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…

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.

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…

Dragoness

By Rosalva Ruiz SuperNova

There is a legend
That only a few know
About this mysterious woman
Who’s face is still unknown
Yet her feats
Are recorded
In the Odd family scroll. 

A chivera from la frontera
Who passed from electronics
Food 
And some other tonteras. 

The one and only wedding aide
Who didn’t give access
To this celebrity fave
For the simple reason
That Fito Olivares was not written
In that page
Of course
Who would have known
That Rodolfo Olivares
Was his real name
A VIP guest
At least
that’s what’s written there. 

And well the list goes on
Array with beats
And souls that begin to flow.
That was her last job as such
That is for sure. 

Now let’s not forget
Of the many recorded
Falls from filming
“The one in a lifetime events”
Such as the time of that wedding
Where the bride’s arm
Suddenly arose
Trying to hold
something in the air
Their lips
As well as their eyes
Saying “Oh no!”
Then a white ceiling
Of the church
Came into view… 

This other time
Where instead of a white ceiling
It was the face of Jesus
With his arms wide open
Kind of saying pobrecita
Ahi va de nuevo otra caida… 

But
Fret not
That gave her the best idea
Pictures taken from the floor
She’s got quite a few
Of those.
The kiss in the air
From the groom and his bride
The funny faces from friends
And quinceañeras
Enjoying their time. 

The groom leaning
The dazed eyes
Anticipating a love song
And the fallen bow
Giving the perfect
Memory for years to come. 

While in the cloud
Makes one remember
That this woman
Is a dragoness in disguise
When the time comes by.
A whisperer of love
When the need is more.
A clown in the cloud
When the kids are around.
And last but not least
A cast speller
In an invisible town
When she holds
Her feathered pen
And writes in the air.

Eli, Paco y Seb 2

Paco

He’s a bit of a parrot
Hence me calling him
Paco Pacorro is a given.
He’ll be a great politician
There is only white or black with him
Either you go to the right
Or the left
There is no in-between.
He is what we call
“Gente de raza”
In other words
He is from the hood
He may be 5
But sometimes
It feels like
He is 15
One either adores him
Or hates him.

But the core of it all
He is humble
And although sometimes
He looks like a troublemaker
He’ll stand for what’s right.

This is the introduction of the 5-year-old.

A few days ago
Seb, the 3-year-old
Came running from his room
And as soon as he saw Paco.


He stopped and practically commanded
With a playful voice,
“Paacooo, open your moudth and say aaahh!!

Paco who was playing with legos
Looked at him and followed along, “Aaaaahhh.”

Seb started laughing and saying, “haha you missing a toodth! Hahaha”

Paco turn his head towards me and shouted,
“Mooommm, tell him to stooopp!”

I just couldn’t stop laughing
I wasn’t expecting that.
It was hard to stop laughing
And be showing anger…

Shut Eyes

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

I guess I knew
But I shut my eyes
I’ve imagined every excuse
You could think of
But never the color
Never the heritage
Never the roots of it all.

Thinking back
There was a time
When I lived at a small town
I was but seven
And fascinated with magic
Funny enough
A family of five
Came into town.

They were witches
The grownups said
They might put a spell on ya
They said and with that
Voiced barriers were made.

But I wanted to learn magic
Due to circumstances
I wanted to cast a spell
And protect myself.
I wanted to be invisible
To the masked people.
So either I died trying
Or never be able to.

And yes
A magic spell was cast
“Friendship”
The most beautiful there was.
I learned so many things
But never magic.
Sometimes
I was invisible to some people
Since they thought
I was stained
Which didn’t really matter
Since I was having other
Much more troubling affairs
At that time.

I once asked them
Why is everyone saying
You all are witches and yet
You all don’t know any magic?
Antonio’s mom answered
With a pained smile
“Well, it just came to be that way.”
I couldn’t understand why
She answered that way.

In fact I couldn’t understand
How his dad was always
Looking for a job
He often was fired
After a week or two of getting hired.

