See Her


She is a goddess, once broken.
Celestial stars crown her in twilight;
The fire of her passion illuminates the naked night.
Through the vehemence of her eyes, see her.
The delicateness of her is unchanged;
Though strong winds blow against her,
Her scepter and crown remain.


A Letter To Myself

Victor,

You’ve survived death. You survived the treachery of so called family. You will rise up on the wings of the archangels and see your mother’s eyes again. You will not be deterred from, or neglected happiness for any reason, for anything, or for anyone. On the ship of life you are your own captain; the seas will not always be like glass or welcoming. You will face adversity; you will face hostility; You will be required to navigate treacherous waters and come out alive. No one is responsible for you, but you. No one will throw you a lifeline if you are drowning—you must adapt and swim. It is okay to forgive the abandonment of your father, but never be like him. Cowardice is not tolerated. It is courage that runs in your blood. Your mother looks down on you and kisses her son.

Be mindful that you are now a leader, and must lead in strength and righteous judgement. You are stronger than ever before and you will not falter. The events that happened in your childhood will not haunt you; intrusive thoughts will not bother you. People of the world are easily lead astray, so when they walk the broad road, you walk the other way. In matters of love: love with reckless abandon, giving all of yourself at the risk of being hurt or betrayed. A woman among women will see your true emotions and love you more for showing your vulnerability; it will not be considered a weakness.

Furthermore, be selective in your choosing, and diligent in your approach. Be a man among men and stand on your rectitude, even when it is not popular and the masses are against you. Do not let any particular emotion control you. You are a man of deep love and a critical thinker. You carry the banner for your aunt Julia, your mother Viveca, and your grandmother, Alvara. Everyday is a new day; be thankful for what you have and be considerate and respectful of others. Always render respect first, until the person proves themselves to be underserving of respect. Never give in. Never relent. If the world turns its back on you, always know there is at least one that will always love you, and she lives in you until you see her again.

And So It Was

Fall winds blow against faces of sorrow;
In unsightly agony the beautiful wail in peaceful meadows;
Archangels glow and the peace that follows;
Heaven’s showers fall on parched weeping willows;
Blue starlight graces streams that quietly flow;
A child is conceived under the mighty cover of redwood trees;
The dead inside let out a loud cry and begin to breathe;
Children of the night discover flowers made of white diamonds;
Magical trees shed golden leaves.
Whale mothers lovingly whisper to their calves in night seas;
The earth sings her song beautifully to the listening pleasure of the galaxies;
Adonis is resurrected and blows a kiss to Aphrodite;
Hannibal seeks redemption and marches on Rome with reignited armies;
A Lunar Eclipse causes the kings of the earth to weep Uninhibitedly;
A crown and scepter is given to the once downtrodden and lowly;
Mothers of slain sons see them again in glory;
Souls long to ascend in the anticipation of the opening
Of the beautiful twelve gates of heaven.








The Final Revelation

I loved you, but you didn’t love me. Me eyes deceived me, and my heart kept it from me. It wasn’t until the day I drowned in my despair and you stood and watched me coldly without a care—that I knew. Your misandry escaped me; in my agony I lamented that you presented your true self to me not so subtly—but in that stark revelation, were the cornerstones of my salvation. In my heart your name became a byword for treachery and indifference. The lacerations of my emotions were for so long revealed in every sentence. I release myself from you. I purge you from my system. Truly, physically you are beautiful, but your heart is poison. I understand now that you are who you are, and have been from your inception. I do not seek your approval; I have no want nor need of your acceptance. Unawares, you drown and are consumed in your own uninhibited wantonness. Upon hearing the news of your inevitable imbroglio, I will be dispassionate and listless.

Temper, My Heart

Temper, my heart, lest you give yourself away too soon
And tell her that you love her, and that you would die for her.
Preserve the mystery, do not give your secrets away so quickly;
Do not cast aside the cloak that covers your desires.
Hold back your true feelings until it is the right time;
Perhaps with rose petals scattered on white linen tables
Furnished with delicious entrees and Riesling wine.
Be careful not to startle her mid sentence with talk of
Falling in love and adherence;
Your words must be delivered as smoothly as silk
in the truth of forthrightness.
Talk of long held feelings, and compliment her beauty
At least twice during the evening;
Preferably, in the beginning, and at the end tell her again.
Do not be sheepish in your approach;
Draw out of her words she might not normally convey,
But do it tactfully and respectfully.
Remember she is a flower and must be handled delicately.
Inquire about her family and ask her about her favorite recipe;
Speak to her lovingly, and infer that you see her in your destiny.
Finally, be humorous, and in the tone of her laughter
Seek the secrets of her soul and the substance of her beauty;
Caress her with reassuring words that appeal to her feminine sensitivity.



For Breonna

From brown eyes spilled tears, and in the blood that ran, was love, courage, hope, anger, passion and the sorrow of many years. In the throes of death, what words are spoken in the last moments of breath? The last tears that fall are the essence of the preciousness of her soul. Heaven knows the injustice that will follow; heaven knows that the words from the executioners foul breath will ring hollow. The slaying of black innocence is rarely recompensed. An accounting for the shedding of blood is seldom witnessed. What then of the heavens? Do we not fervently cry out for vengeance? Do we not cast ourselves on the alter of justice and weep in sincerity and reverence? They feign solidarity with us, yet within the blinking of an eye they would unjustly kill us; their words are meaningless and their souls, dark and cancerous. Behold, the face of the slain. Let us look upon the countenance of an angel one last time and kiss her, before the world uses her name in vain, and with prejudiced disdain, dismiss her. Her memory now lives in us, and we are its keeper; we will not relent. We will not falter. Her soul dwells in celestial light forever, and with a crown of rose gold adorned with white diamonds, she smiles in her beauty and walks the vast halls of her fathers.

For George

Lifeless he is carried; his open eyes look towards the sky.
The remnants of his tears stream, just minutes before he screamed
I can’t breathe, still the evil one pressed harder with his knee;
In his last moments he called for his mother; in distress he was, but 
Still, he could see her. Cold-blooded eyes stared with arrogance in the air;
Inside they smiled for they relish the instillation of fear.
We hang on in constant distress hoping that our salvation is near;
Strange fruit appeared on blood spattered trees for so many years;
Our brown hue our only sin— Constantly in our oppression we are set back
Then begin again; Our lives lived like a tormented novel 
Written in the bowels of hell and narrated by the devil.
Over fifty years ago, We Shall Overcome was sung,
But still now we sit anxiously with weathered hands wrung—
We survive but we have yet to thrive. Systematically we are targeted
So our solemn plight is to stay alive. They see our sorrow, 
But they ignore our cries; I swear under the heavens 
and on the pain of my grandmother’s eyes, that one day . . .
That one glorious day, we shall arise.