baby daddy blues

woke up this morning
finally heard the anthem to my blues
baby daddy blues
 
baby daddy didn’t have a father
folks split up when he was young
papa said he had a new family
that relationship was worth his time
mama probably had the blues herself
left mexico behind and found a new man
the womyn/child beater kind
 
woke up this morning
finally heard the anthem to my blues
baby daddy blues
 
baby daddy hated school
hated men that didn’t care for baby mama’s
used his rage and trained
EZLN/AIM militant security
talkin’ bout taking back our lands
tearing down borders
bullets to the system
learning our native tongue
living revolutionary lives
 
woke up this morning
finally heard the anthem to my blues
baby daddy blues
 
baby daddy spread his seed
a new generation of decolonized bodies
warrior names
freedom running through their veins
placental offerings
hair that flows like rivers
ceremonial rites of passage
tobacco ties, family ties
after life ties
 
woke up this morning
finally heard the anthem to my blues
baby daddy blues
 
baby daddy baby daddy why are you so blue?
when did you quit fighting
traded in your red for who?
prayers left abandoned
politics that contradict your worth
9-5 for uncle sam
attorneys to protect your wealth
body suits that assert your cis manhood
and baby bois back home
torn and confused
 
woke up this morning
finally heard the anthem to my blues
baby daddy blues
 
baby daddy is getting married
a new family of his own
got no time for lovin baby mamas
not sleeping in his bed
proud to be a new Americano
with holidaze and honeymoons
english only attitude
talking bout how schooling paves the way
 
baby bois back home
torn and confused
baby bois back home
torn and confused
 
woke up this morning
finally heard the anthem to my blues
baby daddy blues
baby daddy blues

Attn: Voices Needed

Voices Needed
Because that one time at the bar you felt it was okay to go up my skirt with your hand
Because my drink made me sloppy drunk with a few sips
AND you took advantage
Voices Needed
Because community peeps for ‘social justice’ feel that it’s okay to support a rapist instead of their semillas
Because that movie tells ‘our’ story ‘so beautifully’
AND semillas need sunlight to grow… NOT… shade…
Voices Needed
Because young girls can get raped because they ‘drank too much’, ‘wore that dress’ and ‘were looking for action’
Because those beautiful wombyn find ways to stop their breath
AND they need to keep on…going….
Voices Needed
Because sexism, misogyny, and patriarchy are ‘not a big deal’ and make us ‘lose focus’
Because movements need to keep moving and ‘your shit is a roadblock’;  ‘you’re a manhater’
AND we raise and love men
Voices Needed
Because our stories continue to be questioned
Because we are told, ‘Police report please’ and ‘be consistent with your story’
AND our traumas, our fears are carried so deep inside us nothing… comes… out
Voices Needed
Because I can go on and on with these stories
Because you think you know who wrote this yet it is not who you think because these stories. feelings. are common…
AND they need to be STOPPED. SUPPORTED.
KEEP USING YOUR VOICES.
WE HEAR YOU!

Rest In Peace

Rest in peace.

Past midnight when the sun is no where in sight
There lies the struggle to maintain the fight
Don’t give in don’t stop the try
Tears turn dry I can’t cry I won’t cry
Trying constantly to paint rainbows in the sky
Ghetto streets turn dry as blood spills in endless crime
I can try to paint the rainbows but the ghetto vibes will turn it dry & they will just cry

Love Letter

I’m mostly mad at love right now cause it hurt my friend. Love made my friend hurt my friend.

And it hurt me too, but that was a different story. Love hurt me for the best. Love made me choose. It made me choose between loving someone else and loving myself. I chose myself. I made the right choice. Thanks love.

So I guess love saved me. I guess I shouldn’t be so mad at love. I guess I should be thankful. I am grateful love, but I am not indebted to you. I don’t owe you. I don’t owe anyone for being nice or tender or loving toward me. I deserve it too. I deserve love.

We talk an awful lot about you love.  You’re selfish. You’re a ham. Love, why don’t you step the fuck down for a moment.  Back the fuck up!

I need a breather, I need a break. From you, for me.

You hurt my friend. I didn’t forget. That’s not okay. Love, you need to get your shit together. You can’t keep hurting me or the people I love.

Love, your reputation precedes you. You really aren’t as great as people say you are. Okay, you are great, but you’re really harsh and hurtful too. And you’re mean to nice people. You hurt people who don’t deserve it.

Love, I’m checking you. I will no longer stand by and witness you hurt me and the people I love.  You need to shape up or ship out. There’s no more room here for your bullshit.

So start taking notes. I will be your example of how to treat me and the people I love. And if you can’t live up to these standards, you can get your things and leave. If you can’t live up to what love should look like, then love don’t live here anymore.

Hace mucho tiempo te quise

Hace mucho tiempo te quise.
Fuiste la mujer de mi vida.
El amor más grande de todos mis pinches 27 años.
Tú me decías que era muy joven
Y yo quería crecer y ser la mujer perfecta para ti.
Quería que me gustaran las cosas que te gustaban.
Quería alcanzarte y gustarte.
Yo sé que te gustaba.
Me decías que me querías.
Sé que lo sentías…
Que lo vivías.
Te gustaba besarme.
Me gustaba mirarte.
A veces nos gustaban las mismas cosas.
Pero nunca fue suficiente.
Tú querías otra cosa.
Otra vida.
Tal vez otro cuerpo y no el mío.
Otro amor.
Una vida normal
Sin mi y sin dolor.
 

