Tengo el pecho lleno de calor,
el aire me lo dijo y me canto una canción.
Tengo el alma y grita a veces,
aveces me oculto entre la gente,
no por que tema a mostrarme,
es que prefiero pasar inadvertido,
para cuando el viento me señale,
haberlo antes sorprendido.

Las voces en mi mente
susurran como las ramas de un arbol,
me lo digo a mi mismo,
y en mi interior resueno;
aveces solo aveces
sueño con ella,
aún que ya no recuerdo su voz.
Aún recuerdo la lluvia,
el camino a mi casa,
un suspiro, un minuto de alavanza
y el dibujo de un sonrisa en mi cara.

Si escribo es para romperme en pedazos,
para que alguien, tan solo alguien
comparta mi canto,
por que no quiero volar solo,
quiero surcar los cielos
con un coro de voces que brillen
voces oscuras,
otros matices,
que sigan mi vuelo
o que me muestren el suyo.

At age 5, mamá and papa brought me over from Mexico to the new land
They called the land America
They told me that I could make my dreams come true here
At age 10, I was in school, I was given what mamá and papa did not have
I was given the chance to have an education
The chance to give me a better life
The chance to give mamá and papa a better life
At age 15, mamá worked hard to throw me a Quinceañera
A tradition where girls are no longer children, but young women
Mamá wanted me to keep in touch with my Mexican roots
She did not want me to lose sight of who I was
She wanted me to know that I was Mexican first, American second
The position of those two words mattered
The position meant everything to mamá and papa
At age 20, my life was different
I was beginning my second year of college
I had made my own friends
I was far away from home
I was working hard towards my future
At age 25, I could finally call myself successful
I performed well in my academics
I received the job that I worked hard for
I was finally my own person with my own life
Mamá and papa called, but I did not have time for them
I was busy living my life and making my dreams come true
The dreams that mamá and papa had placed upon me
At age 30, I have a family of my own now
I fell in love and got married to the love of my life
I welcomed to the world two beautiful children
One boy, one girl
Life was busier than ever, but during the holidays I visited mamá and papa
Mamá and papa were the same, nothing has changed except they got older
Oh how old they have gotten, but they still had the same hopes and dreams for me
They were proud, I have not seen mamá and papa in a while but they understood
They knew that I was busy making my dreams come true, they could not be happier
At age 35, my perfect life took a turn for the worst
Mamá was sick, she was diagnosed with cancer
I did what I could do, I sent mamá and papa money
Money was something they never had to worry about anymore
Their daughter grew up to be successful
The doctor said we were lucky to have caught it early… we?
I was not there, I was busy working, far away from home
But mamá and papa understood
They knew that I was busy working, they did not mind
They were proud their daughter was happy,
Happy making her dreams come true
At age 40, I learned about the meaning of life
Mamá was no longer with us…
She had passed away the year before
Heart cancer. I could not believe it
The woman with the biggest heart,
The heart with the most amount of love anyone could ever ask for
Gone in a flash, but where was I?
I was working, I was working because I wanted to achieve the American Dream
The American Dream that led mamá and papa over to the United States
At age 45, papa became sick to
He never showed any signs
He never let me know that he was getting weak
He was not the same young man when I was 5, he was fragile now
I could not see him though, it pained me
I was away… I was working… I was always working
I was trying to continue making my dreams come true
At age 50, I had everything that I could ever want
But everything that I wanted came at a cost

It is not my story to tell:
Languishing dreams in the midst of barbed wire fences,
Fearless laughter,
We add lemon, chile powder and salt to this border.

They carry these stories,
Heavy as a sack filled with indignities,
Weighty, like your grandmother’s advice,
Cumbersome, like this daily mental displacement.

I have not bought big things as of lately,
In my mind I plan my exits,
I constantly check my relocation fund,
“What if” is a constant in my lexicon.

I often break in tears at the sound of an immigrant story,
My emotions become gallons of water:
broken and splashed by the boots of immigration officers,
Little do they know, we are cacti:
Tough and our seeds also flourish post mortem.

I want to sing an immigrant song:
Less like butterflies who migrate,
But more like dislocated nations,
Collateral flesh, caught up in steel thorns.

Rest assured we will survive,
Like leaves of siempreviva,
Even after torn away from our stem,
We will grow our own roots:
Defiant, resilient, and with a stubborn willingness to belong.

We are you.

Alimento del alma
trigo en la mente.

Transporte invisible
maquina del tiempo.

Castillo vagabundo
voz del universo.

Si hay dios del tiempo
eres la diosa omnisciente.

Ritmo cardiaco
instrumento del mundo.

Risas de niños
crujir en la madera.

Te escucho,
te siento
y luego te canto.

i come from whispers of Venezuelan lullabies
y las stories que viene del corazon de mi mama.
the annual celebracion de Corpus Christi is a
constant reminder de la amarilla, azul, y sangre roja
coursing through my veins.
when i was younger,
yo baile durante horas con mi papa
and sung at the top of my lungs
until the last bit of oxygen
en mi pulmones deteriorated.
mi cultura is the incarnation of who i am,
it inhabits every cell en mi cuerpo,
and never will i ever consider
disintegrating the ashes on which mis ancestros
were founded upon.
it's the embodiment of my children, and their children;
it's mi vida y mi alma,
and no one could ever tear down the walls
of this Venezuelan throne.

Esta vista cansada
que te sigue al caminar,
esta lengua antigua
que te intenta atrapar.

Siempre has sabido
como hacerme esperar,
para luego dejarme
como perro con hambre.

Me gusta besarte
con cada mirar,
me gusta tus alas
que brillan a la mar.

Estoy rendido
al sabor de tu amor,
estoy perdido
como niño en la plaza,
me siento lleno cuando
estoy contigo
y siento un vacío
cuando no estas conmigo.

La luna brilla a lejos
como queriendo
decir tu nombre
sabe que es amor
lo que se esconde
entre el mar,
tus labios y yo.

Sabe que son tus besos
los que me roban el alma,
sabe que es tu aroma
el que arrastra las olas,
sabe que tu cabello *****
cubre la noche,
sabe que es tu lápiz afilado
el que dibuja las estrellas,
sabe que tu voz
ilumina mis noches
y que mi vista cansada
te sigue sin medida.

Sabe que es amor
lo que se esconde
entre tus pechos,
sabe que en mi mente
se ocultan los secretos
del mar, tú… y yo….

Sheriff Joe Arpaio was convicted by the court
for picking on the immigrants of the Latino sort.
Relied on racial profiling and on intimidation;
A redneck cop who'd love to build a bigoted white nation.

Of course, this man loves Donald Trump and though he is a crook,
Trump has come through and pardoned him and got him off the hook.
So ***** the courts and rule of law that's there to thwart each hater;
This "law and order" president's a despot and dictator.

So if you are an alt-right racist, it's your lucky day!
El Presidente Trump makes rights and justice go away.