starburst - Hello Poetry

The only walls I want are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know, the ones that divide my rooms and let me know if I'm cooking here, Netflix and chilling there or simply just sleeping undisturbed . The only walls I'm interested in are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know the ones that divide my rooms and let me know this is the space where my daughter plays, this is the space where my husband prays five times a day, this is the space where I wash the grit of the day from my ***** clothes. The only walls I'm interested in are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know the ones that divide my rooms and let me know this is the space where I entertain my friends, the space where I try to Zumba and loose the college 10 that turned into the adult 30, the space where all the corners join and then disappear behind my Christmas tree, where those four corners blend to support the tired leanings of my immigrant family after stuffing their bellies full of my freshly made tamales and leftover pernil So unless you're taking the tired, the poor, the hungry and building them a respite inside of walls that separate homes, inside of walls that gives shelter, that tell we belong and are safely home then I have no interest in anymore walls unless the wall you build divides you from us the way bathroom walls should keep **** contained to keep your stench from poisoning U.S. and the rest of the house. Now that is the only wall I can agree on.

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Jan 29, 2017

Jan 29, 2017 at 10:28 PM UTC

Las Paredes-Walls

The only walls I want are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know, the ones that divide my rooms and let me know if I'm cooking here, Netflix and chilling there or simply just sleeping undisturbed . The only walls I'm interested in are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know the ones that divide my rooms and let me know this is the space where my daughter plays, this is the space where my husband prays five times a day, this is the space where I wash the grit of the day from my ***** clothes. The only walls I'm interested in are the ones separating the rooms in my house. You know the ones that divide my rooms and let me know this is the space where I entertain my friends, the space where I try to Zumba and loose the college 10 that turned into the adult 30, the space where all the corners join and then disappear behind my Christmas tree, where those four corners blend to support the tired leanings of my immigrant family after stuffing their bellies full of my freshly made tamales and leftover pernil So unless you're taking the tired, the poor, the hungry and building them a respite inside of walls that separate homes, inside of walls that gives shelter, that tell we belong and are safely home then I have no interest in anymore walls unless the wall you build divides you from us the way bathroom walls should keep **** contained to keep your stench from poisoning U.S. and the rest of the house. Now that is the only wall I can agree on.

8

somehow i kept all of your stuff together even though it was spread en todos lugares much like my feelings have been some here others a little bit over there yet still ending like these dishes compacted smashed & broken in one convenient place somehow i kept all of your stuff together i even pieced it bit by bit de todos lugares carried it everywhere intending to unpack what now resembles a tight jenga puzzle shoved into my garage from things never opened from every move my emotions just weren’t ready to be the wrong box pulled spilling everything onto the floor somehow i kept all of your stuff together yet en todos lugares i am the one lost in this rubble somewhere you were such an disorganized pack rat so worried about hanging on to every little detail of your life that when you died you forgot to leave what little room was left for me to grieve

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Dec 22, 2016

Dec 22, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC

Pack Rat

somehow i kept all of your stuff together even though it was spread en todos lugares much like my feelings have been some here others a little bit over there yet still ending like these dishes compacted smashed & broken in one convenient place somehow i kept all of your stuff together i even pieced it bit by bit de todos lugares carried it everywhere intending to unpack what now resembles a tight jenga puzzle shoved into my garage from things never opened from every move my emotions just weren’t ready to be the wrong box pulled spilling everything onto the floor somehow i kept all of your stuff together yet en todos lugares i am the one lost in this rubble somewhere you were such an disorganized pack rat so worried about hanging on to every little detail of your life that when you died you forgot to leave what little room was left for me to grieve

39

this razor it flirts with my wrist like an experienced man that's too old for me yet temps all my tendencies for the taking anyway making me wonder if for the first time will i feel it? will it penetrate and tear me apart slow spread me open wide only to let my crimson droplets Tap Tap Tap bob ross like & paint the white linoleum floor?

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Dec 22, 2016

Dec 22, 2016 at 3:44 AM UTC

Cutting the Canvas

this razor it flirts with my wrist like an experienced man that's too old for me yet temps all my tendencies for the taking anyway making me wonder if for the first time will i feel it? will it penetrate and tear me apart slow spread me open wide only to let my crimson droplets Tap Tap Tap bob ross like & paint the white linoleum floor?

20

Sometimes yellow is light and soft like a down pillow or a fluffy kitten. Sometimes yellow is bright and sharp like the sour taste of orange juice or cool like the crispness felt in the first fall breeze Sometimes yellow can be inviting like the perfect temperature of a warm shower or it can be dark muddy and bland like the taste of blended mashed cold peas but most of the time yellow is silent it is a morning without sound that breaks only with the slow introduction of birds chirping one by one

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Dec 22, 2016

Dec 22, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC

Shades of Yellow

Sometimes yellow is light and soft like a down pillow or a fluffy kitten. Sometimes yellow is bright and sharp like the sour taste of orange juice or cool like the crispness felt in the first fall breeze Sometimes yellow can be inviting like the perfect temperature of a warm shower or it can be dark muddy and bland like the taste of blended mashed cold peas but most of the time yellow is silent it is a morning without sound that breaks only with the slow introduction of birds chirping one by one

18

Nights in Aleppo come without warning never letting you sleep the fear of the unknown is too strong so your dreams are as restless as the florescent orange lights illuminating the dark sky Nights in Aleppo come without warning covering you with a clouded shroud of dust which suddenly ebbs hope away like the hazy fading light of the moon Nights in Aleppo come without warning creating a dark silence that chokes you thicker than smoke from a Buchenwald chimney until the screams and cries are heard no more