Men Threaten

Men like to threaten, to loom over us
to show they’re bigger
stronger
I’ll beat you to a pulp, little girl.
They use their loud voices
push tobacco-scented
onion-flavored
beer-laden
breath in your face and
I’ll show you who’s boss. Who da fuck you think you are, bitch?
worst thing you can call a man
“a girl”
“womanly”
“feminine”
“C’mon, ladies” — sneering football coach/drill sergeant — the biggest insult
 
Men say threatening things on your blog
and send revolting pictures
horrible pictures
of other women
beaten cut bloody headless bruised and battered
This could be you, watch out, stay in line
don’t speak your mind
STFU
stop speakin
truth-telling
challenging the WAY IT IS.
 
yeah, yeah, I know women threaten people too
women hit each other, are cruel and sharp and fuck you up.
But but but
we all know the but
women-hating is what societies are built on
it pumps men up, makes them men
to put women in their place.
threaten us with extinction
Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch
 
And yeah, yeah, I know it’s not all men,
there are good men.
 
But if you are breathing on this planet
if you are hearing my enraged words
you know a man like this
he’s in your family (he’s in mine)
he’s at your work (he’s at mine)
he’s watching you across the library (he’s watching me)
he’s bullying you on Facebook (he’s bullying me)
 
change it. stop accepting it
To the good men:
say no to woman-hating woman-silencing  speech
no laughing at wife-beating jokes
“rapeable” is not a compliment
step in when other men act badly
stand next to us, the women
and say not in my name.
 
men can change
But they sure do like to threaten us
 

Puga Nini Sha’de Butterfly Dance

She thinks, ‘I can do it,’ as a vibrant, deep and fluorescent butterfly floats over her head.
‘I shouldn’t have to hide who I am.
This is my reality- this is my truth.
Just my presence alone brings with it the entire weight of the mistakes of the Movement and the reason why true liberation has not yet been achieved.
So my truth now becomes your truth.’
This tragedy alone has morphed me into a new being.
Like the violent hacking of the wood, the splintering and breaking apart of its body- for all to watch in deep fascination-
when that metal blade slices into the once piece of forest.
Over and over again.
That piece of wood- birch wood- in its painful alteration from one being to another, thought the knife was deforming her as she’s
 
cut,
 
    and cut,
 
               and cut.
 
But when she opened her eyes after the agony was finally all over, she looked down upon herself and saw she was now a beautiful kachina doll.
A butterfly maiden.
And soon her Creator painted colors on her base; vibrant, deep and fluorescent.
She looked at the new world around her in amazement as she sat in the sun to let her colors dry.
Some of her hues were dark- to represent all the past pains done on her body that morphed her into this new figure.
And bright- to represent all the days in her future, for she has survived the hardship and is still here to see another sunrise.
After she dried the woodcarver breathed life into her.
And then she flew away.

Letters From the Palestinian Border

It would feel like if you ate
Gorged yourself in front of a hungry person.
But the starving one is the one who cooked the meal,
Grew the garden,
Nurtured the abundance
And then they just took it.
Ate from another’s plate.
For 63 years.
 
This is the border between Palestine and Lebanon
Between Palestine and us.
Between you and I.
This is what the border must look like
To the thirsty
To the hungry –
Dry, cracking Earth where I stand
Dying, withered weeds
Trash.
Zionist wrappers.
Empty
Bottles of water
And then-
My eyes feast on the overwhelming abundance just over the electric wall-
Rolling greens.
Fertile.
Plentiful
Life.
 
I feel numb.
I keep staring at the thirsty ground under my blistering feet.
Looking up and across
Creates a blocking in my throat.
She tells me when she was a little girl-
She wanted to be wealthy
Wealthy enough
Just enough
To buy her village back – she laughs a little.
I begin to sob so I carry my eyes to the ground again-
Weeping, parched, blowing plants
Struggling in the heat.
 
This time I look straight up.
Two flags
Scorched from the unbearable sun
I remember to wipe my brow.
 
I hear the UN solider behind me.
Questions.
Invading the past and present histories.
Memories.
And I can’t stop crying.
 
Thousands come to see their home-
A young woman yells in Arabic
“Palestine do you hear us?”
“We are here to see you”
“We are here to see you,”
“To love you,”
“To be with you,”
“To live you,”
“To live with you,”
“To live in you again.”
 
Then a little girl-
Running alongside the fence, happily chanting-
“Palestine”
“Palestine”
“Palestine”
She has known it her whole life.
Her grandmother looks up to the sky
“Ya Rab”
“My Lord”
“May we return to Palestine.”
 
Ya Allah-
May I return with healing hands and clear eyes
To see Palestine
To be Palestine.
 

Esto no es para ti

Esto no es para ti ni nadien en particular
No te creas tan especial por que en verdad no lo eres
No tomo de mi tiempo para escribirte o cambiarte por que eso solo tu lo sabrás
 
Esto es para desahogarme
para sacar todo el coraje
para contar mi historia
Ya que no me escuchaste utilizo mi pluma
para escribir mis palabras y pensamientos
 
Estoy aquí utilizando mi pluma 
no para escribirte pero para desahogarme 
y para decirte todo lo que te dije o te quise decir
pero nunca me escuchaste y
mucho menos me entendiste
 
No te creas tan especial por que en verdad no lo eres
Esto no se trata de ti
Esto se trata de mi historia
La historia de una mujer luchadora
Esto se trate de mi coraje
 
Esto se trata de las mujeres luchadoras–libres y lindas
pero que cargan un chingo de coraje