Adios Amiga (?)

...swear i did my best to reach the bottom of your soul
in the end it wasn't meant to be, just wasn't meant to unfold
guess it wasnt in our destiny for you to mention me
or so our fortune told
while next to you i never felt the need to play the role
at all times on you what it was we would do
my mistake, rarely did i get a chance to break through
i was blessed babyboo, it was at all times you
i wanted to protect and hold
now we lost touch and in full retrospect
don't know why i didnt just up and fold
never knew the type of memories i'd collect
the most intimate of friends with mutual respect,
ain't no one relationship perfect
different personalities but now we just cold
success seems to be our only commonality
different means to a mutual goal
all other things i'd much rather forget
put up a damn good fight,
to this day you are my abstract concept hummingbird
that came to my side just to take flight
i stood silently ain't say a word and watched you go
and i'll survive. make it through as i'm known to do
for now we do our thing, make sure we both grow
ain't sayin' good bye pointless now to want to cry
one thing's certain and that's that we're both gonna glow
but whether we'll be together, that i don't know
can't promise that i'll make things right
tomorrow morning will be better
i promise that much, good night...

THE ALTER EGO AWAKES

...where about we find our perceived wicked man
he be meditating deeply in a far away land
prepping the recipe, grinding on a wicked plan
he got troops out to aggressively inspire and command,
midnight medicating and mating
even though he well covered by a determined clan,
he don't need but one solitary dedicated fan,
smothered by swagger
allegedly know much more than he should
still out to market the swanky ass brand
knocking on wood, quite frankly speech never stagger
clutch clandestinely onto an evil flow pattern
the bad guy never had it so good,
clarity run through anything his word touch
story telling talent won't let detail scatter in vein
for detail ain't no rush, wallow in the pain
there’s a message hidden in the random chatter
the call goes out,
you might be rolling a blunt
but no doubt he twisting one fatter
hallow hallways hold secrets the sane won’t entertain
he roll with cold brew in his bladder
they engrain drunken chain of thought leakage
all do gooders look down at our villain
don't wanna see him kick it
cant stand seeing him lounging' and chillin
preppin for hardcore war and out for a killing
brain sharper than his khaki dickies creases
breaking down the wacky into a million little pieces
give him a looped out track, watch him attack
got atheists suddenly screaming out for Jesus
but the anti-hero never loses sight
got a thing for handing out a sweet thesis
low key, he demand the enemy bring on a good fight
so when you grow old you can tell your nephews and nieces
bout losing a battle to an alter-ego
with the sick flow that be on point and tight
elevated to a height where only a select few can actually reach us

Mi Humilde Obsequio

Mira ternura, te suplico; necesito tu ayuda
Disculpa si molesto con este verso que te dedico
Nunca he dicho que soy perfecto
Por ser tan astuta te tengo un infinito y grandioso respeto
Ten en mente que mi palabra es mi humilde obsequio
Pareces como la fruta mas firme
Jugosa te dedico esta prosa
Con ganas de hacerte mi compañera eterna
Y no nada mas mi esposa
Por ti haría cualquier cosa
Cometería cualquier crimen
Eres mas hermosa que el vuelo de mil mariposas,
Por mi mente cruzan imágenes de pasión y mi alma arde
Por ti cortaría mis venas nada mas pa' que entiendas
Que en este momento quiero ser dueño de tus curvas, labios y senos
Desde la mañana hasta la tarde
Sueño con hacerte el amor a lo salvaje
Perdonaría todos tus engaños
Es cierto, soy tu siervo ciego
Quiero acariciar tu cuerpo,
Se que te encanta los momentos íntimos en que te muerdo
Por eso recuerdo ocasiones de silenciosa curiosidad
A nuestra edad como no vamos a perseguir
El llamado de nuestra sexualidad?
No conozco a nadie con tu actitud
Sabiduría, juventud o capacidad
Quizás muchos tienen tu llave
Pero yo cambie el candado
Cansado de que otros siempre te quieran robar
Tuve que cambiar la clave
Quien sabe si lo que tengamos pueda durar
Lo único que se es que no miento cuando
Confieso que te quiero amar
Amor, me ha hechizado el sabor de tu cuerpo
Golosina latina con una calidad mas fina que cualquier otra
Adelita, Quien en el amor a sido mas dichoso?
A nosotros ni nos separa el todo poderoso
No conozco a alguien con las ganas que tienes
Tu entrega me saca de esta cueva de mal estar
Antes de que nos odiemos y suceda nuestra despedida total
Quisiera ahogarme en tu cuerpo
Me acerco para darte un beso, mero
Que se pone bueno, abro los ojos
Desaparece todo, despierto solo
y ahi se acaba este cuento.

Spring and 6th.

