I am a daughter
I am a sister
I am a friend
I am a woman
I am a Chamorro woman
I am a Chamorro-Japanese woman
I am a woman of Guahån
I am a woman of the Marianas Islands

My ancestors walked these roads as I do now
They sweat under the same sun as I
They protect me when danger is near
They bless me with guidance
But the military takes that away
They are turning the land of my ancestors in shooting ranges
They took my family's land
They took what wasn't theirs to take

My island, my language, my culture, they are all slipping away into oblivion because Mother Guahån is being destroyed

Prutehi yan defendi i kultura
(Protect and defend your culture)

Anytime I smile in your direction,
I see it spread through your body like a
******* infection.

And that makes me sick, to affect you that way
I want you to live, get lost like a stray.

Anytime I touch you, on accident or purpose,
it's like your convinced waiting for me,
is worth it.

And that makes me sick, to affect you that way
because I don't love you anymore, I don't want you to stay.

Baby Panda
You called me
A *****-*****
When you woke
And I smiled
In response

Baby Panda
When eating
Fruity pebbles
With almond milk
You croaked like
A frog, croak
Over 20 times
And got up
To spit in the sink
Excessive saliva
In between
Each bite
I asked you why
You croak
wha?
I smiled
And say
Never mind

Baby Panda
You ran to me
Sobbing as if
The world was ending
My socks!!!
No more clean
****, I forgot
To dry them
You pace
Uncomfortable
As you're forced
To go barefoot
Feet ****
For longer
Than an hour

Baby Panda
I return to
You're stash
Of a room
And picking up
Your pajamas
I smell an
Accident
Of both sorts
Soiling your
Clothes
sorry
Red faced you enter
I smile and
Remind you
To let me know
Next time
And not to
Throw it on the
Wooden floor

Baby Panda
Socks on smooth
Shoes tied with
Quadrupled knots
You head to your
Room, radio blasting
Some radio talk
Station about comedy
Until 8:21 rolls around
And you run
Like a bullet
To the bus outside
Our house
I smile as you yell
BUS IS HERE
No matter what room
I'm in

Baby Panda
I worry for you
The second you walk
Out the door
Because you have such
Big, terrifying emotions
Yet a small filter
On your words, thoughts
Of your own body
Despite the fact
That you're turning
Into a real teen
Before the summers end

Baby Panda
I wish I could help
In ways I cannot
I can't read your mind
Though you think
I should
Know how by now
I can't make socks magically
Not hurt, or have people
Not get ******
When you randomly shout
Profanities
When your last conversation
Was regarding food
And I can't
Stop the madness that
Overtakes your body
Every time you get ill
Physically, mentally


But Baby Panda
I love you now
And always will

swallowing pride, cholesterol free

I was born with a deficiency.
& I smile because of it.
Fireworks that light up the sky.
Don’t explode color for me.
The seven colors of the rainbow.
Don’t lay out Roy G Biv for me.
Multifunctional digital cameras.
Don’t upload colorized for me.
The fireworks.
The rainbows.
The cameras.
All come out the same.
Colorless.
I smile because I am used to it.
Because it shows me the world for what it is.
I’m not distracted by the flashing lights.
Or the colorful reflection after the rain.
Not even the still moments of a photo.
So I see what’s real.


I live with a deficiency.
& I smile because of it.
I will never know the color of her hair.
As the wind blows it during a cool summer day.
I will never know the color of her eyes.
As the sun allows them to shine with beauty.
I will never witness her skin tone.
My deficiency doesn’t allow it.
I smile because I’m used to it.
Because it shows me who she really is.
The very essence of what makes her glow.
What my deficiency does allow.
I see her soul.
What her hair cannot conger.
I see her heart.
What her eyes cannot frame.
I see her love.
What her skin cannot contain.
So I see what’s real.

I will die with a deficiency.
& I smile because of it.
When the world becomes fragile.
I won’t see the red of the flames.
When the world becomes damaged.
I won’t see the blue of the flood.
When the world becomes a waste land.
I won’t see the color fade.
Because my deficiency took that a long time ago.
I smile because I’m used to it.
& it made my life beautiful.
Even though I saw black & white.
My canvass was colored with my heart.
& that is where my imagination runs wild.


I was blessed with a deficiency.
& I smile because of it.
Because I knew never to be afraid.

How sweet it must be
To be loved by a poet
Beauty and laughter immortalised
In honeyed prose
For those
Whom you will not know
Whom you will not meet
Only those whom you will dream of
Only those who will sigh over
Your grace, your love
From the honeyed mouth
Of the poet who had chosen you
As their muse

How sour it must be
To be hated by a poet
Ugliness and rage immortalised
In destroyed prose
For those
Whom you will know
Who you will meet
Only those who will see you
Only those who will cry over
Your disdain, your wrath
From the dry mouth
Of the poet who had chosen you
As their muses

The pantheon of muses
The poet possesses
Will never reveal themselves to the reader
But the reader will already know the glory and infamy
Of the muses the poet possesses
The lovers
Perfection personified
Only known to the unconscious mind
With faces unknown
The enemies
Imps of imperfection
Already known to the waking realm
With more faces than that which can be counted

How bitter it must be
To be a poet
Glorifying and horrifying mistakes
In quickened prose
For those
Whom you love
Whom you hate
Only those who will read of you
Only those who will ignore you
My emotions, my consequences
From the careless mouths
Of the ones who had chosen the poet
As their acquaintance