The series

The series

The struggle is real
living out honestly
say what you feel
be a voice that
activates
not merely
regurgitates
requires
meditating
contemplating
evaluating
the world at large

the struggle to love
openly
showing vulnerability
requires
special capability
but to love
is magic
the most special
of abilities

overcoming is a struggle
adversity
creates
tenacity
resilience
is born from
perspicacity
break
blocks
weave your dreams
to reality.

A song

A song

But not of desperation

instead

it’s a fight to believe

in the American dream

that I was raised with.

Physicians are in the position

to make life or death decisions

or if they even want to listen

to your symptoms.

we are all sick

with chronic limiting beliefs

pained with bills

and bills

and bills

making us ill

driving to kill

it’s dog eat dog.

We are suffering from

blurred visions

our dreams hiding

behind perpetual fog.

Yes we are sick

with food poisoning

Gmos

that companies blame on

UFOs.

meat infused with

growth hormones

dollar menus

causing

heart disease

diabetes

cancer

leaving

patients popping

pharmacy pill prescriptions.

Organic supermarket

fed by the rich

to make revenue

But inequality

and inequity

are not new

to this venue.

This country was built

by slaves

No one giving two fucks

about the lives

they gave.

We are sick

sick

sick

But America

you can still be beautiful

from the Redwood forests

to purple magic mountain majesty,

the fight is not over

nor the struggle to be free

Yes America

I’m fighting to believe

looking for a cure

for my symptoms

to be relieved.

Experience

Experience

Rain
drenched
clothes.
Pigeons at church
Bell tower mass

Pavement bouncing
with wounded words
thrown at children
absurd
I testify
against injustice.

mom and pop are
closing shop
chains and chains
attack
straws on
broken backs.

Anyone hiring?
Window shopping
just admiring
Cycle conditions
are tiring.

Unity and scrutiny
will restore
the purity.

Voice is my choice
Simple like
how morning grass
is moist.
Not time to fear
The struggle is here.

Heights

Heights

City life

Busy streets

people walking that

beat

 

When in the grind,

you’ll find yourself

counting nickels

pennies

dimes

 

Work late, early

rise before the

sun wakes up

to shine

 

Forgot what it’s

like to wine and

dine. shit got real

might even steal

 

lines, public

transportation

hustle and bustle

people

 

Contemplating

 

Never signed

up for it. Struggle

affects the

mind

 

Strait jack

bind, houdini

money, appears

then

 

Remember hungry

or cold, born to survive

roots in the

divine.

 

 

 

A tale

A tale

Living the cement

American dream

millions chasing

the kite’s

Blue, red, white

Tail

Only to meet

Blood sweat tears

Harsh reality.

Parenting in shifts

Breeding soldiers

of struggle

Papi couldn’t learn

English quickly

Factory life

Gasoline worker

At night

Smell embedded

In his hands

Ser buen pobres

is what he taught

me, in another

life you were a

Ñusta princess

somehow

we inherited

Poverty, but we

descend from

royalty

make dignity

Your throne.

Mami reeked

Of onions

Night shift

Work beast

Don’t touch me

She said

Let me wash up

Wash the

Blood

Sweat

Tears

Making ends meet

Was always

their fear.

White oven waiting

with dinner

we all ate alone.

Independence day

Was every day

sisters raising

brothers,

brothers raising

sisters.  The unlucky

ones were all

on their own.

Sewed up glasses

Ham cheese

sandwiches

these are

some of my least

favorite things.

An invisible hand

chased all of us

pointing out

our differences

The accents

Holey clothes

Kmart blue

Light special

Shoes

The lack of

Snack packs.

All used as

Ammo for a

taunting attack.

A boat would bring

Those far, near to

Hotel Manor.

I saw my blood

Sweat

They would leave.

Finding myself

In an ocean

of salty

tears

That’s where the

hand tried to drown

me, pushing me

Under to not

breathe success

I glimpsed and saw

We were all there

My brothers

My sisters

Soldiers

With determination

In our eyes

The hand couldn’t

Stop us all

We were

On the rise

Together holding hands

Taking back our

freedom.

United we stand

planting The seeds

for our money trees

Red picket fences

Or whatever

We damn well pleased.

I never did get that

Crown

but I was blessed

with a voice

to make injustice

frown.