#boricua - Hello Poetry

I feel her stir and stroke her hand. My plan is to sedate her, gently bait her to sleep, Just a while longer, to somewhere deep, Where she can keep to her dreams and in those dreams recede. The seams of this island Are too fragile for her agile hands. When she wakes, she shakes mountains, And tangles the sky by the locks of her hair. And sighs of rain—alert, at her thunderous applause— May as well be daggers for the damage they cause. We’d barely survived her, so I now lay beside her. I wrap her in lullabies, so life may thrive despite her. I feel her stir, and stroke her hand. There was only ever this feeble plan. The seas are calm; it’s barely dawn. I hold my breath and she slumbers on.

0

Aug 17, 2020

Aug 17, 2020 at 9:45 AM UTC

The_Lemon

Guabancex, or The Lady of the Winds

I feel her stir and stroke her hand. My plan is to sedate her, gently bait her to sleep, Just a while longer, to somewhere deep, Where she can keep to her dreams and in those dreams recede. The seams of this island Are too fragile for her agile hands. When she wakes, she shakes mountains, And tangles the sky by the locks of her hair. And sighs of rain—alert, at her thunderous applause— May as well be daggers for the damage they cause. We’d barely survived her, so I now lay beside her. I wrap her in lullabies, so life may thrive despite her. I feel her stir, and stroke her hand. There was only ever this feeble plan. The seas are calm; it’s barely dawn. I hold my breath and she slumbers on.

16

It is sweet like the middle of May Moldable like Taino clay Its juices stick to my skin because it knows about sweet tooths The cravings crash into my body like waves do the sandy shores that harbor its trees Shake shake shake Till 10 fall from the tall tree I try to grab them all but people weren’t meant to hold that much greatness My small hands grab the biggest and the smallest Peeling off its green and orange skin Letting the sweet juices create art on my body My teeth sink into sweet orange flesh Reminding my body that this taste goes back for generations Who knew fruit could time travel

0

Oct 1, 2018

Oct 1, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC

leethebee

Mango juice

It is sweet like the middle of May Moldable like Taino clay Its juices stick to my skin because it knows about sweet tooths The cravings crash into my body like waves do the sandy shores that harbor its trees Shake shake shake Till 10 fall from the tall tree I try to grab them all but people weren’t meant to hold that much greatness My small hands grab the biggest and the smallest Peeling off its green and orange skin Letting the sweet juices create art on my body My teeth sink into sweet orange flesh Reminding my body that this taste goes back for generations Who knew fruit could time travel

13

Donde se mete la mano, se mete la pata Si me acordara, en que momento me comencé a quemar en el aceite caliente de los errores creame, usted que me lee la hubiera sacado hubiera perdonado …me hubieran perdonado. Después que se cometen los errores, todos te lo advirtieron Te vieron ahogarte y nada hicieron o tal vez nada quisiste hicieran Vi el mundo correr y del macabro orgullo no me pude desprender. En esto de las erratas, es fácil recaer y con mi historial, fogatas se pueden hacer Más que un tropezón, es una profesión Si hubiera atendido a tiempo la condición no tuviera porqué excusarme, todas estas voces serían fetos y no tendría que intoxicarme de medicamentos ¿He aprendido algo? Sí Si te me acercas mucho, mucho daño te haré. Además, he aprendido algo esencial… Donde se mete la mano, se mete la pata.

0

Aug 29, 2014

Aug 29, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC

kiara-del-valle

Errar

Donde se mete la mano, se mete la pata Si me acordara, en que momento me comencé a quemar en el aceite caliente de los errores creame, usted que me lee la hubiera sacado hubiera perdonado …me hubieran perdonado. Después que se cometen los errores, todos te lo advirtieron Te vieron ahogarte y nada hicieron o tal vez nada quisiste hicieran Vi el mundo correr y del macabro orgullo no me pude desprender. En esto de las erratas, es fácil recaer y con mi historial, fogatas se pueden hacer Más que un tropezón, es una profesión Si hubiera atendido a tiempo la condición no tuviera porqué excusarme, todas estas voces serían fetos y no tendría que intoxicarme de medicamentos ¿He aprendido algo? Sí Si te me acercas mucho, mucho daño te haré. Además, he aprendido algo esencial… Donde se mete la mano, se mete la pata.

24