El Nino love

the storm awakened my fears

my fear of loosing

the wind carried away my tears

the tears of knowing

Sigh, the more i love you

the more i hurt

Nigh, the more i know you

the more i face my truth

i curse El Nino

can i shower with you

let's dream together

while we both are sober

i embrace this agony

and the irony of being human

for i gain much more

for loving you as a woman

no matter what is said and done

my flesh starts its engine with you

the more I open my heart

the more I  brave life with you

Gastronomic love matrix

after i came back from the colorful market
excited influenced by chaos and complexities 
my favorite place of colors, smells, taste
vibrant and alive amidst the odds of life
a surplus extension of food traffic that caught my attention
local sweets and root calories wrapped in banana leaves
my most coveted is the wrapped coconut blossom spring roll
ube purple yam cake with sticky coconut flakes 
lubid lubid twisted crunchy bread sticks coated with sugar

just like a disaster, love and pain is a mix menu
reason and emotions are ironic contradictions
under normal circumstances 
the everyday mundane realities
brings us back to our responsibilities
choices, yes its a matter of choice
life unfolds like the tide in the ocean
high and low, come and go
it sings it songs to the wind
then carried back to the cosmos
when i see my self from a far 
i realize that there is nothing 
that separates me from the stars
and I am with the whole humanity 
suspended in the love matrix
so whether we learn to love or not
we are  encapsulated in the universe of love
and it grows out of our ears and mouth 
as we learn to communicate and listen
i guess our basic instinct is to love than to kill
and i have seen that grow out of lover's eyes
and extended by artist's hands
in the dance of the dolphins
in the breathe of whales
in the raise of morning sun
in the whispers of the wind
in the silence of night

specACTOR of disaster

i am cradled in the womb of disaster

as we build new homes for people 

as we invent games for the traumatized children 

as we gather the pieces back of our shattered dreams

as we re align the cruel consequences 
of living next to the water

with earthquake sink holes and raised seashores 

with flattened houses and mass graveyards 
with debilitating thick blood of war of religion
with orphaned children and violated skin colors
with increasing roofless refugees 
with the uncontrolled viral outbreak of ebola

I am also reinforcing my own inner infrastructure

as disturbing melodrama of my own personal storm

browsing the virtual universe of the online community
keeps me updated with news of human failures 

and the lessons of dysfunctional families 
emotional debris of tragic disasters

how compromising and demanding to be human...

at times i feel defeated by the characters 

who plays antagonist and revolves around me

though from a distance i am enriching my life

with experience as active spectactor of life

these characters are novelty classic personas 

i am likewise numbed as I co-exist 
with the rest of the pained and left behind

multi tasking for my multi-facted projects 
saves my sanity

with such responsibility 
I accepted with a sense of sacrifice

a constant surrender to life

as my body drowns to sleep
anxiety and panic disintegrate to the altered state 

it saves me from the death of reason

I crave for the mundane in times of solitude
the human flesh desire intimacy

driven by the passionate impulse 
to feel secure and loved

in a relationship, in a family, in a community

I feel life's pleasures are too fragile to drag along  

but worth all the efforts and pains of longing, 
is living, loving and learning enough

i am certified hopeless romantic
officially turned cold in the torture of the other

my poetry cuts though the bile that saves me 
from insanity and seasonal affective disorder attack 

my first aid and antidote for my existence 

my life's journey is both absurd and melodramatic

my family is a full house with characters of all kinds of archetypes
a talented self-depreciating ex-alcoholic dependent deceased Alpha male 

a martyr codependent victim in self-denial and in constant lies matron
a practical self-driven distant non-emotional rational genius brother
an abusive dependent trouble maker self-destructive brother

an insecure multi-task creative wandering middle child
a trying-hard self-depreciating aggressive and melodramatic sister

a hit-and-miss impulsive hard headed humorous immature sibling
it is a rich texture of the surreal imperfections and karmic settlements 
i have got familiar with the comic relief of absurdities and dysfunctions
we are all part of a whole karmic healing dance
life is a complete workshop

my mid life crisis is preoccupied 

by the melodramatic fears of losing and joys of owning 

I am rather interested with the details of all these complexities 
that gives me a reason for living

and a life to die for and love for...

In my travel, i gather all textures, 
all colors, flavors, feelings and adventures

I am a curious spectator of life's wins and adversaries 

and as a self-contained lunatic 
that have witnessed the low and high tides of existence

somehow the push and pull of circumstances 
pumps blood to my heart

then reminds me that life is about living 

and doing what you do best

then I think about love... 

i become invisible and endangered...

Cantera

As I walked two blocks away 
from the train station of Sagrado Corazon de Jesus
the  streets became a surreal scene 
twenty minutes walk to Cantera 
I have seen too much in just two blocks
I was greeted with the adversity of life
the contradictions of personal values
the unquestionable poverty
the lingering addictions
the self-inflected suffering
the unnecessary mortality
the fear and tensions in every street corner
the endangered smiles
the toxic canals
the sad isolation in substance abuse
the greed and confusion of consumerism 
and bright island colors of humanity
I took it all in and embraced it
It was the painting of life 
with every detail, line, texture and color on the walls 
made it a complete picture
This is the best walk ever to the heart of the island
a special experience
that no ordinary tourist would enjoy
But I was safe with Jose 
showing me the reality of San Juan
the heart of the community
the seed of the problem
I was so happy to see  courage and hope
when I looked at Jose’s eyes
Cantera gave me a sense of hope for Puerto Rico
amidst the adversities and contradictions
I came with a purpose
I left with hope
Thank you Mabel 
for believing in your dreams 
for you have made me 
believed more in mine

