I remember when poets were messengers of vision and information, not always positive, but always providing us a mirror to see clearly and get us to move forward… but now, all I see are evil spirits, rappers, and self-made entertainers passing as poets, penetrating their spells on you, and continuing to keep you inside the box.  

They tell you how oppressed we are and how we need to fight the oppressor, and how down we are, and how down other people of color are….

But they never provide you answers to solutions or visions that will show you the light or guide you to your personal journey on this planet.

I don’t have all the answers, but I will try to remove some of the layers of bricks between us and see if I can leave you with some clues to your confinement inside the Box.

You should be happy to know that the box has no locks or chains. It is completely opened and you can walk or jump out any time your heart desires, and become the person you were born to be…the person you are supposed to be…..

You can do and be anything you want to be, just forward your dreams and aspirations into your hands and activate an action forward. Like the Congressman Adam Clayton Powell once said:

“What’s in your hands?”

“What’s in your hands?”

Anyway, after 60 plus years on this planet, the least you can do is listen to my crazy poems, full of people not able to get out the box, hit hard by not learning or applying the secrets of having balance in their lives, and consequently, were destroyed by self-conflict, lack of proper health, and lack of emotional control.

The following poems are about you and me, our family and friends, especially those that are in the box, manipulated into the box by invisible but strong forces, like our local community leaders, our so-called elected officials, our rapper poets, M-TV, Television, which I call the idiot box, especially when we watch too much of it…

Listen to these poetic stories:

Poetic Story #1: Borinquen

Doña Rivera, The one everybody comes to when

They run into unresolved situations

Was sold the Moon yesterday

She was very happy ‘cause the

Salesman gave her a break

Telling her she did not have to pay taxes on it

“It was tax free”

He told her

All her neighbors were surprised

 That she accomplished such a big thing

So they assembled and celebrated her new fortune

They decided that Doña should

Keep it a secret or else the welfare department

Would come and take the Moon away from her

Time passed and Doña Rivera became a very proud woman

At night, especially when the

Moon was bright and in full view

Doña Rivera would stay up late and admire the beauty of her new possession

On weekend nights

She would invite her relatives and best friends over to share the experience with them….

“See”

She would tell her friends and relatives

“In this country

You have the freedom to buy anything you want”

Poetic Story #2: Doña Julia

Doña Julia Committed suicide last night cause the welfare department

Demanded too many documents she did not know existed

The utilities were removed

The landlord proudly gave her eviction papers

The friendly bodega accused her of trespassing

Holding on to hope

Doña Julia visited Puerto Rican leaders with fancy titles

Promising her things that never arrived

Doña Julia

Always made it a point to vote with the democrats,

The party of the poor, she used to say…

Doña Julia

Committed suicide last night because life was angry with her

Revealed to her by the spirits…

That is what she said…

And the people that didn’t know her

always found things to say about her….

With fancy titles

Her daughter Evelyn disappeared with this dude named Hector who promised her every thing he didn’t have

And her son Josè

Who dropped out of school at the age of 10

Always took money from Doña Julia

To pay his expenses and other things for the dead head

He too disappeared looking for his friends who were never around when he didn’t have anything

Doña Julia

Committed suicide cause life was angry with her

Her dead face had a smile that police officers did not understand

Someone that did not know how to read found a note and flushed it down the toilet thinking it had something

To do with the numbers

The note said something about

“One way or the other

I’m going back to Puerto Rico.”

Poetic Story #3:  Maria’ Journey

She was sitting there

The lonely traffic passing by

Thinking of yesterday when Mommy

Used to cry in protest

The warm air freezing her body

Listening to broken down voices of edited confusion

Subway rides traveling to nowhere

The wino on the corner learning to read

The New York Times

The polluted smell of everything hanging around her body

Thinking of yesterday when Fernando told her

“If you love me – you have to prove it”

