THE PISCES GIRL

Curses exist
and they will persist

through the ages
they will fill pages
of the family tree

Yes, I see-

like father, like son
like mother, like daughter

like grandfather, like grandmother
like sister, like brother

like a vicious disease
passed to one another

Unless you come clean
you know what I mean?

All it takes is one
to ruin his fun

to break the cycle
to undo what’s been done

And then start anew
fresh leaves break through

Curses exist
but God’s blessings do too

Who will be first?
To reverse the cursed?

Will it be me?
Will it be you?

Fear may fight it
but your affection for me
does not go unrequited

I push and I shove
but deep down
there’s pure love

for everything you are
for everything you’re not

you say you love more
but my heart is what you’ve got

it’s all I have to give
for as long as I shall live

I ain’t rich
I ain’t poor

I’ve got plenty
but some say
I should have more

Sometimes, I daydream
about the finer things
but I often leave out
greed, power, corruption, ego…

what great money brings

I could have more
but what more do I need
when everything I’ve got
my soul it does feed?

Please don’t judge
my humble inventory of stuff

I live
I laugh
I love

and it’s more than enough

Who says you can’t do what you want to do?
Just Do

Who says you can’t be what you want to be?
Just Be

Who says?

Not me
Don’t let it be you

To not feel
it’s not real

I’m crazy
the situation is hazy

It’s all me
of course it is, what else can it be?

Don’t tell me

one thing
but do another

I love you
just like a brother

You don’t
You won’t

It’s okay…
It’s always been this way

But don’t tell me

I’ll pray for you
there’s something wrong with you

Pray for yourself instead
Try to get inside my head
my heart
and see what tears it apart

Just listen, instead of hear
and it all becomes more clear

Here’s something I’m pulling from my poetry vault-written a few years back. I know I’ve mentioned this before but Schwabs and I really love to travel-particularly focusing on small towns in Texas. One of the reasons why we love to travel is because it’s always an adventure and we never know who and what we will encounter. Generally speaking, we have seen some very cool things and met so many beautiful kinds of people-with interesting stories and memorable personalities. It makes us smile to later reminisce and talk about crazy so-and-so who we met in small town, Texas. But every once in a while, we also encounter people who we’d rather forget. For those people, I wrote this. Hope you’ll find it a good read!

Old, white women
oh my God, you are the worst

For a confident, educated latina
you are my curse

You see me walk into your little boutique-y stores
holding hands with my light skinned husband, one of your own

My painted nails, my shiny ring, my style, my swagger-you hate it all
Beneath your breath, how you grumble and groan

You try your best to put me in my place
You’ll ignore me, or glare, or make a stinky face

But I could care less,
you old, wrinkly dinosaur
I am who I am-nothing less and nothing more

You viewpoint is archaic
I thank God you’re a dying breed

We live in a modern world,
where that kind of attitude no longer serves a need

And it never really did
but when you grew up, you weren’t required to keep your ignorance hid

Wake up, grandma!
You’re lookin’ mighty silly to me

Why don’t you let go of your preset notions
It’s easy to do-just a change of thinking
it requires no magic or potions

We’ll start with something simple
like when I smile at you
you could smile back at me

Just this one little gesture
could set us both free

Ever heard of separation of church and state? Here’s mine: separation of work and personal life. At work, I’m personable enough to not come off as a raging bitch, but still, I don’t bother to show anyone all of me. Because work is work and my personal life is my safe haven, where I surround myself with only those I trust to see and know the real me.

I didn’t realize this about myself until recently, but apparently, the work me is pretty darn nerdy. Here’s a little something I wrote about it. Hope you enjoy and Happy Friday!!

It’s too pretty to eat inside
and no one asked me if I wanted to join them
or hitch a ride

Not that I mind
’cause sometimes, my own company is the kind I find
the most soothing to my soul

and if I’m sitting at a picnic bench beneath the trees
it gives me the chance to shake off the sterility of the cubicle
and just breathe

Nothing like a midday pick-me-up
listening to the chirping of the birds
and the wind rustling things around
and the sound
of nothing

No computers, no phones, and best of all, no words

Though yeah, sometimes, I look like a loser
’cause I’m convinced I must be the only user
of this picnic table, a little island of nature
amongst an asphalt and office building jungle

“Poor thing!”, they all must think
She sits all alone
no friends to call her own

They don’t know what I do
How nice it is to sit in the peace and quiet
they don’t buy it
but they’re all too scared to try it

So today,
after cliques had gathered and gone
I grabbed my lunch and made my way
to my lonely island

I cleaned the table and prepped my lunch
so excited to be alone with my thoughts

but I hit a snag
when a group of chatty hags
picked up on the same hunch

Up they came
invading my turf
looking at me like I was doing the same

“Go away!”, their eyes said
but in their silence
they snubbed me instead

Ate with their backs turned
like I hadn’t earned
the ‘pleasure’ of their company

Which I still overheard
mindnumbingly boring chatter
my happy solitude shattered

to remind me
at work
I’m still just a big nerd!

A little something I wrote because I was bored. Hope it makes you giggle!

I heard through the grapevine
that someone thought my poetry shit

My heart sank
and the ink dried up
because I became embarassed of it

But life went on
inspiration gone

To myself, I thought
there’s other talents to pursue
guaranteed to impress the likes of you

Then one day,
I woke up and screamed at the top of my lungs
“Hey! Why do I care what you say anyway?”

And in my fury,
I began to write

Who deemed you judge and jury?
Who died and made you poetry king?
And what have YOU written?
As far as I know, not one damn thing

So, I’m blowing it off
don’t care if you scoff

Other opinions don’t matter
they don’t have the power to shatter
what belongs to me

Words and lines
they’re all mine
and I no longer mind
how they’re defined

You can call them stupid or funny
silliness that won’t bring me fame or money
rudimentary crap
or a big, steaming pile of shit

I’m cool with it
because sometimes, my writing is just like verbal diarrhea

Guess that means you’re not too far from the truth
Yes, sometimes, I am uncouth