Words from an Insomniac still trying to find her way

Soy Chicana Primero /Writing for the right to be


Mommy & Me; Neither Aim to Please



You can’t get rid of this Chicana

I am one,
never shaken
always stirred
into the view
most commonly blurred.
You will see
in my readiness
in all my glow,
I am one
just like it should be
for those who don’t know.
I am willing
to set aside your confusion
because I am easy to read
less likely to speak
when the written word
does enough for me.
I am still one
when the dawn is anew
and you are outside
the comfort of your shoes.
I am still on top
of those who fear to change
of those who quiver
at the sound of my name.
I am one
one who has won
when you thought
you’d break my spirit
and take away my song
you were wrong
like you always are
where I am concerned.

Will You Listen?- (the missed out Inaugural poem)

Will you listen,

with your ears as heightened

as a man who is blind?

with your mouth quietly shut,

your hands at your side,

Will you take it all in,

every word, every thought

every point and every plea,

will you grasp it and take it seriously?

Allow it to dwell and thrive,

or will you let it flow

into one ear and out the other side,

like liquid cowardice

that reeks from within?

Like hopeless cravings made

from other plans that don’t

involve the people?

We only want to be heard,


We only want to be seen,

these tired hands,

exhausted eyes

these swelling feet

these damaged knees

these broken backs

of those who came before us

also screaming;

they too had dreams.

We want you to hear the stories

from those who came before us.

We want you to hear,

truly acknowledge the meaning.

Hear our cries, our weary voices

our pains and agonies

our hopes and our beliefs.

We are the reality,

it is your choice to perceive.

Believe me, believe them,

the world was built on the backs

of so many women and men.

Will you climb down

into the trenches where we live

where we give

where you seem to be

so familiar with?

Will you feel the pain

for eight hours a day

in the heat or the cold.

Back bent over

shoulders screaming for relief,

or standing for twelve hours

with a thirty minute break

two tens in between.

With a paycheck that dwindles

before it is seen?

Will you stand in a classroom

while the youth of today

choose a gun instead of a book,

as the words of great leaders

they piss down the drain

all in the name of

ipods and video games.

All in the name of

a lack of intelligence

and a broken home.

Will you sit back while

the future can’t handle their own?

Are you giving up on hope

on those teachers who fear

that danger is close

that failure is near

because no one wants

to get involved with family lives.

Change must start

if our country is to survive.

Will you sit in an ER

full of sick and suffering

with limited healthcare

and choices

watching nurses do more

while unheard are their voices?

Men and women who are under-appreciated

while they comfort the ailing

while they wipe up

the blood, the urine, the emaciated.

While lacking in sleep

lacking in pay

because healthcare

doesn’t care about patient

and hospital staffing complaints.

Will you stand up for us

against pitiful healthcare

against shameful wages

against greedy businessman

and uncaring management?

It is because of us

this world runs.

Are you still listening?

Will you continue to listen

as your new term begins?

Will you listen to a people

who want more than this,

who still want to live

still want to dream,

still want to love and give

all they can give?

The world was built,

from people who envisioned

a different world

then the one we now live in.

The people need to speak

since you seem to offer “Change”

Or is it still just a sham

in the political scheme of things?

It’s time to put up

or walk away quietly.

Will you stand with us

or against us

and start taking questions

from we the people who stand

and need to be heard.

This isn’t a popularity contest,

it’s a Presidency.

It’s time to get your hands dirty,

and understand the cries

from the rest of the country

you so want to support.

*Just a quick note. I was inspired by Richard Blanco’s poem, and with that inspiration came up with my own to challenge our President to perform his duties and still go above and beyond for the people. We should not be afraid to ask the real questions and expect real answers, because hope is all we have in the end.


*Excited to announce that my poem was added to the La Bloga webzine, January 29th.  This is definitely the year for all things possible!

Greed is Our National Anthem

I always have too much to say.

And why must I speak when there’s never any change?

I’m not begging for peace or for the rich to help the poor.

Fantasies don’t fly well with human kindness anymore.

But how about a little realism, for the future does look grim,

Is this really where you want the towel to be thrown in?

Everyone is doing it in such the wrong way

$ signs are the forefront for any start to change.

Another benefit for such and such gives my head an ache

Just where does that money go anyway?

And no more telethons… We seem to pay celebrities

More than we give to the need

How about the not so famous with their

Car washes in his or her name?

People seem to respond more this way

Hearts are compassionate when it’s

Happening close to home.

Where is the help when we have to travel 100 miles

And stand among the crowd?

Doing what?

Dancing for change? What a joke

I must say.

No one’s changing a thing when the song’s being played.

Homeless realization; it’s still on the rise

Aids and other tragedies haven’t been taken care of by

$ signs

Africa is still in pain, all of her children crying for rain

Where did the money go, who is to blame?                                                 Jan. 1, 2009

Honesty is a broken glass

I was comfortable once,

numb inside my mother’s womb

Now I go about, licking wounds

taste the bitterness upon cold lips.


far away in my own ideas

when outside there is nothing clean.

I will not look in their eyes


I won’t try to figure out

what they were here for.

I will not try to feel their worth

nothing’s there,

Numb, inside their wretchedness

excuses for a small crowd who never cared.

I was miserable

but comfortable in my real skin

counted each blessing

one by bloody one.

While I was ignored and admired

from afar

as long as they didn’t have to touch

have to call, or bother at all.


walking away from all the “feed”

of pointless points

they were trying to tweet.

Makes me want to be written

out of the family will

cast aside with no ill will

no great loss, or grief to spill.

We’ll all go on just like we do

and quit pretending.

My life no longer concerns you.

Ruined by Cool of Younger Years

Young children, ruined by cool

Trying to be juvenile

In delinquent ways.


Good trick:

Walking home on a hot day

Through familiar elementary school

Watching school police drive slowly by.


Lock the gates!

Lock them in, caged animals!

Without a place to go…

Now run home, fast!


But these short legs,

Not fast enough.

And how did he find the key?


Sitting on a curb,

The three musketeers,

Scared beyond our means.


Small threats of authority

We can laugh about it now,

We weren’t really that bad.


Walking home

Ruined by cool

We can laugh about it now, but…


Home meets angry faces,

Silent treatment, then more lectures

No longer brave, just foolish.


We can laugh about it now,

Sweet moment in time

Life on a high, we thought we were cool.


To be living again,

In that wave of foolish bravery

Happiness truly existed

The sun always shined; for us.


Young souls,

Ruined by cool

But left with fond memories

Always makes me smile.



Bebo,Tom,and I –

Pomona, CA in the 80’s