Love poem for a chilly evening.

i could drowned you with beautiful words
overwhelm you with honesty
and saturate you with compliments
but i won't
i will be humble but confident
and i'll tell you this,
you make me smile.

At the edge.

At the edge of manifest destiny
And determined to do well
While we wonder in amazement
Sunset and sand
On the road
Admiring the formation of bird flocks
Sequenced in flight, even as the wind blows
The fury of waves as rocks stand solid
The enormity that is ocean set to a back drop
Spiritual seekers surrounded by cloudy thought
On a path to humble higher consciousness
Expose the ego, submit to the collective
Speak sacred spells as time stands still
We are here merely to do creators will
And we will
On a path towards our collective past
For the sake of all our relations
And those who’ve yet to be born
We are strangers turned comrades
Now kin
And on this road we seek ancient spirit within
Staring off into the sun
And the heat of the sun heals the soul
And waves crashing remind us of our stature
And the sun setting remind us of our humanity
And here we stand. Hopeful that we will heal
And we will

Out to make you smile.

home skillet i'm finda open up my mouth and kill it
this is for nobody but you so i sincerely hope you feel it
desde la primera vez que te vi
quize regresar aqui, donde mero mori
me encanta la manera en que tu me miras a mi
you nothing like a redundant broad
broke through the mask, dismantled my facade
know that you're a blessing so i gotta thank God
let me tell you first that as a man, i'm flawed
worst thing i could do is tell you that i'm not
can't lie to you because i've shown you what i got
ghetto book worm and i'm an open book
got me with one sweet smile and one soft look
with that and one palabra was all it really took
eres terremoto, how you got me shook
and you snatched up my attention
as if you were a crook
now all that's left to do is to loop the beat
close my eyes and spit the fucking hook

(HOOK)
walked into my life / and you came with honesty
now i'm really diggin' what it is you do to me
and now that i'm here / hope to stay for a while
coz I’m that dude that’s out to make you smile

desde nuestro primer encuentro, no miento
he regresado a mi centro,
all of a sudden i'm remembering what's essential
damn near forgot with all the fake feelings
i been through, i been grew
growth is the new shit i'm into
that being said, boo,
i'm glad that i'm witchu
just as hood as me,
yes i keeps it that simple
charmed like a muahfucka by you and them dimples
haber que encontramos en estos nuevos cuentos
seducido por tus labios de rubi,
words can't fully explain what it is you do
beauties like yourself tend to set my soul free
being from the hood girl you know i keep it gee
en mis ojos eres the sweetest memory
all i can hope for is you don't forget me
can't no one decipher my words quite like you
and its that fact that helps my dreams stay true
because from where i'm at i got a clean view
you're more like a dream
that didn't flake and came through
so for being by my side,
this is more than a spit
it's my humble thank you

(HOOK) 2X
walked into my life / and you came with honesty
now i'm really diggin' what it is you do to me
and now that i'm here / hope to stay for a while
coz I’m that dude that’s out to make you smile….

The Message.

is freedom what i'm gettin' or freedom that i'm robbin?
don't test the knowledge i have hidden in my noggen'
invest in answers, don't see any problems,
trues out all day ready to steady solve’em
the movement growing and every day evolvin'
going to the top got tired of the bottom
challenging masters, cutting off our cancer
whatever it takes to stop’em
they ain’t nothing homey, they scared,
we got them sucker chumps
they aint but bumps on the road
when we explode we that much closer
to polishing our mode, on point and proper
got a skill to plant chills in poseurs
deep hatred for infiltrators, provocateurs, coppers
solidarity sacred, united
russian cocktail been ignited
metaphoric missiles pointed at ghetto choppers
moving forward can’t no one stop us
everyone invited, props to us
this type of education should be popular
dissected, molecular,
and made into medication
results can be monsterous
to the system disastrous, look at us
broke free, didn’t count on the last of us
focused strongly, collectively angry
and they wonder why we gangsterous
just for the record, remember this
there’s lot’s of us with collective memory
and it’s there where we refuel our energy
had to have known that they’d eventually
remember us. Can’t no longer censor us
can’t give a fake message and baffle us
we on our game, under estimated the strength of da brain
now we all up in this piece
and we out to do our thang

For a Poet.

she is not a poetess,
she is a poet
she demands respect
as do all poets,
she is a poet
respect her as such.

The Kitchen.

Monday morning
they enter,
eat,
leave
classes intermingle
vendors place orders
-Aprons
different radio stations
simultaneously blast
the day has begun
around the kitchen
belts are sold
caps, shirts, c.d.'s
other cocinas
-Fresh agua de melon
delivery boys
working class clientele
working class operation
paisitas and compas new to the city
empty tour bus
fancy cars
dirty busses.

florycanto

my literary muse was sitting beside me
and we were listening to elder chicano poets
she was attentive
and was very critical
one of the panelists said something
about poets now a day focusing too much on
"I"
and we thought he was crazy
we saw ourselves in twenty years
the radical, the academic
the ever present ivory tower
the poets spoke of one Brown Buffalo
being followed by CIA agents
and having an after party at Buff's pad
over in the east side
i imagined a room full of young poets
drinking and smoking
inspiring one another
and then my muse pulled out a pen
and on the florycanto event program
she began writing
i looked over enough to see that she WAS writing
i am most attracted to my muse
when she puts words on paper
but i didnt look enough to see what she was writing
that's an intimate moment that i respect
one chicano poet was the veterano of the bunch
a second was an academic that loved to hear himself speak
his wife was a poet as were his children
a third poet had presence
we didnt stick around long enough for the last poet
the academic read five poems too many
but the best poet was on black and white celuloid
a mystery mujer from a 1979 recital
she had a nice stack of stanzas in her hand
her words were the most visual
a true poet
she reminded me of my muse
it was the 200th birthday of our motherland
we went back to the pad, in the kitchen we spoke of words
in another there was music
we smoked cigarettes and drank beer
we danced, i showed her the bands lyrics
she loves letters as much as i do
by nights end we were all drunk
and then i got the privlige of having her steal
one of my books, a book on Ricardo Flores Magon
my muse knows little shame
letters and words are of more importance
than any other woman that may enter my life
she is my literary muse for a reason
and with that our night came to an end