Reliquia

MY CHILD

HOW DIFFERENT YOU ARE FROM ME

BUT

A PART OF ME YOU WILL ALWAYS BE.

I WILL RECITE BEFORE I AM ALL TO WEAK

KNOWING THAT CONDITIONS WILL DISTORT WHAT WE SPEAK:

“I am from a time-

I guess……….

I am from a time where they questioned the terrorist

and the idea of what it meant to be a terrorist.

Shield the law from the thought to act…..

espionage was never the fact.

“YOU DON’T HAVE THE LANGUAGE”

All I have are these symbols

that will create an attempt.

My life ruined………

But they forget that it was never mine

It was simply the one that you loved with the mind.”

- IIIIIIIIIIIIIII, (Saudi Arabia)

I miss your taste between my lips

Let’s sweat together

that we may see the carcass of what is known as beauty.

What time is this?

Left

Right

Up…….

Behind-

Shadows are more certain than what I see.

Anything new

anything different

that is what the citizen says is missing.

Who was I trained to be?-

You know…..

I will refuse everything

remember….

everything you made

you made with me.

It lies in everyone’s eyes

it lies in a touch- in a scent

at times your thoughts are all I have.

I witnessed the body politic consume itself-

empty it remained.

I will remember not looking into a lens

surrounded by bicycles with broken chains.

“What was it that you were trying to take out?”

A hand to the heart

held there by the force of three balloons.

What were we doing as you were dying?

We wanted more but all we did was love through the lens-

true faces of joy never reveal without being felt.

We will be reminded to write about our wars-

to master our wars……

we will praise the dying in this war

we shall raze the dead

we will raise the flag of security-

we will attempt to learn from this war

and-so……

we will move on to the next.

It was the lost cosmonaut that told me a corporation

is the passive that obeys false resources.

Sacred codes…..errors that are caught by technology.

Energies that restrain desire are not those that govern.

Do not write as if you knew insanity

productions of time are measured by the color of clocks

tuned into the crowd.

She knew that she had to remember rising in between

the marriage of heaven and hell:

“What is now proved was once, only imagined.”

Children spit blood

when their lungs are filled

with visions of fortunes formulating the future.

Skin

lips and eyes betray symptoms of improvement.

He is aged now-

and to face the facts would mean to accept

that for all of his life he has been a good sleeper…

dreaming of good habits.

.…..if it is beautiful

then they won’t kill it

they’ll just confine it and catalyze wars

if it is beautiful

then they won’t kill it……….

- New Mexico

What would you put in its Place.....

Today my hero died

my hero dies today.


I will tell you his stories

His name was mesimo…

mesimo was his name.


According to the history of our sidewalk,

he appeared one cold night out of the darkness

to walk at the pace of a rising sun.

The following is what he told those who were there

to witness his appearance.


Hello everyone, every one…….hello….

I come to you from the other side of the street

from the other side of the street is where I come.


Far away is my home

and it is not much different than this….


Another mother tries

another father cries

another child dies

the future will close its eyes


You thought that you had wisdom

when you explained all the lies

imprinted on my eye

are the lives of the wise


My people of no time

all those who bleed

living life in the streets

who breathe reality and continue to persist

dream in beds of poverty

while synthetic souls are daily freed

repeating what they need

and reciting what they mean


No form of worldly weapons

will ever destroy my essence


I give to you everything that I have inside

earth, wind, fire, water formulate the mind

thoughts that don’t connect

reflect the time

lives meet but they always compromise

a life.


Hello everyone….every one….hello

- rhemhi

To Live in South L.A.

To live in South L.A., breathing in the cold smog air. As

you wake up, light up a cigarette rockin in your chair.


Listening to the bird in your morning window.

Covering your ears to the sirens at night. The night

goes really slow, as you wake up and hit that blow.


To live in South L.A., fast moving pace life. Escape to

this city for some money and fame in the expect.

Snorting bird and stripper clubs is what they see as

respect.


Drinking the night away, dreams faded away as you

sleep throughout the fucking day. Your fake

forgiveness as you wake up on Sunday and pray.