She had Gin and Tonics and I had Guinness, we split the rounds, every other round actually. The bar was dark, blasting with funk, hip hop and hipsters. The bar did not at all resemble what it was in its' past life three years ago, no longer dingy, and no traces of its' former clientele. We sat in the back of the bar behind the dance floor across from the pool table where a pimp used to sit and wait for his money in the bars prior life. The spot was dimly lit with twenty somethings in skinny jeans and trucker hats all over the dance floor and pictures of celebrity mug shots on all four walls, we were sitting in the cut sorrounded by Jim, Janis, Kurt, Lil Kim and Bud Bundy.
We talk and laugh, deep conversations and small talk, I make her smile and the smile seems genuine. As she gets a round I cover the table, I notice everyone staring at her, mens eyes follow her figure, I am not jealous because eventually those eyes notice that I am with her and we are there together, this makes me happy. Downtown Artwalk is in full swing as we enjoy our conversation and drinks, time flies and her attention is mine, I use the rest room, there is a scribe in my pocket, my signature is in that bars pisser. When I return she leans over and in an annoyed tone tells me, "why is everyone looking at me?" I reply bluntly, "Because tonight I am with the most beautiful girl here" she brushes the comment off.
For one eternal second we lock eyes in silence and I crave her lips, we talk about hip hop, movies, tattoos, we make bets as to who'll win the different pool games. I blurt out how beautiful she is again, she blushes. It's almost last call and there are two options; food or a last round, after already having had a good number of rounds we go with two Tecate tall cans. We stumlbe out of the bar, Artwalk is pointless now because it has long since finished, we make our way to were she locked her faded turquoise Schwinn, I walk her to her bus stop on Broadway and First, City Hall is next us and I am still making her laugh. I roll a joint and she is impressed by the speed and the skill, rightfully so. We smoke it, we're high and drunk waiting for her bus to Highland Park.
she's standing next to her bike, i'm directly in front of her, there's silence, she knows, she's quiet, she looks off in the distance to see if her bus is near, she looks at me, into my eyes, the kiss catches her off guard, the night has grown colder, I hold her hips and for the first time I am tasting her lips, I hold her tighter. We look at each other in silence, City Hall by our side, we come to a moment of quiet realization and acceptance, her bus arrives she quickly puts her bike on the rack and we hug. A formal kiss on the cheek, she steps in to the bus and the door closes behind her. I cross the street to catch my bus south, roll another joint, I compose a poem and head home.

Fragmento

"... He carried a book at all times, in this urban setting he preffered dissecting stanzas and making music, Edna St. Vincent Millay was a favorite. He understood that through reading he could wear the mask of education and hide his poverty, but all of his knowledge was useless because in his routine there was no real time for reading. Never the less he carried books if only to skim through them, an act that often times lasted weeks... "

Snap shot of a moment

As an only child one of the more difficult things to establish is friendships as opposed to acquaintances. In my path through life I've come across several acquaintances and have even been un-invited from circles of pressumed "friends". I realize now, many years later that it is those that allow me to be me without judgment that I can consider true friends, more so as an hombre that deals with gender privlige on the regular. As of recently I have been actively creating art with other men who are aware of their conciencia and are on the same path of male growth. We create our own sacred space where we can openly discuss our troubles and insights, heal from systematic perspectives that have been embeded into a mans psyche. It is a difficult process because it is constant, daliy and ever present, but when I am around these other males that have become part of my being, I realize that BECAUSE of these friends we will acheive our intended goal, because these individuals are more like brothers than they are friends, there are no masks only real talk and being an only child it is something I cherish dearly. The photo is courtesy of David A. Phillips Photography. David A. Phillips Photography

LIBERATION THEOLOGY

@N@RC@FL@W - Liberation Theology
*Published by SFSU's yearly Raza Studies literary journal, "Cipactli"


I’ll create a radical faction and
Go up to the Vatican
Melt all their gold and silver
Bring it back again
So my peoples could live rich and
Mad extravagant
Don’t give a fuck if you
Come from a long line of lavish kings
I’m not havin’ it
Pocket check homey!
You wanna see some real savages?
Rob ostentatious cathedrals and Parishes
You’ve lost all abilities to translate
Your sacred bible passages - tremble
I’ve come to wake these sleepy pacifists
See, my temples also had symbols
Mad rubies, emeralds
And magic shit
Best believe I’m a bitter beaner
All the better,
Makes me that much more passionate
Imagine it, melt down metals
Every last crucifix
Who’s really blasphemous?
Can it be we can actually
Re-write history?
Who’s down to practice it?
Theological sorcery
How you gone say we were saved
When you did that shit forcefully
Through torturing
Made a killing off our dying
Say I’m lying
Global crime ring
That stretches centuries
And even though this is just a poem
Know you’re down fall is coming,
Because corrupt power fails eventually.

Soñando.

Hay veces en que extraño mi tierra,
hace años que ya no veo mi pueblito
Dios bendito, ya no aguanto esta mierda,
Mi memoria guarda una preciosa colonia que existe solo en mi sierra
Conozco cada calle, cada curva cada valle
Pero no se que hay de nuevo en mi lejano pueblo
mas lejana que una estrella
Me fui pa’l norte y le pedi a Dios que me acompañe
Ando sobreviviendo en el gabacho aqui de campesino
En una pizca de sufrimiento recojiendo estas malditas uvas de vino
Me la rifo machin y nunca me rindo, seria tan lindo
Le ruego a Dios que me preste vida pa mi gran regreso
Jaula de oro, trabajo, me chingo
Desde que llegue a este pais he sido un criminal preso
Me duele el alma mas que me duelen mis huesos
No se si es culpa del capitalismo o culpa del gringo
Dios sabe cuanto deseo volver a esa tierra que me dio vida
cuanto quiziera respirar el aire de mi ranchito
suplico, protesto y grito, no soy de los que mendigan
siempre explotado por la burocracia y el rico,
socios ambiciosos con cada una de sus mordidas
sigo invisible esperando superar este nivel
en un pais que me ve como una mierda por no tener aquel pinche papel
politicos presumen preocupar, pero puro pretexto
Porque mi voto no vale
por eso lo de un sueño americano a mi no me sale
En mi mente puedo veer una grandiosa victoria
Un nuevo amanezer, me pregunto en silencio
Si asi es como este asunto debe ser,
Vivir en un pais que me necesita pero no respeta
Pa cualquier cosa siempre tengo lista mi pequeña maleta
Soñando con querer visitar aquel lugar que hace muchos años atras
Me vio nacer