Thursday, February 4, 2016
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Monday, February 1, 2016
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Madre Mia
My mother has been a single parent since my father passed away in 1998. I don't know how she did it, but I'm here, we're here. Ode to her.
Madre mia
me dicen que me miro como ella
pero no tengo esos ojos castanos que lloran quando los mios lloran
le he llamado muchos nombres pero la unica que suma y que es irrevocable es mama, mother, mami
la que me dio la vida, y que me da de comer:
me encanta la jamaica (de la buena) que ella prepara
y no me olvido
no podemos escojer nuestra mama pero si podemos escojer como tratarla
Apprecio y amo a mi Lulu o Michelle. Si soy su guardaespalda. :P
My Mother
They tell me I look like her
but I don't have those hazel eyes that cry when mine cry
I have called her many names but the only name that sums up and that is irrevocable is mama, mother,mami
the one that gave me life, the one that feeds me:
I love the jamaica (the good kind) that she prepares
and I don't forget
we can't choose our mother but we can choose how to treat her
I appreciate and love my Lulu or Michelle. Yes I am her bodyguard. :P
The above I began writing last year for Mother's Day but never finished nor published. I have not shared this with my mom, but will. Sorry for any misspellings or grammar; I tried. :)
Monday, March 24, 2014
¿Por que? Pourquoi? WHY?!
Sunday, February 23, 2014
silent MIStreatment
Surrounded by piercing silence
one must ponder when one does not want to speak to another
to what extremes do they wish to exceed
one's respect? pride?
they become the one thing they said they weren't: rude which makes me brood
in what kind of mood? one of distaste
volatile silence
I must say
one can play
two can too
utterly in dismay
a big boo boo
my pen stops
but the silence remains.
who won?
not me
I hope you're happy.
Because I'm not.
Who would be?
I wish I didn't care
but I did, do.
one must ponder when one does not want to speak to another
to what extremes do they wish to exceed
one's respect? pride?
they become the one thing they said they weren't: rude which makes me brood
in what kind of mood? one of distaste
I must say
one can play
two can too
utterly in dismay
a big boo boo
my pen stops
but the silence remains.
who won?
not me
I hope you're happy.
Because I'm not.
Who would be?
I wish I didn't care
but I did, do.
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