Best Puerto Rican Poems
i was seven the day they knocked —
“can we play with the spanish girls?”
yaphia and tarita,
smiling like the sun outside our door.
mama laughed,
said “spanish girls?”
because yaphia’s father was puerto rican too.
and that was the start -
the start of everything.
we held each other like secrets -
first periods, first kisses, first heartbreaks,
all the firsts we whispered into the walls.
we cut class, we laughed, we cried,
we failed, we succeeded,
we survived.
there were things no one said out loud -
but we carried them all the same,
in glances, in silence,
in the way Fire looked when no one was watching,
in the way Tarita’s smile flickered just before the storm.
we’re mothers now,
with children and husbands and lives that pull us apart,
but when we meet -
time folds.
no distance, no years,
just the same three girls
with the same unspoken pact.
whatever secret needs telling,
we tell.
whatever joy needs celebrating,
we celebrate.
no questions asked.
no judgment given.
we are more than what tried to break us.
we are the mothers, the sisters, the keepers of light
who never forgot how to hold each other.
we carry each other still -
in laughter, in tears, in the spaces between.
and i love you, girls,
more than words in this letter can hold.
thank you for being my safe place -
then, now, always.
True definition of a hood love story,
They called him Felony.
Skin was as smooth as a shot of Hennessey.
He made a lot of other men envy.
His style was particularly different from the rest.
No gold chains around his neck, but a simple rosary lies on his chest.
Underneath his Sunday best was a solid bullet proof vest.
His pockets had a secret treasure chest.
Steepness with infinite thickness,
But every man has a weakness.
She killed him with kindness.
A righteous lioness,
His royal highness: his positive guidance.
She was the offspring of the titans.
Exceptional of importance to his reputation,
She was his foundation freedom from his everyday discrimination.
A safe haven like a wave equation, her name was Money.
Half black and half Puerto Rican,
Skin complexion of an Egyptian he nicknamed her Isis.
Dipped in gold went perfectly with her skin tone.
She was an overgrown precious stone.
Foreknown Money was working with the federal bureau of investigation.
Deeply in love with a convict but yet victorious triumphant.
Stunting on everyone’s judgments Money is Felony movement.
A step ahead of the government,
Never seeing a seal indictment
Money was his antidepressant.
Felony was her significant participant.
Both of them reaping the enjoyment,
Bonded by each other’s fulfillment,
Seal their delinquent intimate commitment.
In love with a codefendant left them with a Bonnie, and Clyde ending.
Love testimony of Felony and Money
i am from you have to work for it
from worthless and invisible
i am from hatred.
i am from 7
from black and white
i am from not begin accepted for who i am
i am from you are who you are for a reason
from depression to anxiety
i am from i want to be happy
i am from Spanish
from puerto Rican to dominican
i am from slang
i am from Michigan to Indiana
from drugs and alcohol abuse
i am Tiffany (12.22.11)
i am from grandmas house
from Christmas tree to scary costumes
i am from big celebrations
i am from don't talk back
from sleeping in
i am you fend for yourself
i am from the heart and soul
from beat and rhythm
i am from hip-hop and r&b
i am from jeep music
from slow jamz to gospel
i am music
i am from Illinois
from small town
i am bloomington
i am from two human begins
from the womb inside my mother
i am Ayanah
I leave my home in Trinidad
And I come to live in America
And now I working at Kmart
Whole day at a cash register
But I do have a lot of problems
Every time I get hungry to eat
all it has is a bunch of junk food
Or bread with some artificial meat
So I decide to take all my money
And invested it in a food van
Is about time I introduce to America
The tasty cooking of we Trinidadian
And I though for the first few days
That business will be real slow
Boy, but I was so wrong
now I see people line up for so
So I open up with trini breakfast
Smoke herring with tomato and roti
Baggi, Pumpkin, baigan and aloo
Fried bodi ,doubles and fever grass tea
It’s the first time they tasting Doubles
The chutney burning some of them nose
One guy look like he from Russia
Drop some curry channa on his cloths
I get all the recipes from my brother
“naz cuisine” The best food in Trinidad’
Some people start complimenting
Saying, it’s the best they ever had
A white man faced turns red
Eating the double with plenty pepper
But he says how he likes it
It has a very nice flavor
And For lunch I roll out the big guns
All different kind of talkari
Goat, duck chicken and fish
Bake and shark, bush up shut and dhalpurrie
Two Puerto Rican girls
One looks like Mariah Carey
They order dhal, rice, and goat meat
Saying how they love the curry
And every body line up
They love the curry real bad
And every body talking about the curry
the curry man from Trinidad
From my stove comes hot roti
Tomato choka and fry plantain
Since morning people line up
Waiting for the Trinidad cooking
And now is evening everything sells out
I didn’t even keep one roti for me
And now I feel real hungry
So I guess I will buy a bucket of KFC
Only little black girl at school and her white friends admired her ‘tan’
–“I'm brown all over” she told them, proudly motioning to all her body.
