Se tú en todo su contexto

Hacerte una carta a ti misma diciéndote lo bella que estas, se me hace difícil.

He aprendido a vivir con esta persona
Que en momentos he odiado
Por el simple hecho de conformarse
Con la situación
Con las escusas predeterminadas
De actos fuera de su control.
Inclusive
En ocasiones
Hasta ha aportado inconscientemente
E inocentemente a esas causas.

En momentos he sentido su pesar
He sido testigo
De como día a día
Iba llenando esa mochila invisible
De tristezas
De angustias
De rencor
De hubieras
De remordimientos
Y muchas cosas más.

Claro
También le he dado sus aplausos
En cada paso que ha dado
La he exonerado
De sus ataduras preexistentes
Le he dado un abrazo
Cuando ha tomado decisiones difíciles.

He visto como poco a poco
Alza su voz
Tal cual ave
Que emprende su vuelo.
Primero dió pasos falsos
Que le dieron duras caídas
Y ahí he estado
Sosteniendola
Dándole una palmadita
Para que se levante
Tome fuerzas
Y siga su corrida
Mientras alza esas alas
Y despegue con fuerza
Que ni rafagas
Ni tormentas
La ahuyenten
En pleno vuelo.

Esta mujer no es una rareza
Mas es mi fuerza
No es una belleza
Mas es mi musa
No es la que fue
Ni la que deseo ser
Es mucho más
De su meta inicial.

Si yo pudiera darle una carta
A esta mujer sentada
detrás de este teléfono 

Le diría con amor y alegría:

No calles
Exprésate.


Cambia
mas no te olvides de tu esencia.

Sueña
Mas no te apendejes soñando.

Has planes para el futuro
Mas no te olvides del presente.

Vive como si no existiera mañana.

No borres nada de tus archivos
Mejor gasta y ten tesoros guardados.

Y sobre todo

Quiérete
Amate
Hasta que quedes sin aliento

No importa que tan blanco o negro sea el tiempo.
Recuerda que antes de eso
Existen un sin fin de colores
para poder llegar a ellos.

Y no hay mejor dibujo
O escritura
Que la que tiene su propio color
Su propia esencia
En otras palabras
Se tú
En todo su contexto.

Cold To The Bones

Wintertime
Cold and blackout time
People are starving
Thirsty and without a dime.

Pandemic time as well
As panic time
No light to heat
Food in freezer
Has gone bad
Since yesterday.

There should be a distance
Between people
Covid is still at large
Yet forced we are
Abandoning our shelters
For food supplies
And anything
That might warm us up.
Since what we had is perished
Due to lack of light.

But…
It’s not just us
It’s the whole community
We are all suffering
The big board game
The untouchables are playing.
We’re mere pieces
To toss and turn
To give some light
Or to freeze to death.

Zone of disaster we are called
Yet I see all of those big houses
With brilliant lights.
They tell us to unplug everything
They tell us to keep a low temperature
In our thermostat.
They tell us is our fault!

Yet…
I see those big houses
With Christmas lights
I see the businesses
Having their best time.

Is it just me?
Or is this
Just another political gamble
Just another way to torture
The masses in order
To win some big bucks
The old way…

I wonder…

La Vida

En momentos como este
Te das cuenta que
La vida te mantiene ocupado(a).

Naces…
Y lo primero que cruza en tu vida
Es sobrevivir.
Aferrandote a ese respiro de vida
lloras sin medida.

Suerte
Si tienes quien te consuele
Y te cuide.
Suerte
Si tienes quien te enseñe
Y te guíe.
Mas aun con una buena crianza
La vida te da otras enseñanzas.

Te vas moldeando
Según tus pasos
Según tus creencias
Según tus experiencias
Formas tu templo.
Dogma personal
Difícil de penetrar.

Y sigues creciendo
Te das cuenta
Que todo cuesta
Que para todo hay un trueque
Una transacción
Ya sea física o hablada.