He was a loving father
He never drank
I never saw him raise his voice
He could do just about anything.
In my eyes, he was such a good guy
I just couldn’t understand it.

After a year
They left town
I never saw them again.

I didn’t get it back then
They were having a hard time coping
Getting acknowledged despite their looks
They barely had money for food
Yet they always invited me
To whatever they had in the table.

Why was I so naive back then?
Why didn’t I see the injustice?
Why did I shut my eyes?

Resilience by Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

I finally understood
What my mom said
Back in the day…

“To be in the light
But with sight in the dark.”

Politics
Is a nasty place to get sick.
While my heart was in a storm
The so called friends
Who I haven’t heard from
Since long ago
Started knocking at my door.
Although with smiles and concerns
They were asking for my kin
The knives on their backs
Were visible enough…

“To leave a good impression”

With a composed face
And a tender smile
I said
“thanks, everything is fine.”
Always cry in the dark
Unless
there is no other choice…

“To save all your contacts”

Hospitals were in full capacity
The ambulance was driving
without destination.
Netting
For a simple bed and a machine
We were in search.
What a simple task
But what a big deal to catch.

“To think ahead, just in case.”
According to the numbers,
It had to be outside our state
the closest
Was to the west.

A call to the ambulance
To state our decision
To the west is our quest.
With extreme precautions.
Also
“We are running out of time”
They said…
We were in despair.

After a few calls
Finally! we have a bed
A machine as well
There was no time to spare.

We were all in different places
Through WhatsApp
We were connected.
Hearing
Even with his short breath
His last words
Were grand…
For us to take care
That exposing himself
For others to stay safe
He would gladly do it again.
For us to not let any dispute
Get between us
To be closer
And live to the fullest
And lastly
That he loves us
And if God wants it
He will follow…
We broke in tears.

While saying he is fine
To the butchers
In our shut doors
We prayed for his recovery
We made promises
To La Virgencita.

Now
It seems funny
How things come in bundles
After eight long days
Of being in dismay
Hanna came to play.
Although the damage was minimal
At my place
Flooded halls
Were at the hospital.
Afraid we were
And the hyenas
Were at full swing
Messages, phone calls
They were driving me insane
Anxiety crept in my heart.

The power was on
And that he was still alive
At least
That we knew
But nothing more…

After the 12th day
We received a message
A hoarse voice
Saying
“Que hubooo? Como andaaan?”
I squeezed my cellphone
And burst in tears of joy.

I thought it was over
I thought that was it
But the wolves were hunting
They wanted their prey.
An ambulance came out
A two hours way
A wreck was on the way…
Another car was on the back
And my kin was finally safe…

This, I also learned
To never forget
Smiling faces
aren’t always friends.

Resilience…
Human kind is bound to be resilient…

Forbidden Path

A Forbidden path
She took in her past

A drunken dog
Is barking at her door
After not finding the keyhole
Howling
came from the freaking wolf.

Pity
the neighbors felt
After a few months of separation
An empty house
Is now making noise
He is now outside his home
While the girl
Doesn’t open her door

But they don’t know
Today was a day of reconciliation
He is celebrating, I suppose…

But not for her
Today was the first day
Of their last chance.

Today marked their reunion
Today was a new beginning
Forgetting his past adventures
His grotesque words
Even his lack of responsibility.

She tried not to step
On the forbidden path.
She did her best
To be against all odds.

Her aunts, her friends
They all were against divorce.
That forbidden path
Too uncanny for this girl.

She’s portrayed as cold blooded
With almost no loving.
House wrecker
And soul sucking…

As for her
A darken veil of hypocrisy
Is all she sees
Hatred for the adventurer
Disappointment from the sweet talker.

Divroce is all she thinks
Forbiden path it appears
She doesn’t care
Loosing all kinds of friends
Freedom is what she seeks
Peace away from that mess.

She opens that door
While carrying her son
With a suitcase on her back
Today was the last chance
This is goodbye
Carry on forbidden path.

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