focus my nation
Challenging implicit bias
ok class
for today’s lesson
look in the mirror
and praise your spirit
in math class figure out how many smiles it takes to get you through the day
in philosophy ask not where did our giants go wrong but how can we usher their wisdom to the promised land and have them witness you building their home
in logic it goes without saying fight for your right to think for yourself otherwise no one will ever be free
in ethics and religion agree to disagree knowing that there is no perfection in humanity
and in politics the new world order is to be debated and cut open so tell me what you really see can AI really be the savior that they say it is
and when you’ve reached your elective class use art to create the hate and pain away
and after all your work is done class will be dismissed
so run out to the playing field and level it out with love and lots of elbow grease
two bloods in a pod
Ixchel’s children
bury me standing feet
rooted nowhere sleep eludes
me walking forever before
Cain’s sin gave rise
to grief that flows
my blood in history
am i not a
star child too nomad
in the mystery of
God like child in
birth to surf the
skies where serpents lay
in slumber this universe
was made for multiple
stars to shine at
smiles so bright that
return the favor blindly
4th
gold line passes through there
four tribes meet and they have been for longer than i can ever know
one Meso one Afro one Europe one Orient peoples beautiful all
same hearts one dream different strokes same same same
the bridge is there she lays on her mighty back we cross not just concrete slabs but worlds too
colors flavors scents labor dignity and the human ego of course
united by segregation of their color segregated from each other by being throw an occasional bone starving of their soul
but upon closer honest sober observation on days of rainbows i can see where the tears are stitched to form the Nation where i stand
we are Los Angeles
riots marches torn down houses strikes children centers Lakers unity churches merchants Mexican chop suey Columbian Korean fusion Woody’s ribs Lupe’s tacos Italian house Red Hot Chili Peppers surfers boarders models ballers
the four directions on the 4th street bridge and what it’s come to be and what we’ve become by it is the rainbow children of our Lady
so before the Hall keepers House gablers blues reds and judge and juries request your seats mind and remember
Porciuncula and her kids do lead and ever will this vast kaleidoscope table
we’ve always been
how
the things that are not going anywhere in the tunnels of this life
hands tired how to explain the whys of it all
roads paved with loss hey not everything is a party take time feel her out look in eyes that have never cried for herself
what about the cramp in the gut are we starved disgusted crazy or lost
how did we get here were we tricked how in the name of freedom and doing good did i give up the bond to my soul in a most obscene way
how can i teach my brother to fish how can my brother relish what’s his if he is severely sick how can i teach my sister to fight and feel out her heart if we both have to be vetted and protected from each other
atheist riot
warm Sunday
City Hall lawn
young people
bright yellow
biker shorts
we too
sit there
moving slowly
watching smiling
at the
busy gnats
we drank
sour beer
sharing one
warm can
that took
three hours
to buy
our sisters
a yard
away talking
and pouting
smacking lips
laying out
their tired
patchwork skirts
they twirl
bottle cap
rosaries between
their stained
fingers etched
with cuts
and cracks
the brothers
coming out
of trance
acknowledge that
nothing here
will change
too many
men on
the job
too many
brains and
greedy wallets
planning our
fate and
we all
look up
at the
trumpeting birds
and we
rise in
arthritic waves
even though
were under
thirty one
and in
a hallelujah
arm stretch
above our
messy heads
our sisters
break out
in harmony
as their
washed out
bone bleached
bracelets jangle
snapping fingers
send a
thanks to
the heavens
the brothers
do a
little dance
and onlookers
stop to
stare with
smirking eyes
and jaded
quips against
the humble
family on
the lawn
who can
only address
God outside
of hypocritical
sanctimonious walls
la princesa guerrillera de la sur central
pequeña niña un sol con cara
triste que a la misma vez sonríe
porque así dice la ley paternal
florecita de todos colores
tus pequeñas raíces se esconden
detrás de palabras que ahorcan
tu garganta por no poder decir
lo que sientes en la casa
en la escuela en la telenovela
siempre debes de ser
de una u otra manera
pero cuando nuestros ojos
se estrellan los tuyos morenos
llenos de vida
los míos verdes escurridos
porque han visto mucho en la vida
tus labios se parten en dos
arrancas de tu mami y me miras con valor
oiga porque tiene esos dibujos en sus manos
y con mucho miedo me haces responder
son tatuajes quieres ver
y dices que feos tiras tu mirada al cielo
vuelves a la mano extendida de tu madre
pero solamente tú y yo sabemos
que un día vas a disparar tus propias palabras
a los cuatro vientos
mientras que las mías se quedan trabadas
en mis pasajeras manos
a princesa guerrilheira do sul central
menina um sol com cara
triste que ao mesmo tempo ele sorria
porque é isso que a lei paterna diz
florzinha de todas as cores
suas pequenas raízes se escondem
por trás das palavras que pairam
sua garganta por não ser capaz de dizer
o que você sente em casa
na escola na novela
você deve estar sempre
de uma ou outra maneira
mas quando nossos olhos
seus pardos quebram
cheio de vida
meu drenado verde
porque eles viram muito na vida
seus lábios se dividem em dois
você arranca da sua mãe e olha para mim com coragem
ouça por que você tem esses desenhos em suas mãos
e com muito medo você me faz responder
eles são tatuagens que você quer ver
e você diz feio você olha para o céu
você volta para a mão estendida de sua mãe
mas somente você e eu sabemos
que um dia você gravará suas próprias palavras
a quatro ventos
enquanto o meu fica trancado
nas minhas mãos que passam
south central warrior princess
little girl with a sun for a face
sad but at the same time she smiles
because that’s what the paternal law says
little flower of all colors
your tiny roots hide
behind words that stick in
your throat not being able to say
what you feel in your house
at your school in the soap opera
you must always be
one way or another
but when our eyes collide into each other
your brown ones full of life
my green ones drained
because they have seen so much in life
your lips split in two
you tear away from mommy and you look at me courageously
hey why do you have those drawings on your hands
and with fear you make me answer
they are tattoos you want to see
and you say their ugly while you look at the sky
and run back to your mother’s extended hand
but only you and i know
that one day you will launch your own words
at the four winds
while mine stay locked
in my aging hands
shameful irony
after a long afternoon nap on USC’s lawn i lift my arms toward the heaven in crucified form there’s hair in the grass and my skateboard is gone i sit there still wondering what happened to me was i just walking and then crashed to sleep or was i doing something i’d later regret people my age future doctors lawyers business men grounds keepers maintenance crews walked slowly on by talking about this or that getting up i fell down twice no one looked a second time maybe it was the grass stains on my shirt makeup runny laces untied LA Kings jersey hair in a nest from my left eye i catch the PD stares i smile a dainty coy like smile and they ride their bikes toward the black guy who’s finely dressed reading the medical text book
words less spoken 