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Tag Archives: Heart

Pieces of Peace #21

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butterfly-lens-flare

Whenever I teach my students

how to write “Where I’m From” poems

I crave the past,

popsicles and Christmas tree flocking

falling on presents Mommie promised

I crave Nana’s baking

her back aching

and her cigarette scented hugs.

I peek into poetic memories

of young writers now college scholars

and I read.

I read Where I’m From poems

from 2002 and 2004

Precious people whose paths and mine

crossed

and tangled footprints in sand

eventually blew with wind and tears

back to my heart

where I protect the peace

in each piece I read.

I find my poem from 2008

When I was from making enchiladas

and summers in swimming pools

But I sense some missing peace

in my piece.

I don’t read that aloud

but it still shouts and makes my skin sweat.

Instead I listen

to what my class is writing

in a 15-minute warm-up.

Every voice is valued.

I praise one for its musical memories

Another for its vivid visuals of family traditions

But when I hear rich rhymes

and unexpected innocence

about loving frogs and butterflies

from the kid who never tries

I saw his light shining from trickster eyes.

I’m from never giving up

just keep writing

you’re on this one

and poems have power.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pieces of Peace for our King on 4-4

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I had no idea that this Pieces of Poetry #4 would fall on the 4th day of the 4th month, the same date that we lost our peaceful leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

This quote by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on December 11, 1964 was part of his Nobel Peace Prize Lecture, “The Quest for Peace and Justice.” He said, “The richer we have become materially, the poorer we have become morally and spiritually. We have learned to fly the air like birds and swim the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together as brothers.”

Pieces of Peace for our King

We have learned to fly the air like birds

and swim the sea like fish

but we have not learned

the simple art

of living together as brothers.

We judge one another

while looking into eyes mirroring ourselves

We label to better define

that which needs no definition

We are divided

not only by those who seek division

but by our own selfish needs

to box beauty, brains, and beliefs.

All that we have accomplished

never matches achievements

in heart and spirit.

If our melanin still threatens

and our strengths weaken

we have attained nothing.

I pray for the day

when humanity’s moral and spiritual heart

beats louder than the drumming

of egos and property.

 

 

 

Flawless Camouflage

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Behind flawless camouflage

lives

an unarmed soldier

naked

ashamed

of truth

wearing steel smiles

undetected metal

guarding her heart

joy-entrapping

black blinders

closed

until truth

gets leaked

between dreams

written in the dark

and words whispered

in the light

 

 

 

 

 

How to Remove Stains (Part 2)

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Every stroke of the brush

and the roller

up and down repetitions

hour after hour

permanently covering what was

revealing the beauty of what is.

A cool shade of grey

calm shade of blue

no signs of stains streaking through.

Organizing years of chaos

final phases of renewal

unidentifiable junk

unattached cords

broken bulbs

solicitation mail

forgotten dreams

trashed.

Photos

permanently stained

photos

of my babies’ love

photos

family facades

photos

in boxes

in albums

in frames

some display-worthy

some not safe for home

some ripped

like the bond

covered like painted walls

poured into drains

like murky water.

Peaceful awakenings

warm greetings

restful nights

stainless

wall-to-wall

heart-to-soul

tranquility.

Finally.

 

 

 

 

 

Tanka #18 Let Go

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image

remember balled fists

hold negative energy

dark, heart-eating worms

crawl free when my wounded palms

open and release in love

Her Haiku Healing: A 40-Day Spiritual and Emotional Journey

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Day 31: Hurt

ripples

Empty promises

bricks dropping in still water

ripples through my heart

Her Haiku Healing: A 40-Day Spiritual and Emotional Journey

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shoesinsand

Day 18

Until you walk in

my shoes, soles in quicksand dreams

You can’t judge my heart

Short Story in Progress…Orgasmic Coffee

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“I’ll make breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Morena, mi princesa, you know I’m famished. But not for food right now.”

Franco pulled me closer to him, a target in the middle of the bed.

“Are you ready to feed me?” His lips tickled the nape of my neck, making me giggle and tingle. My toes instantly curled.

“What would you like me to serve you this morning, mi amor?”

“First, I want quiet. Then, I want you to lie back and let me eat to my heart’s content. Let me hear you moan. Then, beg me to not to stop.”

Franco pulled the sheet back and I turned over. He straddled me, and I looked into hungry eyes. I was quiet until he devoured me. I’m so addicted.

Franco, my orgasmic coffee.

 

Fixations

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picofpoem

 

Opening myself to your poem

Willing to flow with your rhymes

And fixate on your tones

The last time I fell in love

The lyrics sang like a blues song.

Does your love story

Live happily ever after

Will the audience give us

An ovation and shouts for an encore

Because the last time I fell in love

I stood alone

No encore

No sequel

No cast.

If I let you read me

Promise to turn the pages gently

Use your heart as my bookmark

Skim some sections

Study those in between

Sound out my syllables

Let them live on your tongue

Rest on your lips

And then create a love scene

Too passionate to be played

On my pages.

 

 

She Who Shields

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heart mosaic

The quiet, gentle man who

accepted her past with care

and took none of her present for granted

Took a chance on love

 

Who listened without pause

and tugged at tangled heart strings

Until she found comfort in his hold

 

Who promised he would wait

Who said time would heal

Wounds she whispered through her shield

Doesn’t want to lose again

 

His words were laced in lilac

Whose thoughts simmered on warmth

Who fell in love with her shattered pieces

is patient like dusty shoes

 

Who secured a cozy corner

Between soul and desire

Reserved and protected

for the day when flowers dance with wind chimes

 

Whose hand touched hers

Whose eyes locked in 20-20

Whose affection could mend

shards into her mosaic masterpiece

 

If only for a moment

She would trust his intentions

and return them without strings attached

not spiked with doubt

 

Could he who loves

be loved too?

 

(This poem was inspired by Sandra Cisneros’ poem “Abuelito Who”)