Category: Uncategorized
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Le Signe de la mort
I bleed onto raw untreated canvas so that the stain spreads on brown stretched skin aging deteriorating vulnerable. I stab the surface and watch the red be absorbed flow through the veiny threads, left unconserved to rot in the sun of la verdad y el tiempo. Asesino la palabra amor con mi pintura femenina. Respiro…
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En Este Riconsito
No existo. Juge a la escondida con la fantasma de una mujer muy viva. Desaparesco sin dejar heulla olor es como si nunca estuve.
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Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometimes
I wept the first and second time I watched this movie. Maybe I need to stop watching it.
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Juge Todo
Y me quedo con nada
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Milagros
After a 9 hour operation inside her head, My titi opened her eyes last evening and started singing. She recognized her sisters, her nieces, and her daughter. She said she was happy Obama was president and sent love to my toddler. She knew her name, the year, where she was, and she knew that she…
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I Do Not Live, Work, breath in the Abstract : This is Real
Yes, last night was historic. As much as I wanted to bask in it, feel it, cry for it, and jump for it, it was hard. For the past few days I have been in the middle of a family crisis. My dear tia/madrina, the one who was always just down the block from me…
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Why Mamita Mala Wears Red Today
Today is the day to wear mourning colors, fighting colors, birthing colors, crying colors. The color of the blood trapped behind bruised skin, the color of blood shed monthly reminding us of who we are and our power, the color of lives spilled behind closed doors in silence, the color of screaming. Today is the…
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Columbus Day Observed
Columbus Day Observed 2006 I wanted to sleep in today, Warm beneath my sheets, Warm inside my house, Leaving the early crisp October chill just beyond my comprehension, Behind barred and shaded windows That keep me and the public shielded from reality But the sound of US sponsored bullets Ricocheting off of innocent Iraqi skin…
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Open Your Notebooks, Not Your Mouths
Use your talent and energies wisely. Move forward. Grow.
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Peeling Off the Burnt Layers
I fell asleep sad last night, sad about things that weren’t said, about being in the shadows and hearing only mangled whispers, forcing me to invent, imagine in dramatic poetic endings. That is what poets do when not given words, we make them up, even if they aren’t accurate reflections of anything except of the…
Maegan E. Ortiz - Mamita Mala 