She was sitting there

Hating the endless hours of the night

Those that passed looked at her with inviting eyes

That wanted to come out after her

Black and Puerto Rican kids playing Cowboys and Indians

After dark in the backyard streets

Where all of them

The Rats, the Dogs, the Cats, and the Pushers

Hold their daily meetings

She was sitting there

Hating herself for accepting a defeat that loved her

The lonely traffic passing by

Bars and liquor stores on every corner conditioning the younger victims

While the drug dealers count their money of death

Thinking of yesterday

Her trip from Puerto Rico and her first introduction

To the New York cold that ravaged her body

Sitting there

Thinking of yesterday when Freddie played her wrong

Accusing her of being a Puta for no reason at all

He is now happily married to a girl

From Queens who makes love to the dog next door

Thinking of yesterday

The dances, the parties, and the James Bond movies

She loved so much

And now

Waiting for the overdose of everything to take effect…

Poetic Story #4:  Letter for Iris

It was long ago yesterday

The oldies, the gangs, the wine

Trying to find definitions to everything

Everyone refusing to speak Spanish

Stupid heavy accents

Keeping our welfare secrets to ourselves

You didn’t reveal anything until years later

It was long ago yesterday

The oldies, the gangs, the wine

Going to sets during school hours

Drinking that terrible wine that you disliked so much

And the Ricans and Dominicans from downtown

Rapping to you behind my back

The Latin Knights against the Young Lovers

The Sinners against the Viceroys

The Dragons against the Assassins

Jitterbugging into oblivion

Willie a junkie on Columbus Avenue

Eddie a homo on 72^nd Street

Carlos a revolutionary at Attica

Sara a community leader in Washington Heights

Jose a capitalist on Wall Street

Mimi a housewife in Puerto Rico

Carmen a Puta in the South Bronx

And Miguel

Demonstrating in front of the United Nations

With fifty buttons on his jacket

It was long ago yesterday

The oldies, the gangs, the wine

Remembering those wonderful nightmares

The playground, the backyard, the roof

The fire hydrant, the basement, and those

Silent trips to the park where we made

The plans that never came

I leave you now

The oldies, the gangs, the wine

Hoping you found your definitions without regrets

I only found new inventions of ignorance by many

Refusing to open the path to their growth and development

Poetic Story #5: Suicide of a Puerto Rican Jibaro (In Mainland Buffalo)

They didn’t understand.

They were all Americans now

He would smile sometimes

Thinking about his youth in Ponce

Carmen, Rosa, Teresa and Liza

Holding on to dreams

That helped him stay alive

The tropical music that was killed

By the new sound of “salsa”

But they didn’t understand

His children didn’t understand

A million times his body was raped

By the unfriendly cold

The farm he sacrificed

To pursue the American Dream

Trying to buy some dignity in the trade

Of the unemployment office

Shoveling the snow that invaded

His tropical existence

He would walk up Virginia Street

And down Hudson Street

Searching

For some clues of understanding

But

Only

Found

New inventions of nightmares

That wanted to destroy his dreams

The dead dreams

That helped him stay alive

Were too weak

For the American nightmare

They didn’t understand

They were

All Americans now

Poetic Story #6: Milagros – A Love Story

When she was born
her mother named her Milagros.
Her father was never around.
The neighbors said she was beautiful
but it was sad that her hair was a little kinky.
When she was fifteen years old,
she had dreams to go after.
When she was seventeen,
she dropped out of school
’cause it was the groovy thing to do.
When she was almost eighteen
she opened her legs to Papo — who told her he loved her
The night after, he told her to get the hell away.
When she was almost eighteen
she was cool, she partied, she smoked
and got down a few times
hoping someone would tell her
‘I love you’ — and means it
but time passed (and no one ever did).
When she was nineteen
she had five abortions.
When she was nineteen
she was cool, she was beautiful
selling her wasted body on forty-second street
to buy American dreams
hating the ugly smell of polluted breath
and old men telling her:
‘I love you, you Spanish girl.’

And last but not least, a poem, a pledge to help us become magical and powerful, able to become what we are supposed to become, based on what we want to do with our journey in life. If you can buy into this pledge, at least introduce it to our students, and to our young kids so they can begin to understand at an early age the concept of setting goals, and understanding the essence of an education, and finally, understanding the system of values and standards.

Poetic Story #7:  An Educational Pledge

I pledge to maintain a healthy Mind and Body

Staying away from the Vice of drugs

I pledge always to try my Best to understand

The importance of Knowledge and Education

I pledge to paint a Positive picture of where I plan to be in the future

Not allowing obstacles to stop the growth of my Plans

I pledge to seek Answers to Questions,

With the understanding that they

Will lead to other discoveries

I pledge to work Firm

With the Awareness and Confidence

That firm work today will serve

As the Seeds for my strong Tree tomorrow

A Tree that no one will be able to tear down

I pledge to learn proper languages

Beginning with my Mother’s

Always prepared to appreciate others

I pledge to gain a better understanding of me

By understanding my Cultural roots

I pledge to fully accept me as a human being

A Rainbow of many cultures and colors

I pledge to overcome any Personal misfortunes

Becoming Stronger from such misfortunes

Always striving to become

A wise person…

——–

May the Pledge be with you!