He has no poetic garden to gaze upon
no outside to the inside of this room
Soft breaths of brothers 1, 2 and 3
like the breeze on the asphalt playground
of his tiny school, one mile away.
No light shines in his window
No birds sing hymns from leafing trees
No sign of spring or fall or summer
display beyond the sill.
In this place where nothing grows
is life, but hidden from the world
and the grand and stylish homes
(with their fruit trees and fancy lawns)
Within these walls with brothers 1, 2 and 3
mama collapses, exhausted on the sofa
and papa snores loudly from the floor.
He prevails with dreams and plans and sadness
in leaps and bounds and setbacks
between school lunches and cafe con leche for breakfast.
In the place where nothing grows, he lives.
Categories:
leche, character, family, growing up,
Form: Free verse
I’m from the smell of cafe con leche dancing around the house and
los primos already full of energy in the backyard.
I’m from guava and cream cheese crackers for breakfast and
the constant sound of abuela saying “come mas mi vida”,
I’m from the smell of fabuloso and mama’s radio never failing
to wake the family up on a sunday morning,
I’m from the sound of bicycle bells and children’s
laughter ringing through my ears,
I’m from salsa music and dancing until three in
the morning when los primos had already fallen asleep on the couch,
I’m from el que estudia siempre sabe and mi niña es
la más inteligente del mundo,
I’m from la prima’s hand me downs and creces
muy rápido,
I’m from ponte las pilas and the endless
sound of pages turning and pencils
scribbling,
I’m from morning traffic and
days with no end,
I’m from estas grande ya and
esa es tu responsabilidad,
I’m from a quiet house,
I’m from a quick breakfast,
I’m from an empty house,
No more fresh café con leche
to leave its scent behind,
No more time
No one to make
the house
a home,
I’m from never wish
to grow up.
Categories:
leche, 10th grade, child, childhood,
Form: Free verse
she says
to me baby
in her arms
i try to suckle
leche from
her pezon
i'll try all
day from
both but by
night will try
to climb back
into the womb
Categories:
leche, muse,
Form: I do not know?
desnudos oscuros, pájaros sin alas cojeando
Silencio de la música divina que fluye
ataúdes coloridos, santos marchando
sangre del pezón
Leche materna insípida
Categories:
leche, 1st grade,
Form: Bio
Have you ever been told that you want your cake and to eat it to.
Well of course, I do.
A Tres Leche cake…you would too.
A moister cake…there is none.
This cake is creamy, dreamy, and fun.
This cake almost melts on your tongue.
Three kinds of milk are soaked in this sponge.
Fruit and, whipped icing, blankets the top…
If my mouth could dance, it would be-bop.
Categories:
leche, food,
Form: Rhyme
secretos en las
semillas
las lagrimas en
las mejillas
duska denuda
pajaros sin alas
cojera
silencio de la
musica
fluye en el aire
mistico
ataudes de colores
santos ke marchan
sangre del pezon
la leche materna
sin sabor
tu eres mi consuelo
volver pronto
por favor
Categories:
leche, allusion,
Form: I do not know?
--- Matamoros, Café Los Panchos
mid-1990's
The old panaderia (café y pan de dulce)
on dusty Calle Guerrero between Once y Diez
is noisy and hot.
Sipping their best café con leche
while eating my barra de pan
con rico coco tostado, I,
Americano viejo, watch Martin,
youthful mesero.
He passes among the tables.
Through the kitchen entrance,
I see another muchacho;
he is washing stacks of dishes.
The heat of this first day of May
radiates from grey cinder blocks,
reflects off the speckled tile floor,
soaks my guayabera-clad sides.
Martin, smiling, brings la cuenta.
He asks: "Hay algo mas
que podamos ofrecer?"*
[*hay algo mas que podamos
ofrecer" = is there anything else
we can offer]
Categories:
leche, culture, feelings, introspection, irony,
Form: Free verse
a double parrilada
beef empanados
chimchurri chips
morcilla pudding
dulce de leche ice cream
provlone
cheese!
Categories:
leche, food
Form: Epulaeryu
La verdad en rebanadas
Visión cotidiana
No hay vuelos
Giros o inmersiones
Geometría emparedad
Que embotella seguidores
Humedad en la arena
Del desierto surge un bosque
Son sombrillas los primeros brotes
Rocas de algodón
Lo verídico no necesita sazón
Desayuno interestelar
Leche oscura y maíz
Vocablos sin raíz
Nadando en un tazón
La pereza que causa expirar
Esa es la verdad
Se dará cuenta al navegar
Sobre grietas con mechones
Es la nada retoñando colores
Veracidad obtenida al mezclar
Todo ángulo posible
En un solo tiempo y lugar
Caos sobre lienzos y pan
Construido con geometría rebelde
Orígenes con agallas y dientes
Por más que lo intente manifestará
Peces abstractos, lo no real
Incomprendidas notas de cristal
Sin calzado, conversando
Usando la jerga de Picasso
No comprenderá…
[La verdad es cubista…]
Categories:
leche, confusion, philosophy
Form: I do not know?
I remember how
you'd heat the leche
to make me a cafe con leche.
You'd use that special sock
to strain the grounds
fresh ground!
We'd sit and talk
by the window
watching our "kids" playing
in the back yard.
They'd bark to come in
wanting to share in the aroma
of your special roast
imported from Argentina
just like you!
I miss you, dear.
To: Enrique Esteban Barrera
1930-2005
Categories:
leche, death, love, pets,
Form: Free verse
Al completar trece, decidi lo mejor seria no crecer. No sere el primero en morir
como martir pues la pobreza tal vez me convenza que el aire ya no es gratis.
Mi casa no esta hecha de una caja fuerte ni tampoco se encuentra debajo de un
puente.
De pelo *****, tez café, feo, estatura baja, no enano, sin almohada.
¿Mi valia? 30 piezas de plata.
¿A quien sere vendido despues?
A veces frustrado en confusion sin salida con remedio al silencio.
Me pelizco el pellejo porque no quiero estar aqui en carne y hueso.
De payaso, con risa por fuera y susurros de lamento por dentro.
La recuerdo solo en imagen. Atento al sonido de su nombre. Al olor de su
perfume.
La busco y no la encuentro.
Esperando oir una buena excusa, mi fotografia se encuentra detras del carton
de leche.
¿Que te parece? ¿A quien sere vendido despues?
Categories:
leche, childhood, hope, loss, mother,
Form: I do not know?