Posts filed under 'Creative Writing/ Palabra Libre'
2:19
It took you two hours-and-nineteen minutes
to get all dolled up
30 in the shower
An hour on the hair & make-up
and the rest on those small details that, on occasions like this, make a world of difference
Pedicured toes and all
2 hours-and-19 minutes
Eyeshadow in place, mascara on the lashes
Hair stunning, and did I mention, without any frizz?
A dab of pink on those luscious lips
Skinny jeans on those hips
You was sure to get his attention looking this way
No way jose, he was not going to think,
“Man, should’ve stayed with her”
You were early to church
Gave you time to calculate
Just where you were going to sit
Not too close to the casket
But not too far from him
Sure the father’s dead
The man is losing his head
But, hey, it’s no excuse
Why not have a rendezvous?
I don’t matter anyway
I never did, in the first place
You never liked me, either way
Standing at that church
Watching you prowling for your next move
Thought about how long
All that glitz and glamour took you
You looked stunning that day
Yet your best work doesn’t compare
To my lousiest of days
Your swaying hips
are no contest
to my natural curves
Glossy lips
don’t compare
To my sun-kissed face
Your latest hair-do, with no frizz
although trendy, was a miss
When you compared it to my locks
Straight and shiny with no fuzz
2 hours-and-19 minutes
Head-to-toe glamour
Thought you looked tasty like honey
Yet your best work doesn’t compare
to my lousiest of days
That cake on your face, that you like to call make-up
May have caught his eye
And yet compared to my barren face–
It’s simply
A disgrace
What you didn’t plan out, sweet-stunning-thing
Sexiest-thing-funeral-has-ever-seen
What you fail to realize
and probably will never know
Is that
While make-up may do wonders
It doesn’t cover souls
And your dying-low-life, blood-sucking, funeral-hounding
love-snatcher-soul…
Reeked a mile away
Add comment November 9, 2007
El o las alas/ He or the wings
He— the only man that came to her mind while putting on her guaraches she bought long ago in a guarache shop in San Juan de Dios; while driving to and from work through those familiar streets which she now drove through almost unconsciously (as it often happens with things that become mundane); he came to her at random times and moments. But most importantly, he came to her when no one else did.
Add comment January 4, 2006
Hands up high/ manos arriba
He
placed his hands up high
and, like a little girl, she couldn’t reach
he said they were there to protect her
she believed
and then one day
the sun no longer shined through them
He
didn’t mean to cut her off
didn’t mean to holler back
and yet she couldn’t speak
and when she did she had to scream
to be heard
only then it was too late
Add comment March 30, 2005