To live in South L.A., poisonous chemicals flowing

through your veins. To be in a fictional world. Heroin a

forever stain. Covered in blood you should be

ashamed.


To live in South L.A. It’s hard, it ain’t easy. I hope you

hear my story 1/3 for peace sake…….what’s your take?


- Erick Moran

Near Real Time

 

To the hospital

where judgment is cynical

your condition is critical

but

here fill out this form

and tell us where you were born

 

It’s an emergency

only when your income

has a constant frequency

 

So

while you wait and bleed

you have literature to read

Do you need surgery?

Is your family in need?

 

They say

take all these brochures

it’s your fault you never learn

you better work then you earn

and then you get insured

 

I saw a woman die

then she came back to life

they said she had to pay

she said,

I just closed my eyes-

I just closed my eyes

now you’re charging me a price

to travel through the mind

to travel to the place where

my pain has no face.

 

Don’t be ashamed

if with the words you don’t relate

just keep your mind alive

and your people elevate

 

performance every day

yet

they say it’s not a play

when you create your own act

then the stage they try to change

 

and-yes

I do see better days

I do see better ways

children playing in the streets

throwing rocks in the pond

chasing birds in the park

running to greet the dark………

 

one day we’ll change the time

one day you’ll feel my mind

one day flying pigs

will be falling from the sky

- Inai

Falling Sand

Waking

I felt my eyes dry

worn out by my daily routine.

 

My eyes opened

 

I am the common

the unknown

something in between

the language that was stolen

and then

spoken by the kings-queens…….

 

Memory fails

to give sight back

questions become offensive

when they disassemble

the networks of the members

of diverse global empires

 

it is still the old world

it is only dressed

with the new world’s clothing

 

there is no need to order

for when it comes

there will be disorder

on your screens

 

the world moves

when you begin to heal

but

it never really stopped-

you begin to feel

 

it is true.

 

There are two beginnings-

One nature gives us…..

the other

we give to ourselves.

One is finite…

The other is not

- rhemhi

Violets

The mind is green in trees-

difference triumphs in stairways

nobody knows

I never told you

how it began

perhaps

maggots have the bees

Have you been there and then?

Know the green lady reconsidered

the end and all was said

 

How will I know the giant?

Dance

take marbles to the baker

look for the oven the tail doesn’t lie-

 

The beautiful and tragic are sick

the bountiful stick sits on thrones

with gnomes

the heart and liver were meant

to stain the knees…

nothing

no thing blossomed without

the black rose.

 

I will keep the secret that everyone knows-

I love you more than death loves the living

  -Flasco

It's time to go

Grow with the memories

that access all the forces that last

 

time and time again

I begin to understand the past

 

I remember listening to the sound

of the door as it opened….so subtly

tearing through the web of air

vibrations

the vibrations of the web lacerated

my skin

and I saw you there

we said goodbye

I am not the memory of love

I am not the memory of love

but

I will make you remember life

 

movements that were grasped by their minds-

but I wasn’t there…

So, I really can’t tell

 

Wasn’t it you?

The one shooting and taking notes

as they walked into the office-

into the school, church, temple…

into the mosque

 

But then again

I wasn’t there….

So, I really can’t say.

 

Pray or be shot

pay or be shot

 

Times and lives no longer visible

as you pass your days witnessing

massacres while you keep a straight face-

keep your pace

keep the grace in your pace as you go on your way.

 

    “somethings will never change.”              

 

A whisper is heard.

You paint your face

with mercury and lead

when you conceive that you

are already dead.

 

I was there

for 30 days and 30 nights-

immortality had to die.

En El Aire

At times

if not most times

it is called tradition

and in reality it is uniquely empty…..

A desire to conform

passed on in the image of assimilation

fuels economies of security and an identity

that is connected to multiple faces

to defend a lifestyle without which

it has no meaning.


I sit here

and begin to think of all

of the sadness and misfortunes

that life has allowed this child

to see, feel, and understand…


A girl

will not be able to have a child

she does not know this yet

but

the choice of having or not having

will no longer be with her


A man

that can no longer see

the connections between his

actions, ideas, beliefs and his relationships…

leaving him in a continual state of

anger, frustration, sadness, hopelessness- all in one.

