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You came to me in a dream,
And showed me your fathers will,
And all I could do was hold you and cry,
Until I noticed the angry grunting noises you made.
Then somehow you just wanted me to laugh,
Instead of me making you.
So you tickled and I giggled,
And we rolled round in the floor.
Its sad to me that even in dreams,
You seem to haunt me even more.
"Rewind" - Goldspot
I can sense you
Your presence,
It reeks of evil.
I am stretching to the sky,
Learning how to become
Closer to the sun.

I am within the boundaries
Of life on this calm piece
Of earth and peace.

I am in perfect harmony,
Carefully providing
Shade and shelter.

I am a tree,
And I will never stop
Becoming better

I am a tree,
And I will always grow
Closer to the sun.

© 3/10/13
Wake Up Wretched World,

I assert my Indigenous heritage
I self identify
With the ancestors of my continent

Identity afraid to articulate
Culture, unknowingly belonging to me
Cycle of shame now shattered

Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire
europeans plundering my mother Latin America
In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment
Has been engineered through the mestizaje
Of my Indigenous forefathers

How could I not forget my lineage
When the historical legacy of modernization
Has been to massacre the consciousness
Of where my people really come from

Erasing indigenous pride
Making Paisano and Indio
Synonymous with poverty and alienation
Insulting the humbleness
State of hunger you've left us in

Original lineage within me disturbed
So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment
Not white, not indigenous?

Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced
Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns
Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics
Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them
Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit

Constantly driving them off productive land
Because they choose to assert their identity
Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing
Waiting for them to make barren lands productive
So you can take those lands too

Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times
This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America
21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
March 14, 2013
Tag
The words I desire evade my grasp
Flitting about beneath my fingers
Dodging what I thought would be a sure catch.
A child-like frustration grows within me,
Playing tag with these teasing lyrics,
Chasing them until I grow tired,
Giving up when I want only to say,
"You're it"
You know what?
I will fight
Because it's difficult
Because the lows are so ******* low
Because the night air chills my damp shirtsleeves
Because sometimes the walls are impenetrable
Because I do it the hard way
But really because
He always says it back
but this cup is altering my mentality...every piece of women is looking fine to me...but in reality...they all look like you...because not any one cares about me, its true...that I'm just another thirsty male...chasing after bodies...but that stereotype I will fail..I want to change her memories...so listen to the memo... I'm changing my M.O....cuz this cup can't save me....and neither can your memories...so starting right now change your point of view...Create a new memo I'm counting on You...
 Mar 2013 Geovanni Sanabria
st64
Dab, soak
Scrub out blue.
Who wants
A bleached soul?


Star Toucher, 15 March 2013
Some stains can add character...like a spackeled ceiling yielding pretty patterns for the open mind.
And...there's colour in a rainbow :)
I have a new friend
He says good night to me
Sometimes I see his smile
Only in a dream
I have a new friend
Yet he means so much
To me
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