Trazas tus metas
Y empiezas con tu tarea.
Se vuelve difícil
Mas sabes
Que si le hechas ganas ahorita
Vas a tener un final confortable.

Y en ocasiones
Te olvidas
De que parte de lo que te rodea
O los que te rodean
También forman
Parte de tu meta final.
Pero estas muy ocupado
O simplemente cansado
Y se te olvida ponerle atención.

Pasa el tiempo y vez cambios
Algunos buenos
Algunos no tanto.

Y aunque es bueno
Quitar del camino
A las piedras filosas
Hay que dejar
Crecer a las rosas
Cuidarlas
Moldearlas.

Claro, como todo
Tiene su tiempo primordial
Si en su momento
No las llenaste de amor
Si en su momento
No les pusiste atención
Tal vez cuando por fin
Traes todo para cuidarlas
Y por fin les dedicas
Tu tiempo
Y das todo de ti
Tal vez…
Tal vez
Simplemente ya no existan…

Lo puedes interpretar
Como tu familia
O como a una persona especial.
Claro que
También
Lo puedes interpretar
Como tu salud.

Cuídate
Quiérete
Amate
No te olvides
De tus seres queridos
No te olvides
De tu entorno
Pero sobre todo
No te olvides de ti.

Behind This Door

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

Behind this door
I saw a being mythical to me
With the most beautiful eyes
Baby blue
Almost blurred.

Behind this door
I felt inexplicable feelings.
Curiosity as I held this knob
Stilly I briefly opened the door
Afraid of alerting that being.
Her
Who had to see her son
As her brother.
Her
That I almost know nothing about.

Just like a legend
Unbelievable until you see.
Hidden behind this door
Afraid to scare the fairy away
Thanks to that existence
I’m able to breathe
Yet I’m nonexistent in her life.

I’m only twelve
Why?
Why is it hard to understand?
I’ve been given a great chance
To at least see her
From afar
Yet why am I so greedy…

Behind this door
I met my other self
This envious being
Of those close to her
Of those who can hug her
Of those who can be patted by her
Of those who can be praised by her
Of those who can sit next to her.

Envy
Since I don’t share any traits with her.
She’s like a royal pearl
I’m but chocolate milk.
Her wide baby blue eyes
Against my slanted hazy eyes.

Nothing seems to link me to her
That beautiful being
Only this invisible red thing
That flows in my being.

Behind this door
I was astonished
To the point of crying
I felt the hidden longing
At least a warm hug
At least to be acknowledged
At least to feel my existence.
At least…

That was my first and last
Encounter with my grandmother
Behind this door
Quietly admiring her
That fairy that can not see
But only hear
That fairy
That never knew my existence
Yet she is engraved in mine…

Dirty House

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

Is it the lack of will?
As I take part of the couch
I see the kids running
Screaming
Throwing legos around.

My head throbs
Poisonous cheers
Thorns prickling
My already wounded mind.
Bombs echoing my soul.

I take a look outside
The palms dance
With the beat of the wind.
Like two lovers embracing
Acknowledging each other’s presence.
Bodies entangled
And moving with ease
Circling with poise
What a beautiful sight.
My heart aches
Don’t know yet
If it’s by the lovely sight
Or the rumbling inside.

Teachers bleed their knowledge
I tell my kids “eyes on-screen.”
After a while
They get annoyed
And start hacking the system.
Two screens are shown
One with the teacher
The other
A youtuber it seems.

They forget
I know they do
So I become
That security guard
That unpleasant person
That keeps them on a leash.
I try my best to block
Their indifference
Sometimes
To the point of defiance.
My throat hurts
My heart aches
I block my tears.
They seem startled
For the moment
And back down temporarily.

I see my house being unattended
I keep feeling the urge
Yet they keep looking for an opportunity.
So I sit in this lousy couch
Like a watcher
Feeling insecure
Feeling the pressure
Trying to stop
Screams of joy
So the scholars pay attention.

