reconstruir

And my bones cannot bend any more.
There is no space left for them to break into.

I have exhausted all breathable air around them.

You will never find me here,
Huddled against this ancient bark,
For one,
You never came to this neighborhood.
For two,
You wouldn't be looking.

You aren't looking for me.

In fact,
I don't think you even have eyes anymore.

At least,
ones without that slick and mysterious glaze.
Like that of a slowly sputtering geyser:

A strange gelatin

Settling on top
Of what was once a pool of clear blue.

Considering I pour so much of my creative writing energy into class assignments and there are some essays that I end up really enjoying to write, I wanted to create a space to share some of my recent favorites.  There is a new section under "My Offerings" named "Essays". Please enjoy!

Red Kitchen Nun

Why did you always say:

When I die, you’ll get all this jewelry

Why did you always say it so gaily?

Like it was something I was looking forward to.

As if the smashed bridge

The crusted-over chasm

Between you and I

Could at last be simply skipped over once

there were stones dangling from my earlobes and

Pearls dripping from my collarbone

As if the jewels blistering my knuckles

And the clasps safely buttoned over my breast could

Come to represent some real alliance between us

Beautiful

They replace the spirit you could never share

And are daily, eye-catching reminders of

What I have never known from you 

A Response to "Sonny's Blues" by James Baldwin

This is an unconventional essay, I admit. But I got bored with writing prose and wanted to switch it up for a particular assignment. This poem is a response to, or more like reflection of,  James Baldwin's Sonny's Blues. Here's a link to the short story - which I recommend reading, one to get a better understand of my response, and two, just because it's a great piece of work.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/7086554/Sonnys-Blues-by-James-Baldwin

                                                                  


"And it started like this"

Tss tssss,

Tss tssss,

A little shimmy of snare

amongst the silence everywhere

Hovering above a midnight stage:

Tss tsss,

Tss tsss,

Then:

Lights! Lights!

Whissh…whissh

Fights! Fights!

Dark, dark.

And it picked up, quick, like a Birdsong:

a little dah dah

dedah dah,

dah dah

dedah dah

Backbeats of

dummm dum

Dummm dum,

Dummm dum

dummm dum

composing themselves like fresh ice

in the backbones of the high-faced.

Lights! Lights!

A nostalgic wind up and down the chords

Brought the beat back

‘round and ‘round

‘round and ‘round

Into the chaotic drill and shrill of horns:

Bru bru bri bri,

Bruu bruu brii brii!

Du du da da du du da da!

Bbbrrruuu, bbrrruuu!

Vvrrii, vvrrii!

Shaggy snares still loping:

Phhhtah,

Phhhtah,

Phhhtah,

Phhhtah.

Familiar sounds that asked the audience questions

they heard before.

New sequences that jumbled their perception

of being.

Bang! Bang!

Crashed the drums

Thunder in between their wood and metals

A confusing spiral of horns and horse hooves

Strange ssssssserpentine rhythms stronger than themselves

Lights! Lights!

Dark. Dark.

Dark. Dark.

Dark. Dark.

Bum bum

Bum bum

Bum bum

Bum bum.

Dum dum

Dum dum

Dum dum

Dum dum.

And the sax saunters in

While the men meander

Through the darkness

Looking for that next note

Piercing the hearts with musical hope

And a lingering promise of

Salvation through his chocolate alto

Bbhhrrr brrr bhhhhrrrrrrrr,

Dur dur dur dur duh duuhhh durrr

Da da dahhh…

It wails

It whines

But never finds time

With his brother

It only smothers the harmony of the others

Rolls on the familiar tune once more

Reminders of Saturday nights

And Uncles

And Daddy’s

Mother’s with tears

And brothers with years of saddle-baggies

The sizzle of a cigarette

Meets not the Mercy, Mercy, Mercy of a clarinet

But the Chi Chi of a saxophone

And wave of brassy blues

A piano comes on live

Tinker-tankling the collective fears into oblivion

While the Moon watches

the Sun surpass his previous rises

Outlast his previous binges

And advance upon the people as if

He could light up their despair

 by simply

Pressing his Sunny digits

with sobering care.

soft be it

Here

I miss You

like

the wind

misses warm

golden fields

to rip through

Like the gently sloping

mountainside

shaded purple gallinule

aches for an avalanche

Like

the hurricane in my belly

and

the tornado in my head

lust for some island of peace

in which to be contained.

I have missed

You

To such depths.

Those seven mile deep oceans

appear as shallow as

the pale, salty rim

of a dried tear

flattened against

a dewy cheek –

when I

compare the leagues

to how deeply

one like you

has been

missed by

one like me.

The breeze whipped

The breeze whipped

With a sunlight tip

Bouncing on the back of that tire.

My armor slipped

With an (un)tight lip

Announcing true lack of that fire.

At the end of a blond curl:

The potential for a whirl

A shake and dance for this literary girl.

A reason to want to perspire.

Roll and ride up

With tree and (un)duck

New teeth to count and number.

Cruise and brake down

Ears open to a music-maker’s sound

A fondness I’d like to remember.

  

i can

Try try try try try try try try tr

Y

Close my eyes

Close my eyes

Close my eyes

Close my eyes

Close my yes

Your yes

Yes yes yes yes yes yes

Try try try try

Cry cry cry cry cry

Delete delete

Try try

Cry cry

Move mmove mmmove mmmmove

Close your eyes

Touch your heart

And breathe

All I can do is breathe.