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Traitor to my race
As I dig into your white thighs
as I dive into your body
500 years of colonization
Your blue eyes
blue like the oceans your ancestors crossed to invade
invade the land I call home
just like you invade my thoughts, my flesh, my desire

traitor to my cause
as you kiss me i keep thinking
will i be one of them?
one of the men of color accused of not dating his own, loving his own, desiring his own
buying into the "pa' mejorar la raza" narrative

as you are laying over my chest i keep pondering
if it's ok to desire you
to hold you
to tell you you are beautiful
and i wonder how many times you've been told that
by someone like me

so i fall asleep in your arms
wake up in the middle of the night and asked you to leave

traitor to my desire.
 Jul 2014 RebelJohnny
 Jul 2014 RebelJohnny
Curiously, I follow the trail
Until it forks in two
I stop and sit in the middle of the road
And contemplate directions until
I grow very
and feebly old.
 Jul 2014 RebelJohnny
I smell *** everywhere I go.
In the air,
On cafe counters,
At bus stops and on sidewalks.

I taste it in your coy smiles
and backward glances
while he wasn't looking.
Sand and salty skin,
lips with no teeth behind them.
Blood rushes and swollen parts.

I know I will ruin you
from the inside out.
This is how cancer feels.
Love isn't always soft as sighs,
slow and careful cobweb touches.
Sometimes it's mindfucks,
riding crops and hematoma.
Ask napolean about the pyramids
and you will hear the
words of a true ******.

These words, just cockroach
legs swarming around the rotting
chicken bones underneath
your stained mattress,
ancient and ugly,

This now we are sharing,
my now of writing,
your now of reading,
are they the same?

Another day alone
as I decay into
a great big
of nothing
out there
is a ****
that will
make me
This now..

There is something more to this...
 Jul 2014 RebelJohnny
 Jul 2014 RebelJohnny
I made a lover of the sun
And just before it scorched my skin
It ignited my soul
He has all the wrong signs,

Every red flag,

Says every **** scary word on my  “Girl ruuuun for your life” dictionary,

And yet I desire him.

He is everything that is wrong with me,

He is me 10 years ago:

Surrounded by spirit,

He is music without lyrics,

He is all that is wrong with me.

The embodiment of NO,

He’s a bird with no song,

Wingless, dreamless and plastic,

His standards are elastic,

And he won't let me breathe...

He is everything that is wrong with me

And yet

Object of my desire
They tell us of places and theories
speak of the radicalness of our flesh
say that we must take responsibility of ourselves
as they sit behind their hard earned desks

they speak of their authority
and empowerment through words to the point that I wish to acquire such audacity

isn't that what our liberation is all about?
Recreating patterns of oppression
reach elitist capacities
sound … well structured and become one of the prodigies they can throw in their collection of so called advancement

I no longer seek validation of my processes through your bureaucratic systems
my knowledge does not emanate from intellectually justified sources but from las historias passed down to me by my fore-mothers

keep your favors, sympathy and unreasonable accommodations

yes, I will move on
but con un nuevo entendimiento:
de que ustedes no dictan las bases del feminismo
ni la capacidad de mi criterio

resisto sus juicios
y no acepto sus terminos
no firmo
por que mi educacion
no tiene fecha de expiracion
ni es un producto o contrato
al mejor postor.
The world is full of shade and prose
And I don’t know what to do anymore
Audre Lorde said “silence will not protect you”
But I been weaving my silences into a survivor’s quilt
Because I’m tired of surviving
And I’m cold and want to use it as my blanket
Out there in that cold *** world

The world is full of shade and prose
*** workers on boulder highway
Wanna be poets writing in spanglish
White privilege, patriarchy and all
I kinda wish I’d write songs instead of poems
You know, songs about love
But no
Cuz the world is full of shade and prose
Bus stops/stop and frisk
Judgment day enthusiasts/Holocaust deniers
I am tired of “it happened before I was born”
And “I feel guilty but I did not ask to be privileged”
And when I say: Then do something
They ask me “what?”
I reply: NO
The world is full of shade and prose

The chicken never made it across the street
There is so much deconstruction
And so little relief
We will soon end up homeless
And will have to pawn the master’s tools
Or maybe just sell them at the swapmeet
For a dollar or two

I mean who cares as long as we’re in love
If at the end
The world is full of shade and prose.
I defy you
As I continue to rise
I belittle your curse, your gossip, your unexplained hatred of everything that is me.
I defy you
As I ****, as I ***, as I moan
I rebuke your negativity and I reclaim my body
As mine
Sacred temple where many decide to worship,  and yes, I do perform miracles.
I defy you
Because I understand that no matter what I do you will still dislike me, so I choose to give you the best reasons to hate me, and one of them is not hating the irrelevant.  
I defy you
And until you love me again, your hatred will slowly crumble at the sound of each "I love you" I say.
What is written cannot be erased.

— The End —