love is not enough

the storm awakened my fears

my fear of loosing

the wind carried away my tears

the tears of knowing

Sigh, the more i love you

the more i hurt

Nigh, the more i know you

the more i face my truth

i curse the love

that make me feel

jealous, instead of  being indispensable

insecure, instead of being adorable

i embrace this agony

and the irony of being human

for i gain much more

for loving you as a woman

no matter what is said and done

my flesh starts its engine with you

the more I open my heart

the more I  brave life with you

Bitter sweet history

As a child I observed

endless scenes of hard labor,

low wages,

landless tillers and sugar cane-slashers

harsh as the exploitation of workers

poisoned land

killed in acidity and fire

I did not question
I did not know what to ask
I even wanted to forget

In memory of the childhood wakeful nights

with the trembling ground as train passes

I snore in the wind chill of forgotten crimes

when i burry my endless dreams in my pillow

so I no longer keep a helpless anticipation

of seeing myself

drenched in my fear

alone in my guilt

buried in shame.

for being poor

for not asking.

Bullets and guns are everyday meals

in times of military offensive

cannon balls roared and shook the mountains

I was too young to understand

the leftist spite of bureaucracy

The dictator dependent economy exploded like a bubble

and left the people with nothing but foreign debts

The land were used by the landlords

To produce crops for the giant corporations

The land is no longer for food but for money

Left the people hungry

I learned the word poor

I heard the word hunger

for landless people lost their jobs

including my father

The sugar cane fields have turned bitter

with tears of children

with no food to eat

I heard many people have gone missing

and saw thousands of people in television

took the streets in protest 

I felt my stomach turning

I heard the promise of a much better food production with green revolution

Imported seeds, pesticides, herbicides, fertilizers became a business

And for so many years, the farmers were buried under insurmountable debts

that they took to their graveyards 

But the story of poverty is a lesson forgotten

Many more followed with a bigger dream

Expanding endless fields of export crops

Converting forests and farms

With lines of sugarcanes, pineapples and bananas

Farmers forced to sell their lands became farm workers

There is something wrong

This time more sophisticated with economic invasion

The once prolific country is now at the mercy

Of imported patented rice

We are now slaves to Monsanto and Cargill hybrid rice and hybrid corn

This greed opened my eyes

My childhood has planted enough fears in my frail young body
that sprouted an incurable shyness until I learned to break out from a hula beat
Later my lungs gasp for more air
as I swirl to the various records imported from America

I learned the word imported
Then some French fries grew in the appetite of a city dweller 
willing to digest imported labels

Global economy gave birth to excessive consumerism

The Philippines made it even sophisticated with imitation

Imported products

which marked the death of local products

graveyards for the death of culture and tradition

stories of my people never told

I have many more stories to tell

So I dance them

I chant them

I participate in the storytelling

Is this art? I don’t know…

I want to find my voice…

I want to be heard

But I fear in my heart in some occasions

That my voice will be used against me

I made films, poems, songs

Intimidated audiences in performance art

Questioned the streets with theater and colors

Shouted no to nukes… no to US bases… no to aerial spray… no to GMO

Am I relevant?

Am I heard?

Am I true to myself?

What is change?

What is to live?

What is the answer?

orgasm a sweet battleground

what has become of a meeting

so brief yet deep

the night stayed awake

as lovers 

entwined on the bed of grass

under the stars

in a shuffle of unmade bed, grass land or sandy shores made battleground

pungent sticky mixture of sweat and tears

when blessings come in a form of drizzles

rediscovers the passion

of finding 

a new beginning

a new passion

the heart bleeds as tears soaked bodies in an embrace

soiled the catharsis of a woman humiliated by her primitive sexuality

the wild woman groans in pain as the man skinned her to her death

unforgiving, unfeeling, ruthless barbarian equal to her weakness

lost a battle without the chance of a fight

succumbs to the destroyer who chants the shadows of her soul

liberates herself as a virgin of pain from the assaults of a man as his helpless defense

the curse of not having the man, and for the man who cannot live with a woman 

the wanting is a ploy of endless pleasures of a man 

infatuated by the mundane and the moment of mortals

the risk of openness

dissolves the woman into nothingness

the act of opening her legs

has reconciled her

to the mother and the nurturer

the giver

that embraces the advances of a man

accepting the fears of a man

the ego of blame for not having erections

the pressure expected of the woman to satisfy the libido of a man

the vagina surrenders to the affectionate watery mouth 

sharp playful tongue teasing venus 

tracing her curves surrounding

the sacred mound

where the tower of clitoris 

erupts when the moon reach

its heavens and the ninth clouds

then the river of mucus

shall contain the life form

that swims to survive 

only when the woman

opens her fertile ground

in the clear fluid of magic fountain

the woman claims her territory

on top of a man

mounted like rider on a stallion

she cups and plays with the rise of the phallic icon

till the stream of liquid

washes away the last of his ego 

while the pineal gland dictates the genitals 

the man losts himself

wrestles with the weak arms

and pins her soft body 

so she moves no more

but only groans and moans

as helpless as the feather 

as hot as the sun 

willingly accepts the thundering thrusts

till a man fall on his knees

speaking in tongues 

now the battle 

is won

when lovers pulls and purrs like kittens

for what matters 

after the sweaty encounter

more than the exchange of fluids

is the exchange of hearts 

where souls touches the deepest part

that a penis and a vagina 

has never been before

after the conundrum of emotions

men go away, quiet, contained, distant

women questions, concerned, intimate

the female meows in the night like cats in heat

so in the morning they bloom like lilies with fresh dew drops

as the male tends them with love