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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Amiga de VivirLatino, Noemi de Hermana, Resist wanted me to extend this question to the VivirLatino audience:

What does being a survivor mean to you? Leave a comment with what being a survivor is to you, your definition of survival and I’ll send you a printed copy of the Voces Zine and a 1″ survivor pin. Replies will be printed in the next issue of Voces. Anonymous answers are fine. Email me your address to get the goods: noemi.mtz at gmail.

Given the recent losses of life on the Mexico frontera with the U.S., the students on hunger strike in front of the offices of senators, it seems like such a timely question. I have my own answer that I will share over at Hermana, Resist and I ask that you share yours as well.

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A dear sister to VivirLatino, Aaminah Hernández Al-Naksibendi, felt the need to piece together feelings of sorrow and anger after reading about Sandra Cantu.

Because I believe that the expression of our voices and experiences is media and because VivirLatino is about honoring that, I asked Aaminah if we could post the poem here. I am grateful that she said yes.

of brown girls
por Sandra Cantu y todas morenas

by Aaminah Hernández Al-Naksibendi

of brown girls who
carry themselves folded in
and under, hiding their bodies
because they learned young
es peligroso to draw attention

de las morenas quien
saben la vida es dura
who learn this before
they even learn to speak
and know better than to complain

of brown girls who
you look past, beyond, through
given less attention than
perros en la calle
unless you want something from them

de las morenas quien
work from the day
they can stand up
until the day they fall down
serving everyone’s needs but their own

of brown girls who
cook, clean, feed
who work like men
in fields and homes
but are accused of “taking” jobs

de las morenas quien
you call alien, slut, anchor baby
but use to wash your laundry
or fulfill your fantasies
whose family values don’t count

of brown girls who
are considered expendable
less than human
without rights or value
except for trade

de las morenas quien
give love and sustenance freely
and see so little returned
that they take affection
wherever it is offered

of brown girls who
are used and abused
then tossed aside
for whom no questions are asked
and no justice is sought

for brown girls who
i’ve known and loved
who have mothered me
and then disappeared
i cry for you

grito para ustedes

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It pained me to hear that poet Tato Laviera was going through some hard times following some health issues.

Poesia, especially when it reflects and represents the comunidad, isn’t an easy hustle. It does make me happy to see peeps coming out and supporting him. Tonight’s event has an amazing lineup so if you can spare the $25 please do go and support.

Tuesday, April 27, 6-10PM
New York University
Kimmel Center, Room 401
60 Washington Square South
(corner of LaGuardia Place, NYC)

Tkts available day of event at
NYU Central Tkt office – General Admission: $25
Students/Seniors: $15
NYU Students: $7

For more information call Tato: 917-364-2223
or send email to: rcruzrios1@nyc.rr.com

Hosted by Juan Flores and Lorraine Montenegro (United Bronx Parents Inc.)

Participating Poets will include: Sandra Maria Esteves, Maria Aponte, Caridad De La Luz (La Bruja), Mariposa, Nancy Mercado, Prisionera, Myrna Nieves, Miguel Algarin, Louis Reyes Rivera, Jesus Papoleto Melendez, Fish Vargas, Rich Villar, George Zavala, Frank Perez, Sery Colon with Luisito Ayala, Raul Rios and Jose Angel Figueroa.

Music will include: Poet Americo Casiano Jr. and singer Jacqueline Flowers with their ensemble: NuyoRican School of Poetry Jazz Ensemble, Inc. with bassist Andy Gonzalez, and percussionists: Gene Golden, Vincent George and Abe Rodriguez, Carmen Ambert singing the Puerto Rican National Anthem, and will be highlighted by DASO under the direction of David Soto. Presenters: Edwin Melendez, Centro; Dr. William Luis, Vanderbilt University; Stephanie Alvarez Martinez, University of Texas, Panamerican.

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This morning’s poem was a little more deliberate. I want to dedicate the verses and phrases today, taken from Sandra Maria Esteves and pedacitos of her poem Puerto Rican Discovery #23 : Portrait in Raising Self-Esteem, as printed in Aloud : Voices from the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe, to our own VivirLatino hermana Bianca Laureano.

Today Bianca is among mujeres being honored by El Diario La Prensa as part of their 15th annual Mujeres Destacadas Award Luncheon here in NYC. Bianca is being recognized for her fierce leadership in the area of healthy pro-sexuality education. I know I couldn’t be prouder. I am honored and feel blessed to have her as part of the VivirLatino familia. You, Bianca, are a portrait in raising the self-esteem for Rican women and all women. Felicidades.

Puerto Rican Discovery #23: Portrait in Raising Self-Esteem

by Sandra Maria Esteves

Flirtatious dreamers
we judge ourselves all wrong

Backward guilt
feet-first jumpstarts into birth
innocent to realize
rain days can be good
blessings from heaven
disguised

We watch for the signs
Survival manna…

We are infants compared to the universe
a wise great-grandmother
who can harvest the stars around the moon

She cannot be bought
No pricetags are attached
The inner life has no boundaries
No jail cells – not a one
No fixed points of reference to confine a soul
No eye-catching bozes
to pollute everyday sidewalks

The names of all things are sacred
like thoughts of breathing clean air
More than loving
living means giving
Like homegrown food
from the eternal harvest within

But for real.

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How does where you are from define who you be? Nuyorican poet Willie Perdomo presents his own perspective in the poem Where I’m From, published in his book Where a Nickle Costs a Dime.

