Gitane

For the first time I'm going to Mexico and it doesn't feel like I'm going home. It isn't home anymore, it is a remote land, far, far away, buried in photo albums and memories from youth. A youth as crazy as my midlife, but it did use to spin faster. Now I just hang on and enjoy the ride. Still, I know I will miss home, which is what Seattle has become, Yes, I am Mexican.
I am also American, ever since I was born, I'm going knowing I sent my absentee ballot on time and hopeful that we will embrace change and together face this broken economy and condemn the corrupt government. I will be following the vote count from Mexico and hoping we will come together and chose wisely.
I'm off to visit Teotihuacan and Mixquic anonymously, feeling like Dickinson under the Pyramid of the Moon

Toro Corazon

It was Yesterday afternoon
a day, like any other
the day least thought
it had rained in the morning
it was cloudy later on
but there he was
standing by the door
waiting outside, impatiently
I heard the beating
like a drum in tremolo
and then, when I opened the door
he stared at me
and jumped in my arms
I'm so full now
so complete
it's like the sun came out
I wasn't sure he would find it's way home
not since I had moved to Renton
and there he was
and now I have him back
a dog?
no, of course it's not a dog
if it was it would probably bark
it is a strong, Spanish bull
it is my heart.

Cold Steel

My head hurts
the migraines, the pain
the fever, the stomach ache
the twisted horns
coming out on my head
the night is my veil
Chinese screen of darkness
comes to cover my sins
the blood, the thirst
the sins, my bed
and warm wet circles

I wear a mask
portray control
leather boots
and a riding crop
a cross for buckle
and belt
all dressed in black
my disguise is ready
and Mixquic will see me born
into what will become my uniform
on my return to the Seattle night.

Miss A

I could thank you for bringing the sunshine
it was a rainy week when you arrived
and the warmth of your face was nice to have
I could acknowledge you for the courage
and the endless support you've given me
steel and concrete sentences
daily phrases of encouragement
to keep rowing
to keep flying
brick by brick
word by word

But with you here
and the softness of your hands
which formed an unexpected cloud
Thank you for not caring
or at least ignoring
the daily insanity and chaos
I sometimes dare call life

Thank you for the sunshine
for letting me show you this city
that has adopted me
as one of its own
thank you for embracing every special place
every gust of wind
every latte and quiche
for your smile
and many more things I couldn't number
thank you for the sunshine
for the sunbeam of your smile
April
for the trees are dressed in reds
and my shoes keep getting wet
for yesterday the city cried a little
but no one noticed
cause they all thought it was rain.

After 8 Years

Will you be able to retire?
Almost 200.000 people lost their job just last month alone.
An administration that gives tax cuts to companies that outsources and offshores American jobs cannot be American.
An administration that drowns a this Nation in the biggest debt in History cannot be American.
An administration that Vetoes bills to help Vet's is not American.
After 8 Years:
7 Trillion Debt
Stock Market collapsed
Banks Bankrupt
Homes Foreclosed
Civil Rights Eroded

If you can't see this is the path to becoming a Third World Country then I hate to say this: I'm not a POW but my dad was a Vet. I'm an American but I'm also a Mexican. I grew up in Third World Countries, and America is starting to head in that direction, clearly. If you love this Country like I do, please put the Economic interest of this Nation above racism. This Economic disaster can't continue, it's time to change the course.

Blind Curve

Should I walk away?
squeeze the knob
and turn the key?
I can't
Your kiss undressing my smile
like an arrow of bees
on your candle lit bed
I can't
you're handcuffed
but I can't
I look at you, on your knees
as if in penitence
with your tiny bare feet
on the floor, by the window
looking at me as if waiting for...
patience...
sometimes pleasure
is a pressure cooker
and my mind is about to explode
roaming through the different avenues
what to do with you first?
and what do you want?
No, not that, so vanilla
throw your taboos out the window
open your shame closet
and tell me
what is it that you angst for?
and I smile like a fountain
when you tell me it's me
I could almost cry instead of...

I sit and ponder
dream in wonder
and drool in cherry chloroform
when I think of the love we make

I dip my finger
in lady Godiva chocolate
caught in the bondage and decadence
of your derriere in that skimpy black dress
like a baby grand piano
insanity, impatience
sleep deprivation, control
you've come for control
and at the edge of the bed
almost about to fall
we make love like a hanging bridge.

The Road to Aztlan

The steel cage around my chest
feels tight
the bull in me
roaring, huffing and puffing
is ready to run back home
if only for a few days
I'm sick homesick
My eyes are tearing
sometimes
my heart is naked and bloody
humbled by the heights, my spirit
ready to board the aluminum bird
with it's loud hissing chant
I'm ready
my soul is ready
to climb to the top of the post
and dance in circles
with earth, water, wind and fire
as the Papantla Flyer that I am
I'm ready to take the road to Aztlan

Will you be there waiting for me?
will she be there?

What if I expect your heart
open like an umbrella?
The colorful marketplace, fresh fruit
pinatas and the man selling balloons
what if I expect the streets
to cry in rain?
ride on the orange snakes
that travel underground

Witness the sunset at the Pyramid of the Moon
overlooking the Avenue of the Dead
in Teotihuacan

Walk the cobblestone streets in Tepoztlan
while my eyes go looking
for flying saucers in the sky
and spend some nights and days
in my home, with my roots and my womb
to my Mother and to where I am from
there I could die and sleep in peace

Meet with old friends
and talk about how we are getting older
meet their kids and see me as an uncle
and yes, why not? sin with a lover
and drink her honey water "aguamiel"

But my stubborn spirit yearns for the darkness as well
the path to Mictlan is calling me
to the underworld, the parallel
to Mizquic and celebrate the dead
the dead that are coming back
while I immerse in a stupor of copal
myrrhand frankincense
sailing through a cemetery of masks
skulls and candles
chants, rosaries and prayers
and the souls of some of those we miss
like my soul misses some of you
and when you take the children trick or treating
remember I'll be in Mexico
sweating in the hot steam of the temazcal
letting my spirit run free
that's my treat
no tricks
just magic.