Published

I did it! I had a work accepted for publication in the online version of The Rio Grande Review. Okay, so it's not in print, but this is a start. lol The piece is Boom Town which is one of the poems I have liked since the beginning. I submitted other pieces, but those still need work. I am just happy to have received encouragement to submit poems. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't accomplish a lot of other things. So let's call this the start! I gladly celebrated with two sandwiches and Pringles for dinner. It tasted sooo good.

Lately, I feel like I have been on repetition, saying the same words repeatedly. i don't want to be shut out, unwelcomed.

sueño
que mi cuerpo
se levanta
de tus manos
y allí voy
entre tus dedos
escapando
del calor
a la voz
de tu musica
me encuentro
voltiado
entre tus palabras
y historias
entros los
sueños
de tu amor

Reality

This is perhaps as real as this blog will get.
My brother came down from Houston and I am happy to have my family here. I saw almost everybody in the house when I got home. It felt like home, it felt like life death granted me a wish.
And we drank and we ate, we talked...always about the past. There is no bother of the future because it will always change. The past, it is the same. We have the same ideas of the past, it doesn't matter if we agree or disagree.
My brother is like my father figure.
I show my fatigue more, for show. I do not care. I am awake and i write for the intoxication. I write to the truth that says:


believe
that life is some
complex being
some monster
in the mind
that brings out ideas
and lives to eat
what is missing
that love monster
is going out
to the pasture
to the filed
the orange field
and going into the
deep
of dreams
and little snakes
they dance
and they make
the gestures necessary
to say I am
alive for this
alive for some sort of feeling
and rising
of emotions
this is my life in this instant
and I feel
alive

Almost Friday

means that i have to complete two applications by some time during the day, advise approximately nine students, and then volunteer at JDC.

But on the bright side, I resolved my struggle with car insurance. I bet everybody knows how insurance is not only a safety requirement, but also a measure of independence. It's true, my society says. I could have become truly independent and held insurance on my own name...for the price of about $847 dollars. Or, I could be the son that still has insurance under his mom, because that will run about $247.
Independence is too expensive, and I'd rather deal with the cost of mom insurance. I'll take the passionate reminders because for companies I'm not old or safe enough to be trusted with cheap insurance.

There was something else to write, but it must have been a lie.

I am thinking----------------------


erase my words
from context
and develop
this sense of
love code switch
trade my amor
for love
cuz amor is
passion
and love is
commitment

cuz u deserve
some type
of forever
para siempre
l-a-o-m-v-o-e-r

Miss

I miss right now. I feel words are interrupted by thought, and I only want to feel. Tomorrow I read in public, and I don't care. I will read and leave, and forget that my words are 78 of two thousand for the day. I am looking for poems, and want to be ridiculous. I want to repeat this:


The neighbors have a cook out
and they feed the dog, bones
they give them the sensation
of being human
the way that we
walk towards each
other we walk
and we dance
we follow the chairs
the empty seats
and we begin to see
how we can go through stages
the nymph
becomes the dragonfly
and we share a cup
this is just another love poem
a lie of where we once were
a drink
there was almost an incident
when the small pick up truck
was a gust of dirt and force
there was almost a time I fell
out of love
when I worked my bones
into words
filling my mouth
like lips.

Tired

I am officially tired. I haven't been this involved in life, ever, I think. I'm enjoying it though, but I used to get my thoughts tied up because I was thinking to fast, now ideas develop in my mind, travel through nerves, and finally, reach my tounge in bits and pieces.
So I'll probably take a day off soon. What will I do that day? Work. But, i'm not complaining, just trying to take everything in. These are moments I want to enjoy, but sometimes they are confined to schedules and deadlines.
And my dreams keep growing. I dream of business and the community. I'm not afraid of failure, but of beginnings. I fear wanting too much, as I do now. It feels the past six years were spent at a standstill, but can i start running now? Can I make everything that speeds next to me into the best moments? I want to learn again, I want to travel, get lost in small towns and literally be nobody. I realize the time I spent traveling before was knowledge even though I didn't search for specifics, and picked up whatever i could find, but now I know what I want. How much do I want it? Can I change/outgrow myself or is this who I will finally be?

Here is my "I just wrote this" poem for today's blog.



dichos
que dicen amor
from two medium eggs
a can of refried beans
and a fruit
concotion:
orange slices
pecan bits
jicama.
this almuerzo
sin nombre
ni apellido
is mama's
gift

Pray

I was asked to pray, but I don't believe in god. I think that belief can be respected, but its not. Should I compare myself to the native in line for conversion? I did pray, thanking for food and my company, but I didn't mention god, so maybe that saved me.

Spur of the moment poem-

Pray
to you
i think
light falls
and prays
for dusk
and back
rubs
for a sign
of hope
of salvation
in me
hope
hope
hope
love lives
inside religion
that a prayer
can save me
from falling down
to my own mistakes
that being
catholic
was another mistake
that curanderas
don't really exist
and herberias
sell rosemary
y hojas de limon
pray
that i can order
meat like a man
drink beer
like a man
and pray
i love
like i did
believed
i could
save or
be saved.

Mentiras

I think I lie because I speak through emotion. I know the real, but it changes when spice is added. I see a hair with a slight tip of grey, but i call it un pelito perdido entre los otros, 28 years of missing, loving, hurting and then hurting, loving, and missing. It's a final fall leaf about to be plucked. One million songs through my head and 500+ beers in the night...memories...deja vu...daydreams...But it's not that...it is a single hair with a tip of grey.

Here's something new

I blame
icicles
falling
freeing
heart ideas
mind feelings