But skin color can be an issue
I remember the back of the bus-
although we rarely rode it because of that.
I remember for colored only water fountains
segregated schools and lunch counters for whites only.
I remember the caste system at my high school- black step back, brown stick
around, white you all right.
I think Langston Hughes captured the cadence of it.
Bright skin girls were queens and princesses, beautiful and fair.
Black girls were well, BLACK and that was supposed to be a negative.
And then a funny thing happened on the way through the sixties-
BLACK was beautiful and the skin color dynamics began to change.
It came out of the closet and was addressed by white, black, brown, red and
yellow people.
Now skin color is celebrated in all shades and hues although
I still hear teenagers at my high school (I'm a teacher now) say things like,
"I'm not sitting out here in no sun, I don't want to get any blacker than I am."
And of course prejudice has not disappeared it has mutated and we do have
stronger defenses against it in some cases.
Interestingly even skin color defines some of my "brown" students.
They react to the "darkness" of each other and their parents, relatives and
friends.
"My mom is real dark, Miss, she don't look nothing like me."
"Miss, do you think I look like a Mexican? I don't look nothing like a Mexican."
"I'm a Latina."
"There's no such thing as a Chicano, it's something people made up, either
you're a Mexican or you're not."
"What does that mean-Hispanic?"
"I'm Cuban, Puerto Rican, and El Salvadorian, from Belize; Honduran (We got
black Hondurans, Miss)” That’s the color of skin thing.
There has been such a backlash against immigrants
that I decided I would put out a thought.
Do we remember the immigrants
Who for our country fought?
Starting with our revolution
when this country was born in 1776.
There were immigrants who fought by our side
Von Steuben, Kosciuszko, and Pulaski were among the mix.
What have they done since then you ask,
to keep our country great ?
There are those who battled oppression with us
even up to the present date.
I do not know of particulars in 1812
or even in WW I.
But if immigrants didn't fight for us
They joined the 'Melting Pot' that eventually made us one.
WW II is another chapter
of immigrant oppression we let go awry.
How long could we have fought that war
Had the Nisei not gone to Italy?
I have had great kindness in my life
by two different immigrant cultures shown.
One was Puerto Rican; the other Chinese
who accepted me as one of their own.
It was more than kindness.
It was a true caring and love in their way.
One gave me the confidence to move ahead in life
The other became my family.
Without the strength of these diverse immigrants in my life
I don't know where I might have gone.
I would certainly not be here writing
but somewhere else...lost and alone.
So when I hear people loudly rail
about an "Immigrant Crisis of State",
Remember, We all came from roots elsewhere
This is what makes our country Great!
Hey girl, what's up?
just called to check on you,
Cuz when you're part of the sisterhood ,
that's what sisters do!
Be times good, or be times bad,
rather you woke up happy,
or rather you woke up mad,
A sister will listen,
she doesn't always give advice,
she's thoughtful in her responses,
thinking it over twice.
Night or day,
it really doesn't matter,
she'll say girl, let's have some ice cream ,
and get a little fatter.
Be it the kids, the husband,
the job, or another issue,
sisters sit down and grab a box of tissue.
What I have is yours,
and what you have is mine.
Have you ever seen three sisters,
share a single dime?