Not knowing or forgetting why this is so-

he drinks and fills himself until everything

seems fine and makes sense to him


A boy

that was raised by his grandma

and from her he learned to love

but

he also learned how to be a racist

and-now

now that she has passed away

he is left in the forest by himself

struggling to get out

not because he doesn’t possess the tools

he needs but because he lacks the skills

to recognize these tools…

so he wanders and wanders

only to wonder why he wanders…


A man and a woman

that cannot acknowledge the role

that each of them had in the corruption

and destruction of their relationship-

their marriage…

always reminding their children

that the fault was in the hands of the other


These misfortunes

and events are the ones

that I speak of at this moment

because they are the ones that are

most fresh in my mind


it is not out of preference

it is simply something that has

been written on the surface of my heart


These experiences

have become a part of me

and continue to do so

in one form or another.

Time and time again

I begin to see why life is beautiful

which makes me think and ask myself,


“will I still see the beauty in life as I grow into an adult?”


At this moment

all that I want to say is yes.

And

if this is not so

then the me I know

died the moment

you-

stranger

read this and believed

that I was a fool

for thinking such a thing….


But

I hope that when you-I read this-

you have become a better person

than the one you were while you

were writing this……


- Neomiy


I forgot that the moon was there

Maybe

if I would’ve met you

at another time…..

but

I didn’t-

I met you now


So I’ll take what I can

and

I will leave what never

belonged to me


I want to love you

I want to eat you until

your orgasms take away my hunger


Your tongue gave me words to travel


I want to love you

because your mind seduces me


Maybe

If I let you go now

I will meet you at another time


- Flasco

Sun and Moon

I don’t care if the sun and the moon

come out and tell me

that I’m not the one

I’ll still love you the same

I’ll still love you the same

 

you saw the scars in my eyes

we traveled through our lives

all you did was walk on by

and you entered my mind

 

won’t you just breathe me in

with the surface of your lips

you grow into my soul

even when you let me go

Mi Joven Viejita

Mi joven viejita

Mi amá querida

 

Te han despreciado

aun no sana tu herida

pero

nunca caminas con la mirada caída

 

Te violaron

pegaron

a tu alma callaron-

trataron……

 

por que contigo nunca se la acabaron

sonríes y vives

aunque tu cuerpo está cansado

 

¿Cómo es que en tu paso alegría no se ha olvidado?

 

Respuesta

Contestas

 

              “Mis raíces jamás se han secado….

                y es mas

                en esto

                tres hijos e creado.”

 

Ya lo tuve pensado

decirte unos versos

para alivianar a tu corazón pesado

 

pero luego me acuerdo

contemplo

y doy tu ejemplo

 

          “Ya de muerta

            para que quiero flores

            lágrimas de dolores

            y expresiones de corazones

 

            A mi denme esto

            mientras este viva

            mientras no sane la herida

            mientras mi corazón todavía respira.”

 

Y con esto le doy palabras a la vida.

Han dicho por hay

que eres una mujer miedosa

silenciosa

una cualquiera

solo una imagen preciosa

 

No te preocupes

mi joven viejita

mi amá querida

 

Te han despreciado

pero aquí hay tres

que tu voz siempre han escuchado

 

Me acuerdo

contemplo y siempre

con respeto

doy tu ejemplo:

 

           “Soy una mujer

             con muchos huevos y ovarios

             es por eso que han sido varios

             los comentarios a veces peores

             que los sicarios

 

             Pero acuérdate

             solo son comentarios

             sin significado es por eso

             que quedan olvidados.”

 

Mi joven viejita

mi amá querida

te han despreciado

pero

aun así, tus raíces

no se han secado

 

por que de ti

seguimos enamorados.

Dawn to Dusk

My tomb is vanishing.


“No. Not your tomb.

The memory of you is vanishing.”


Yellow and orange

are the colors that

pass me by

they are dying

deep into their deepest secrets.

- Flasco