand out in the window
Watching the motel behind
If we were lucky someone would walk outside
And we’d wonder who and why

The church was sparkling new
And we’d all rush after mass
To the only mall that graced the land
A few scared stores
Here and there

We’d come home to
Old sitcoms and troubling news from the big cities
We were on the brink
Suburbia unleashed
In the middle of LA and nowhere
At the edge of innovation and small town glory

It was beautiful
But we didn’t often know it
We do now
When that dinner with plush green booths, and cottage cheese diners
No longer is
There used to be a skating rink a block from my house,
And out by school a pumpkin patch was brought every fall
And a tree barn every winter
They spurred up everywhere
Just like the strawberry farms that made us believe we were close to Earth

It’s a ghost now
A ghost of hardware stores with toy displays
And summer dresses
A memory of years ago
Before the war we could say
Before the war we waged and lost
City people
Just like we once were
Came in and ravaged it

Big constructions and proud restaurant stand now
And we are just like every other place
And the charm is gone
Almost forgotten
In a few spots
The historical claims sprout
Like pieces of history we’ve drawn up

And I almost feel like mother did
When she spoke of her hometown
Of the place that first belonged to her
Before if grew into metropolis
Of quaint family shops
And neighborhood dry cleaners

We have one
I could walk there
But I drive
And they have seen me grow
And I have seen them age
The lady tells me of her grandchildren in Oregon
And the man makes jokes of where I left my dress

But I can’t fool myself
The town I grew up in
Is no more
And I’m afraid
Of what the future is
And how soon I’ll have to find
Another place to take my clothes
Modern and pristine
But they won’t know me
And I wont’ care