Well as sisters, that's what we do,
I wouldn't say it ,
If I knew it were not true.
In the sisterhood,
We leave the crabbing, the backstabbing, and
vindictiveness behind.
For it takes too much effort,
and we have too little time!
So sisters,
Let's build each other up,
not tear each other down,
Let's greet one another with a smile,
and forego the nasty frown.
Each one teach one,
is what I say,
let's make empowerment the word of the day!
Let's promote the positive,
or say nothing at all.
Let's lift each other up,
not make each other fall.
Let's be truthful, thoughtful,
and prayerful of each other.
Let's strive to take each other,
just a little bit further.
I'm brown, your tan, she's dark, she's light,
One sister is Puerto Rican,
and the other sister is white.
Our complexion, our race, doesn't play a part,
because the sisterhood, cares not about color,
or status, it's all about your heart!
We won't always see eye to eye,
or always agree,
but I've got you girl,
and I know you've got me!
Storms may come,
but we weather them together,
trying to stay dry,
beneath one umbrella!
So ladies,
When things are bad,
and you can find no good,
there is always comfort to be found ,
in the sisterhood!
As women, we are often misunderstood,
So ladies,
I thank you, for promoting sisterhood!
It’s not how much money you have it’s what you do with it ,
Price of living will show the shift of urbanization and the immigration,
Of people moving from up north to the south land is cheap where empty vacancy is available,
A small city to easy it is a lot of immigration of Irish and British decent and that is how they, Classification then same as now days I am see more New York and,
Chicago people pop up in my city one day it will be no reason to move it like the,
World is coming to the city with Puerto Rican and Italian crisis more of them arrive in,
North Carolina which rank close as top ten for people to,
Migrant and what I was told of living up north is it,
Mold in the apartments a person here could live middle income for,
Label force for cheap but not that many great doctor which people are,
Force travel out of county as well for work no wonder they call my city a place for
Retiring but what in world to do when want a date and church is totally out question,
It’s not how much money you have it’s what you do with it,
Urbanization.
Slice that ripe green Avocado
Love it with my rice and beans
Oh it looks so ripe and yellow
Slice it like a tangerine
Let's make love under La Palma
Lay out our blanket on the clean
Luquillo sand - allow the Puerto Rican
Sun to bath us with its warm Latino hands
Soothe our bodies, comfort our Souls
Heat our blood as we become one under
La Palma and Puerto Rican Sun
Excerpt from "The Big Apple Turns Brown When
You Slice It - selected poems and essays of my
Nuyorican Culture." 2002 www.authorhouse.com
Every one ask me where am I’m from knowing I’m from,
North Carolina is my accent that officiate,
English is but not my first language if you can tell by my writ ting it is French and or Spanish it come
Very
Natural I am mixed with little bit everything manly Puerto rican, Black, and Cherokee but my mom
Said I talk like I am Italian when I get up set the Italian claim me from where from
The Spanish where I am from have in side joke that I am Cuban that what my dad said on job
I am minority with in a minority where from but I just say I’m Caribbean because when I research
Caribbean islands they claim me
The word other is becoming of age what is the political correct term I do not know
But I was force to answer this question on the poll when to vote and I have vote it in every term
So if I every make history remember me as Caribbean lover
From the “city that I am from”
Faces smiling, nodding politely
At words they don't seem
To understand,
Show me pictures,
Showing the richness of
A faraway distant land,
Multicoloured motor cars,
Brown apartments
Rising high in Puerto Rican skies.
If I Tell You, 2011
Vickie M. Ortiz Vazquez
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
What comes to mind?
Morena of “el barrio” or Blonde woman of “el barrio”
Better yet, pale skin-blonde from up north
That one, the straight English-speaking wanna-be
“Con su pelo lacio”
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Could you describe who I am?
Woman controlled, subjected by Welfare
Carrying on the poor women cycle
You know, the one imposed by the few rich white men
Shackled
Would you think of me in a bright light; dim light?
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Do you envision an immigrant, alien?
