my tears clearer than the ocean
yet my emotions rival the waves
i wish my happiness didn’t fade like the sun at the end of the day
but growth is what i wished for and i accepted whichever way
didn’t understand the toll it would take
i kiss my peers as i waste away, i love you all i wish i could say
under my drunken spell i forgive my ways
all the days i rot away, my insecurity remains the same
fill me with venom, treacherous rain
there is only so much my frame can take

November 1974- 2023- Sonnet 75.

The two of us re-married
became one
my first true love and I again;
one of countless times
rddbba style.

Joy and happiness
is all we know
as we lay beneath the starry sky
One promise fulfilled at a time.

Our pain is nothing
but distant
and faint memories.

Our boundaries know
not a single enemy.
Not a single foe remains
alive.
Our friends are
a legion elites.
~~~~

i said goodbye to the desert
spit out a few grains of rust and sand
as i sat in the back of my mother's grand marquis
i was bidding farewell to the long plaid skirt i wore to school every day
the school that was mercifully unmarred by bullets
the glitter on the popcorn ceiling of my grandparents' home
the smell of an overwhelming saturday evening
which stank of discarded waste and cigarettes
we were going somewhere special
goodbye nuevo laredo

eight years later
i said goodbye again
to a neat little home
nested tightly amongst the bricks of others
a hilly backyard
bluebonnets sashaying on the side of the highway
mexican restaurants every three blocks
that could never replicate what i once had
stars and stripes holding steady in the shade of a sycamore tree
a glittering city in the distance
i was in love
and i was going somewhere special

i was elated to escape
both of my previous lives
always finding myself awash with uncertainty
adrift as i committed and uncommitted to a series of distractions
from the beastly recesses of my pruned little brain
that snarled about hopelessness
abandonment
a lack of worth
and motivation
maybe i knew i was meant to run
since the moment of implantation

my new neighborhood is impeccably silent at night
no hollers to strain my ears for
no ominous pop-pop-pops
(was that a firework or could it be...)
no jovial music with thundering basses and large round drums
i eat pork drenched in teriyaki sauce
and drink green tea in the evenings
on the train, i gaze at the empty stares of other passengers
my gaze is also unreadable
i practice the strokes of a kanji
one, two, three...
my husband and i meander through temples
heavy and groaning with the weight of a thousand years
of life
benevolent buddhas and Cheshire-grinned demons
i can't help but think of the message of a western God
that my mother recited to me every night in the black of our room
sometimes i shuffle my feet in the square space of my living room
to the tune of cumbia

i used to think that i didn't have an identity
no confinement to a culture conceived by the likes of men
but i am what i am
and i never actually escaped

Pan dulce se sienta en un plato de pastelería en mi cocina
Rara vez tocado, pero siempre admirado
Fresco y colorido y lleno de variedad.
Los panes delicados quedan sin comer
Todavía los compro como recordatorio de
Mi familia en otra tierra a un mundo de distancia
Parece más cercano cuando estoy rodeado por el sabor, los olores y las texturas de la casa de mi padre biológico.
Mi Familia
Mi casa en Mexico

Somewhere in northern New Mexico
a writer claims
that the first two weeks
after a long hiatus
are the hardest.
After all,
scratching the words of the Gods
on to a loose leaf paper
must be arduous for those
out of practice.

I’d rather be an empire builder
a lonely artisan
in the deserts outside
of Las Cruces
with the sunshine on my back
chasing destiny down
a steep cliff of Mesquite
and milkweed
to Mexico City
where the children smile
in the streets
and then on to the Guadalupe Mountains
where I’ll feel
the loneliness of my dreams
and make my way back
to Small Town America
where I’ll sit on the front porch
and revel in
a much simpler destiny
as you walk through the front gate
to greet me.

We rounded the corner,
the Sandia Mountains glimmering like rust-colored prophets
from the passenger seat.
Far from The Flatlands,
I traced the curves
of Mother Earth with my fingers.
I imagined the way her gentle hands
could carve existence on a whim.