Category: philosophy
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Prayers to the Saints of Prison (excerpt) (duplicate)
The vowels are in solitary confinement The consonants are being beaten by sadistic dictionaries . . .
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arnoldo garcía: No longer Oakland
Three poems by Arnoldo García No longer Oakland The smell of Oakland, Trash-strewn wind The rotting smell of hamburgers mixing into the tail-pipes of carbon-monoxide a street-curb sewage sludge of leaves, discarded clothes and legs of chairs tilting the natural world over us I walk to work Alongside the streetwalkers The only ones who smile…
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Prayers to the Saints of Prison (excerpt)
The vowels are in solitary confinement The consonants are being beaten by sadistic dictionaries . . .
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Paradise under construction | A note on “Building Socialism” RPB poetry anthology
All poets, good or bad, with or without anti-capitalist politics, weak or strong anti-racist and anti-war practices, believe in and want paradise on earth. Paradise has different names according to the language your heart speaks. Paradise is where the beloved and I pour our souls into each other. Paradise is where I harmonize with the…
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Poetic justice: A world of human rights
We want human rights because… No human being is illegal, No human being is a minority, No human being is undocumented Everyone has a story to tell, a history to be made, a dream to fulfill, a life to live to the fullest, to the deepest end of time Everyone has the right to grow…
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Justicia poética: Un mundo de derechos humanos
Queremos derechos humanos porque… Ningún ser humano es ilegal Ningún ser humano es una minoría Ningún ser humano es indocumentado. Todos tenemos algo que decir, una historia para hacer, un sueño para realizar, una vida para vivir plenamente, hasta la profundidad del tiempo Todos/todas tenemos el derecho a envejecer, vivir en ternura, amara abiertamente, trabajar…
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Day Four 2019 | The cellphone baby
The cellphone baby criesbewildered by human voicesUnsteady in our armsThe cellphone screen filled with rhythmic red ocean wavesand a toenail moon calms her for a breath or twoHer skinher hearingher sighther touchher hairher bodyis wirelessher ancestors are blockedher father is in jailher mother needs a breakher grandfather disappeared years agoand her grandmother holds her tightcomforts…
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Day 3 2019 | My houses have been left in smoke
The air is dyingThe wind has become a banner bloodied with carbon monoxideEveryone is in awe of their beautiful sunset/sunrise photographsHumans are flat and believe the earth is tooThe sun sends messages and warningsAnd we take photographs.The electricity company did not start the firesWe did.everyone is a little predator-consumer:we flick the switch, we press the…
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Before your name becomes a wound
Before your name becomes a wound on my tongue a scar on my heart a drowning in my lungs Before your name becomes revenge for a past that was never yours fists that crush the face of your lover the sky a crumpled man, a prisoner of oblivion I will hold on to you I…
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Incessant: The beauty that cannot be stopped
My people are beautiful their bones are made of stone their blood, vines that tear walls apart their skin a gift from the sun that binds our wounds to our words My heroes never said they were going to give their life for the people, for the land, for the infinite horizon of our communities…
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