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Dec 22, 2016

Dec 22, 2016 at 1:47 AM UTC

Nights in Aleppo

Nights in Aleppo come without warning never letting you sleep the fear of the unknown is too strong so your dreams are as restless as the florescent orange lights illuminating the dark sky Nights in Aleppo come without warning covering you with a clouded shroud of dust which suddenly ebbs hope away like the hazy fading light of the moon Nights in Aleppo come without warning creating a dark silence that chokes you thicker than smoke from a Buchenwald chimney until the screams and cries are heard no more

22

Every Sunday we watch football together & while we yell at the plays I wonder, when are you gonna let me gain some yardage on you? Every Sunday You yell, That fool could have scored! & while I look at you I say to myself Yes, you sure could have by now, but like that quarterback you move too slow I wonder, why are we still playing on separate teams when we like the same game? You’re such a fool If only you knew how badly I'd like to tackle you & convert these last 2 points by letting you hang Between my goal posts rush my endzone and make the best touchdown of your life Tell me, Can we huddle? Can we discuss this repetitive play we keep pretending we aren't playing? Meet me at the 50 yard line Of your bed Let's scrimmage man

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Dec 11, 2016

Dec 11, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC

Sunday Funday

Every Sunday we watch football together & while we yell at the plays I wonder, when are you gonna let me gain some yardage on you? Every Sunday You yell, That fool could have scored! & while I look at you I say to myself Yes, you sure could have by now, but like that quarterback you move too slow I wonder, why are we still playing on separate teams when we like the same game? You’re such a fool If only you knew how badly I'd like to tackle you & convert these last 2 points by letting you hang Between my goal posts rush my endzone and make the best touchdown of your life Tell me, Can we huddle? Can we discuss this repetitive play we keep pretending we aren't playing? Meet me at the 50 yard line Of your bed Let's scrimmage man

39

I keep thinking one day I will be able to muster up the words I love you and say them directly, to your real face but until then this photograph will have to do cause in your presence I stammer and stumble over the simplest of phrases leaving my feelings looking like a drunken cad walking down the street with my words staggering at my feet unable to be put one in front of the other & finally me ending with my heart passed out at your doorstep cause my sense of sobriety always fails me around you.

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Dec 11, 2016

Dec 11, 2016 at 3:13 AM UTC

Failed Sobriety

I keep thinking one day I will be able to muster up the words I love you and say them directly, to your real face but until then this photograph will have to do cause in your presence I stammer and stumble over the simplest of phrases leaving my feelings looking like a drunken cad walking down the street with my words staggering at my feet unable to be put one in front of the other & finally me ending with my heart passed out at your doorstep cause my sense of sobriety always fails me around you.

25

who will help me the poor black soul that the world has abandoned like lost mail they did not return for? & so i wait & watch the world day after day get on with their lives freely & unscathed with the only ticket needed their white skin leaving mine stamped invalid & destined to turn blood red from brown

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Jul 8, 2016

Jul 8, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC

Abandoned

who will help me the poor black soul that the world has abandoned like lost mail they did not return for? & so i wait & watch the world day after day get on with their lives freely & unscathed with the only ticket needed their white skin leaving mine stamped invalid & destined to turn blood red from brown

17

i didn't want to do it i didn't want to do it but he made me cause they say he killed an old lady on 23rd street you know the one with the blue hair and blind dog all because of some tic tacs since that's all she had in her pocket living on welfare don't you know they say he crept in smothered her with a pillow as she said her prayers goodnight? i didn't wanna do it i didn't wanna do it but they made me cause i got a quota cause i could be fired if i flake and don't take him out NOW! i'm keeping the peace. besides, that could've been my grandmother if she wasn't dead already.

0

Jul 8, 2016

Jul 8, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC

Justification

i didn't want to do it i didn't want to do it but he made me cause they say he killed an old lady on 23rd street you know the one with the blue hair and blind dog all because of some tic tacs since that's all she had in her pocket living on welfare don't you know they say he crept in smothered her with a pillow as she said her prayers goodnight? i didn't wanna do it i didn't wanna do it but they made me cause i got a quota cause i could be fired if i flake and don't take him out NOW! i'm keeping the peace. besides, that could've been my grandmother if she wasn't dead already.

28

& they stood round the hot crackling light, drinking spirits & chanting celebrating praises all night after catching a soul, wandering. he was stripped & tied, like an animal he laid next to the tree, a quivering bird & they stood round the hot crackling light, playing "Pin the Tail on the Monkey", with hot coals as haunting laughter chilled the hot southern air blowing the scent of burnt flesh & sweet magnolias everywhere & they stood round the hot crackling light, watching the thick, yellow braided snake coil their fears, & stifle what they had done leaving him, black and hanging like a cluster of bananas, swinging & waiting to be cut because strange fruit does rot

0

Jul 8, 2016

Jul 8, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC

Incident at Blackberry Lane

& they stood round the hot crackling light, drinking spirits & chanting celebrating praises all night after catching a soul, wandering. he was stripped & tied, like an animal he laid next to the tree, a quivering bird & they stood round the hot crackling light, playing "Pin the Tail on the Monkey", with hot coals as haunting laughter chilled the hot southern air blowing the scent of burnt flesh & sweet magnolias everywhere & they stood round the hot crackling light, watching the thick, yellow braided snake coil their fears, & stifle what they had done leaving him, black and hanging like a cluster of bananas, swinging & waiting to be cut because strange fruit does rot

23