Gentle Love

Past the rush of first kisses 
Now where my soul goes to rest
Lying in the tall green grass underneath the sun cycle of many years
With the backdrop 
of the snowcapped mountains
50 miles away but close enough to touch
My head on your shoulder, our place in the world found, eyes closed 
Listening to the waves of the Sound
Break on a shore of beach glass and rocks 
Hearts full, hands entwined
Breathing in the spice of evergreen trees freshly washed in the soft,  silent mist

Manifest Destiny

I want you to be expansive 
Lift your arms to the sky and be as big as you can
Take up the space you need to breathe deep
Lift your arms until your gold and silver bangles clink against your dark skin
Each bracelet defiant against those who said to shush--
Speak less, moderate your tone,
Less harsh, less loud, less colorful, 
Less power.
Stand firm and wide on the ground you claim
The wind can blow at your colorful skirt, press against your shape, but it won't knock you over
Keep the big hoops in your ears
And your curly hair down
Beads on your neck and rings on your hand
Make all the noise you want
Do not let yourself be contained, be silent, be tamed
Keep all the pieces of yourself 
When you are cut bleed, bleed so they see the damage 
Scream, scream so loud they have to look
If they run, take up that space also
Use the fuel of everything you've swallowed
To expand, to grow, to birth the life you nurtured.

Chingada

La Malinche

Sacagawea 

Pocahontas 

Cast as Eve 

So white men can love them 

Be absolved for gifts they stole 

Lands and women they raped 

She asked for it 

So brown men can blame them 

Have a name for all they lost 

Hijos de la chingada 

She gave it to them 

Hail Mary full of grace 

Bear the sins of our race 

Virgin cast as mother 

To pay the debts of Eve 

Missing and murdered 

Indigenous Women 

Brown girls with stolen stories 

Whose bodies bear witness-- 

to violence wanting retribution. 

#memories

In Trinidad, don't

fall into the pitch lake 

stuck, like the woolly mammoth 

in the hot tar of another contitent

with the taste of spicy mango and asphalt.

Candy

Heat the candy soft 

Don't burn 

Cool the candy firm 

Not hard 

Pull the candy thin 

Don't break

My House Remembers

My house is old 

So old it remembers when miners would pan for gold 

So old the glass is wavery, like rainbows 

So old the kitchen stove glows 

Warm and cozy 

So old there are secret spaces 

So old it remembers many many faces 

My house remembers when it was little 

And it grew room by room 

My house is so old it has bricks made by hand 

And wood from giant trees from this land And metal forged by fire, shaped with hammer and hands 

My house remembers when I was born When my mother was born 

When my grandmother was born 

My house remembers 

Because there are newspapers in the walls And treasures buried underneath 

My house is so old

It used to be the only house 

My house remembers when there were no streets, very few cars, and many gardens

My house is so old 

But it remembers how to keep us warm in the winter 

And cool in the summer 

It remembers how to store food in the cellar And memories in the attic. 

Inheritance

My body held stories before I could hold a pen to shape letters 

My stomach is full of recipes salted by generations and seasoned with time 

My ears ring with whispers of songs hummed by mothers, aunts, grandparents 

I spoke the tongue of motherland memories half forgotten 

My dreams are those of revolutionaries fighting wars I do not know 

My skin and hair and eyes, the color of all that dust collected 

And in my blood and bones a multitude of strength, tempered, misremembered over time

The Caged Bird Still Sings

Why does the caged bird still sing?

The caged bird sings for the brown bodies that labor

The brown bodies that protect 

The brown bodies that clean

The caged bird sings for the brown bodies lost 

The brown voices silenced 

The brown talent stolen 

The caged bird sings to say their names

The caged bird sings to remember.

Sons

White sons came out of my brown body
A body that loves them more than me
And I tell them you're still brown boys inside Don't white wash away the stories of our history
But I worry that they will learn to blend
Erase the memories of our diaspora
Forget to stand in solidarity with other brown boys
Forget to love brown girls like me
They tell me they're a little bit white and a little bit brown
I tell them we are the stories piled up inside us Omission can be worse than lies
My sons tell me I that am beautiful
And I try to forget all the white boys who said I wasn't

Modern Womxn

When I was a kid

They said you can be anything 

But they didn't mean me

Because all I heard is

You can't be a small-town brown nerd

You can be smarter than a her

But not a him

You can't do better than the color of your skin 

You can shine bright 

But you can't earn white 

You can be a success, a mother or a wife

But not all three in the same life

Did you breastfeed?

Did you have a natural birth?

Who is taking care of your home and your hearth?

Don't slack, don't let your clothes get tight 

You can do it all, but you can't do it right

Why aren't you smiling

On your way to PTA

And every time I walk through my door

There unorganized crumbs on the floor

They said you can be anything 

You want to be

But they didn't mean you and they didn't mean me