A woman once taken and brought at age 15
Beginning of her womanhood
Tormented by loneliness, isolation, ignorance
Frustrated by the never ending question, “Are you mixed?”
Misunderstood by her citizenship
Seen as unfair by many
Slaved island, unrealized
Are you able to narrate which Puerto Rican woman am I?
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Puerto Rican I am
“Café con leche,” Afro-hair, big lips, small nose
Distance between what I was and inspire to be
Clinching to her African heritage
Searching
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Can you explain the injustice my hair endured?
Constant search for assimilation
Assimilation
To break free
Impacted by those with similar skin color, Afro hair, big lips
Different
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Do you paint two contrasting siblings?
Light, dark complexions
Tall dark father with short light mother by his side
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Do your pages bleed from inspiration?
Disgust?
Stereotypes?
Would I read between the lines, a woman becoming her own?
Struggling between many worlds
Or, do you spell the notion of loud, submissive, sex symbol
You know, the one portrayed in the media
If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am
Can you decipher, WEEEEPA
Labels, 2010
V. Ortiz Vazquez
Girl, teenager, young adult, woman
Hispanic, Latina, Puerto Rican
Sister, aunt, godmother
Lesbian, woman of color
How important are these labels?
Why use them to define myself?
Better, use to be boxed within brackets
Brackets many times use to oppress me and those a like
Box me
Reduce at time, close to nothingness
Trap within groups
Recycling stereotypes, unfairness
Idiotic
Other times, forgotten
I am a woman
A Puerto Rican woman that is
I am a daughter
A Puerto Rican daughter, know this
Born to privileges that do not really exist
I am a Puerto Rican woman who loves another woman
Rights denied
Ignorance still prevail in 2010
I am brown skinned
How important is this? I don’t know, Do you?
Yet, I will not trade the following:
Daughter, aunt, godmother, woman of color, Puerto Rican
They provide an experience taken for granted by many
At times an understanding that others dream off
A strength given, passed down
Not forced or taken
I am the labels you love to hate
I am the labels you hate to love
I may not be Perfect but I have one of the purest Heart of Gold, I carry my Heart on my sleeve and like this I shall be until I grow old.
I'm not a bookworm or Original Gangster I do however have an old-school mentality an original Latin Flavor.
I can be as humble as my upbringing allows me to but don't be fooled, I can easily tell it like it is become a Puerto Rican Iceman with a cold tongue and cut you with brutal truths.
I love the day yet I find more tranquility at night embracing it's Gothic vampiric presence, Just lay back count the stars and be entrapped by the Moonlights essence.
I am a vested individual with many earned patches you can try to figure my world but there are many methods to my madness.
I am no poser I am who I am I Love my Family and cherish true Friends my name is Shawn Munoz I say this with a thunderous shout you can choose to stay a part of world or simply get out. ™©
By: Shawn Muñoz
The first time our lips shared a kiss
Was even better than first time I shot a 3 pointer and didn’t miss.
I can’t help but smile when I picture your beautiful face,
Believe me when I say no one can ever take your place.
A piece of my heart is yours, I believe it’s corazon in Spanish,
But this is my worry, that my feelings for you may never vanish.
Whenever I have the chance to make a wish upon a star,
I wish for you, because I feel I’m so close, yet so far…
Maybe it’s because of expectations I just can’t meet,
Maybe it’s because of my spirituality, although I feel that aspect of life is right at my feet,
Maybe if I was Puerto Rican with 40-inch arms,
I can never be Puerto Rican, but maybe I can grow some guns if I finally set the alarms.
Maybe if I was someone with an engineer job who you can take home to mom,
But my ambitions are growing, so much so that it’s hard for me to keep calm.
Whenever I have the chance to make a wish upon a star,
I wish for you, because I feel I’m so close, yet so far…
I love you as my best friend, but also love you in that other way,
So sorry I have complicated things so much, but is it possible one day I can still call you bae?
Deep down I know the answer, but a part of me still wants to hold faith and hope,
I would to do anything to catch the girl of my dreams, man that would be so dope.
Even if not with you in the end, I am still thankful for this experience of being in love,
Ever since it happened, I still can’t help but thank the man above…