she wanted to enjoy her year,
but her constant state of mind
is a long glass wall.
looking through the
other side,
her lover lives.
on her current side,
she is no longer safe
around the people she trusts most.
the other side has her
words plastered on every
surface visual to the world.
positivity.
the grass is not necessarily
greener, but the mountains,
my god,
are taller and fresher
with the lakes sparkling
beauty.
solitude.
her current side contains
her words sprayed on to
every surface
invisible to the world.
negativity.
she hides away.
her lover speaks
with swords.
her best friend takes
the heartbeat away
in her sleep.
her mountains are muddy.
isolation; danger.

Upon the shores of Malachite
Next to the cobalt seas
Under molten silver slivers of moonbeams
That shatter on the crystal icing
Covering the diamonded waterfall
By the golden sand . . .
Gather the Unicorns
Of Neptune , Uranus , and Pluto and beyond
Playfully cavorting between
Steel seas and emeralded mountains
On the frozen sands of time unchanged
For a thousand Earth's comings

But it's just a dream
A lunacy , a nothingness in the night
All my Unicorns have taken to flight
And were never there
Or were they ?

All the frozen seas . . .
Are now warm Florida Keys
Under a full August moon
And all the mountains . . .
Are impossible fears
That have faded into prairies
Swelling like seas
And there are no proof prints
In the sands of time
Of a far away race
Frozen in time

El oro, cuando lo golpea, brilla.


I want to stand at 3,082 meters
On the overlook above Machu Picchu — close
Enough to the edge so my timid toes
Flirt with wild columbine and teeter

On white granite stones laid centuries ago.
Speak to me the way the Andes
Breathe cumulus clouds phthalo blue. Seek
Answers in the form of temples. Slow

Down time in the Room with Three Windows —
Hanan-Pacha: bless my fears with conviction.
Kay-Pacha: reject this earth’s mundane affliction.
Ukju-Pacha: watch my seedling-soul as it grows.

Move with me in cyclical certainty from ruin
To reverence, beyond what words can measure —
Even the old Peruvian proverb for treasure.
Our trials make us mountains among humans.

As I have gone alone in there
And with my treasures bold,
I can keep my secret where,
And hint of riches new and old.

Begin it where warm waters halt
And take it in the canyon down,
Not far, but too far to walk.
Put in below the home of Brown.

From there it's no place for the meek,
The end is ever drawing nigh;
There'll be no paddle up your creek,
Just heavy loads and water high.

If you've been wise and found the blaze,
Look quickly down, your quest to cease,
But tarry scant with marvel gaze,
Just take the chest and go in peace.

So why is it that I must go
And leave my trove for all to seek?
The answer I already know,
I've done it tired, and now I'm weak.

So hear me all and listen good,
Your effort will be worth the cold.
If you are brave and in the wood
I give you title to the GOLD.

I wasn't born here
though this is where I spent most of my life
and where all my friends are
I used to visit my family in Puerto Rico
but it's been six years since I last saw them
I planned on going back this summer to see them
but I can't
I realized I may never go back
my aunt, cousin and uncle are coming here
and there will be no reason to go back
my grandma will come visit us
instead of us seeing her
but I miss the beach
and rain forests
I miss the mountains
the warmth
the view
I miss the food
and the crowded cities
and the street vendors that came with it
I miss the smell of the ocean
and the forest
the ice cream and guava jelly donuts
god how I crave the taste of home
I miss the friendly people
and stacked houses
and riding in the cab of my uncles truck
I want to swim in the waterfalls
and come across the ice cream man
while we walk through the forest
and buy mango ice cream from his cart
I want to tan on the beach
while a man gets his Cheetos stolen by a bird
and a group of friends blares music from giant red speakers
I want to walk along the shore barefoot
sand squished between my toes
and the wind scenting me with the ocean and forest
I want to sit on my grandma's porch
and laugh with my family
and watch as a Chameleon crawls across the railing
changing colors as it runs by unnoticed
and most of all
I want to wake up every morning
to the smell of breakfast
and my family being noisy and laughing
trying to get things done and bumping into each other
teasing each other about being clumsy
and planning what to do for the day already
but knowing we'll end up winging it anyway
just doing what we want when we want
I miss my little island
and I miss the joy and excitement it always brings me
sometimes I wonder why we stayed here
when we had family waiting for us to return
and we so obviously couldn't stay away for long
I miss everything about
my beautiful little island