Where I’m From
by Willie Perdomo

Where I’m From, Puerto Rico stays on our minds when the fresh
breeze of cafe con leche y pan con mantequilla comes through our
half-open windows and under our doors while the sun starts to rise…

Where I’m from, the police come into your house without
knocking, They throw us off rooftops and say we slipped. They shoot
my father and say he was crazy. They put a bullet in my head and say
they found me that way…

Where I’m from, it’s sweet like my grandmother reciting a quick
prayer over a pot of hot rice and beans. Where I’m from, it’s pretty
like my niece stopping me in the middle of the street and telling me
to notice all the starts in the sky.

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Book, when I close you
I open life…

Book, you were never able
to put me onto paper,
to fill me
with typography,
with heavenly printing,
you were never able
to bind my eyes,…

Book, set me free.
I don’t want to go dressed
in a volume,
I do not come from a tome,
my poems
haven’t eaten poems,
they devour
passionate happenings,
they are nourished on the outdoors,
they extract food
from the earth and men.
Book, let me walk on the paths
with dust in my shoes and without mythology:
return to your library,
I am going out into the streets.

I have learned about life
from life,
love I learned from a single kiss,
and I couldn’t teach anyone anything,
except what I have lived,
whatever I had in common with other men,
whatever I struggled for with them:
whatever I expressed of them all in my song.

Original Spanish follows
Read more…

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National Poetry Month : Dia 10 La Nueva Chicana de Viola Correa

5:52 pm By Maegan la Mamita Mala · Justice|Poetry|Women · Comments Off

13 Apr 2010

All of the poems I have posted have come from books in Casa Mala’s library. Today I was leafing through 500 Years of Chicano History in Pictures as edited by Elizabeth Martinez and came across this short pero dulce piece that reminds me of so many mujeres before me, so many mujeres that are presente, and so many mujeres yet to be.

Hey!
See that lady protesting against
injustice
es mi mama.
That girl in the brown beret, the
one teaching the children
She’s my hermana
Over there fasting with the migrants
es mi tia…
Listen to her shout!
La nueva Chicana by Viola Correa

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Today’s poema, goes back to the theme of spirituality in that it was written by one of the most famous Latin American nuns, Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz of Mexico, who may or may not have entered a convent because it gave her freedom and access to knowledge unavailable to women in the 17th Century.

This poem is really ahead of it’s time in it’s condemnation of the double standard used against women by men, especially when it comes to our sexuality.

You Men

Silly, you men-so very adept
at wrongly faulting womankind,
not seeing you’re alone to blame
for faults you plant in woman’s mind.

After you’ve won by urgent plea
the right to tarnish her good name,
you still expect her to behave–
you, that coaxed her into shame.

You batter her resistance down
and then, all righteousness, proclaim
that feminine frivolity,
not your persistence, is to blame.

When it comes to bravely posturing,
your witlessness must take the prize:
you’re the child that makes a bogeyman,
and then recoils in fear and cries.

Presumptuous beyond belief,
you’d have the woman you pursue
be Thais when you’re courting her,
Lucretia once she falls to you.

For plain default of common sense,
could any action be so queer
as oneself to cloud the mirror,
then complain that it’s not clear?

Whether you’re favored or disdained,
nothing can leave you satisfied.
You whimper if you’re turned away,
you sneer if you’ve been gratified.

With you, no woman can hope to score;
whichever way, she’s bound to lose;
spurning you, she’s ungrateful–
succumbing, you call her lewd.

Your folly is always the same:
you apply a single rule
to the one you accuse of looseness
and the one you brand as cruel.

What happy mean could there be
for the woman who catches your eye,
if, unresponsive, she offends,
yet whose complaisance you decry?

Still, whether it’s torment or anger–
and both ways you’ve yourselves to blame–
God bless the woman who won’t have you,
no matter how loud you complain.

It’s your persistent entreaties
that change her from timid to bold.
Having made her thereby naughty,
you would have her good as gold.

So where does the greater guilt lie
for a passion that should not be:
with the man who pleads out of baseness
or the woman debased by his plea?

Or which is more to be blamed–
though both will have cause for chagrin:
the woman who sins for money
or the man who pays money to sin?

So why are you men all so stunned
at the thought you’re all guilty alike?
Either like them for what you’ve made them
or make of them what you can like.

If you’d give up pursuing them,
you’d discover, without a doubt,
you’ve a stronger case to make
against those who seek you out.

I well know what powerful arms
you wield in pressing for evil:
your arrogance is allied
with the world, the flesh, and the devil!

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Do your make your bed everyday? In Casa Mala we do. Can the mudane, the daily, the routine inspire poesia? Pues claro.

Editors Note April 14th : Julia Alvarez’s Literary Agent asked VivirLatino to remove the fragment of the poem Making Our Beds.

So if you want to read the poem, you can purchase the book Homecoming or check it out at your local library.

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National Poetry Month : Dia 7, Claribel Alegria’s Ars Poetica

12:59 pm By Maegan la Mamita Mala · Poetry|Women · Comments Off

10 Apr 2010

One of the reason why the words of Latina poets are so important to me is that in talking to Latino, that is male identified poets, even those that consider themselves politically radical, very few of them read/support the work of mujeres. I know it is something that I personally have encountered and slowly and become more of a hard ass about.

Today I bring you the words of Claribel Alegria, as published in the book Poetry like Bread.

Ars Poetica

I,
poet by trade,
condemned so many times
to be a crow,
would never change places
with the Venus de Milo:
while she reigns in the Louvre
and dies of boredom
and collects dust
I discover the sun
each morning
and amid valleys
volcanoes
and debris
of war
I catch sight of the promised land.

translated by Darwin J. Flakoll

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