This feeling of loneliness
This feeling…

I avert my gaze to the window
Once again
I see
Those dancing partners
I’m starting to envy them
Such lovely freedom.

I guess it’s finally getting me

This isolation

This impotence when it comes
To the school’s electronic devices.

The attention I give
To three different grade levels.

At the same time making
Food for them.

Trying to stop words
Coming out from their mouths
I have never said
In front of them.

All thanks to youtube
Thanks to the lack of admins permission
On the school’s electronic device.

Then again
grateful for this device
During these troubling times.

The pressure of them
Making a B or better.

It’s all scrambled eggs
Including the eggshells
They keep hurting
every time I chew and swallow.

I guess
Just like a dirty house
That needs to be cleaned
My soul
Also needs to be cleansed.

Words From Within

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

I wouldn’t say
It’s a poem per say
It’s an out cry
From inside
Bleeding lines
Looking for a healing tonic
To induce an unfinished scar
While praying this pain
Is but another past
Another world
I can cast aside
Another reality
Written in paper
With this humble hand
Deliberating
If I should also
give it breath
Or just burn it
As if a secret mission
Never to be known.

Raw honey
That smoothens
My rough throat
Untying this knot
Giving reign
To this voice
To this pen
To this written page.

Glass like tears
Melted
Purified water
To be drank again
And again
Until others knots
Are untied as well.

Raw words
Not beautified
Just outlined
A beginning to an end
And end to begin
That is all…

En Silencio

Sueños inundados
Amor expresado en caricias
Acaramelados

Cual sinfonía
Flotando a la deriva
A un mundo de fantasia.

Palabras silenciosas
Entre besos apasionados
Dedos entrelazados
Calor contra calor
Asfixia inesperada
Destellos de Luna
Empapados en placer.

Tal así
como en papel
Palpitaciones resonantes
Uno…
Dos…

Sigue
El silencio
interrumpido
De dos enamorados
Deseos corporales
Obsesión incontrolable
“Mía de nadie mas!”

Melodías explosivas
Navegadas entre estrellas
Éxtasis infinita
Labios carnosos
Y deliciosos.

Mientras de lejos
Este silencio interpretable
Admira tu semblante
Y todo es simple fantasia…

Is This Really Goodbye?

What exactly am I looking for
In those crispy eyes?
A bit of your soul?
A reflection of my own?
But all I see is
Emptiness
Disgust
Not even
a hint of remorse..

And I…
I gave you
Everything
My time
My mind
My heart
I gave you my all
Without contemplating
My soul.

Yet all I see
Are those crispy eyes.
Not even a smile
Just an empty carcass
No love, no sentiment
Nothing
Is this really goodbye?

History In My Eyes

Life is but a book
The writer is but a politician
History is repeated
Just like any other book
The difference
Is the writer
The politician behind the pen
The plot is always the same
Sometimes well outlined
Sometimes lazy pillars
Either way
They both collapse 
In the reader’s eyes
Either at the middle
Or the end
But it’s always the same.
I see sickness of the mind
In these troubling times
I’ve seen how people
Get greedy with opportunities
I’ve seen a lousy storyteller
Light the last firework
To incite violence
And distract
The local readers. 

A mere copycat
Trying to rewrite
History’s thorn past.
Lost souls
In flames
In despair
Segregated
Malnourished
Hunger of hatred
Is what he seeks
Filming second-rate movies
For the world to see
Idiocracy at its full. 

And yet
I can’t seem to understand
The ignorant
I still can’t understand
The greedy
Much less
The influence
Of a mere liar. 

Is it sweet
yet stupid whisper?
Is a movie maker
More important
Than a leader?
Is a barricaded coward better
Than peaceful confrontation? 

Wake up America!
Terrorism is within
Is covered in fur
Doesn’t matter the softness
It was still teared from the prey!
Don’t shut your eyes
Don’t cover your ears
Don’t be distracted by lies
Don’t lose yourself in the fog.
Don’t
Please just don’t…

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