Your daily dose of Chicano poetry
"I write poems on walls that crumble and fall
I talk to shadows that sleep and go away crying.”
Luis Omar Salinas (1937–2008)
Superstition
The tree moth in the garage was an omen,
so I killed the messenger:
pulled off its velvet wings
and chewed them with a spiteful mouth.
A delicate crunch of the veins
and I heard nothing else.
My tongue grew thick with their moss.
I swallowed its wisdom with a vengeful mouth
and tasted my own fear.
Rebecca Gonzales
copyright by Rebecca Gonzales from the anthology After Aztlan: Latino Poets of the Nineties
La Peña Presents: Arte Poética, The Dream Poetry Team
La Peña Presents: Arte Poética, The Dream Poetry Team
Sunday, August 10, 2008. 7pm $5.
At La Peña Cultural Center, 3105 Shattuck Ave. in Berkeley.
510-849-2568 http://www.lapena.org/event/836
The Dream Poetry Team descends on La Peña for a powerful evening of poetry.
Francisco x Alarcón, Jack Hirschman, Jose Montoya, and Nina Serrano.
MC by La Peña’s Fernando A. Torres.
Of Age
Was it early morning,
or beyond its edge?
And so, at a certain age
I stepped out to bear the world
before me,
and
my shadow was twice my size;
my image still untold.
I’ve been told beware of intimations—
clinging to my unspoken silence, I sensed
the howling wind had griefs of its own.
Was it late afternoon,
or before its turn?
Tino Villanueva
This poem was taken from Hay Otra Voz
Prayer for the Sun Before Traveling by Francisco Alarcón
Ruiz de Alarcón (II:4)
tla cuel
tla xihualmohuica
Nanahuatzin
achtopa niyaz
achtopa notlatocaz
zatepan tiyaz
zatepan totlatocaz
achtopa nictlamiltiz
in centeotlalotli
in cencomolihuic
ca ye niquiczaz
in Tlalli Ixcapactzin
ahmo nechelehuiz
ca ahmo nelli
Tlalli Ixcapactzin
ca zan ilhuicac
ipan nonyaz
ipan ninemiz
come
help me
Nanahuatzin
I’ll go first
I’ll be on the road first—
then you’ll go
then you’ll follow the road
I’ll be the first to cross
all the desert lands
all the canyon lands
I’ll pass swiftly over
the Earth’s smooth face—
she won’t hinder me
no matter what truly lies
on her smooth face:
up in the sky
I shall go
I shall walk
Francisco Alarcón
Remember Vietnam?
It was Their children
who brought it all Home one day
to those confined in u.s.
(tiger) cages by design.
Fending the flailing
from the hawks ‘n’ the doves
no love lost
objectors ‘n’ defectors
desertion from the ranks
Jailhouse x-mas cards
blazing bodies dripping jelly
(in living color, clipped from LIFE)
flaming children charred on the run
Merry My Lai Massacre, Mothafuckahs!
It was someone else’s sons and daughters, too
who took it to the streets
caught in the clutches
colonial status by decree.
Fighting the flogging
from the hogs ‘n’ the dogs
Moratorium in motion
beautiful blending of Brown
Chale con el Draft.
Chilean greeting cards
protest song proponents
colors of freedom/ voices upraised
LA POESIA ESTA EN LA CALLE.
Bringing it back to the beginning
when they couldn’t say
we lost the war
trapped in the trenches
by command…
And thus, in this here year
of hoop/la, hurdles, and hurrahs
we still
remain to them (a bitter pill to swallow)
the hidden, lurking
conscience-disturbing
Viet Cong.
—escrito en la historica
Casa Quintanilla
a 30 de octubre del 1989
raúlsalinas
To learn more about raulrsalinas or to order his books or CDs, check out Resistencia Bookstore in Austin. web: http://www.resistenciabooks.com; email: revolu@swbell.net, ph. 512-416-8885.”
Xican@ Poetry Daily 