@powerpoetry

A young boy walks alone with all he has in one little sack. He is far far from home but he cannot turn back... He fled violence and instability only to find a different hostility

Chicana like them

Growing up I was taught I am Mexican American...

Silently in the Back They Sit - My Passion for Awareness

Silently in the back she sits, everyday in every class, Waiting for the bell to ring like a spilling hourglass. Her name remains anonymous to all except the teacher,

ser suficiente

Shed the skin of the colonizer As if it is not also mine As if the blood coursing through me did not also pool along the legs of Malintze

Culture Told in Halves

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I discovered I was Mexican Of course, I always knew But snippets of realization Sprinkled into my lifetime of 16 years

What's Left?

"What is left?” I see you, old f(r)iend It was about time I came back again I am crawling on my knees Begging and pleading for you to love me Please, I need you My sweetest amor

The Chicanx Nightmare

Undocumented aliens, Racists see them as the enemies They’re trying to make a living for themselves, Not to mention for their families. Getting deported by I.C.E So hard to comprehend

Porcelain-Mexican

How am I supposed to look like? Tan skin, long brown hair, brown eyes that sparkle when it meets the sun? Am I supposed to smell like homemade tortillas fresh off the comal?

My mother will never be able to understand my poetry

I will never be able to write poetry that my mother understands In English, I write a flow of flowery soliloquies about my country, about my people, about her

White Mom

Thank you, Mom For the mayonnaise Plastered on me Like a filter to hide My blood Thank you, Mom For the twang

Una Lagrima Y Un Recuerdo(A Tear and a Memory)

Dona Julia Ama, I think of you everywhere I go. I feel you in everything I am.

It Always Comes Back To This

I am the dirty mexican. The imperfect among your perfect set of tools. Your artificial american. The one you take away the franchise I am the germ that cannot sanitize

Equality Isn't

Wouldn’t it be amazing if the world had equality? If we all had choices and freedom? Now I know what some of you are going to say Going to preach Going to cry We are equal But I disagree

My People

We are the epitome of pride and success Leaders in our fields-and in the fields Melanin seeps in our skin Pride runs through our veins

Dear America the Great, I Still Love Being a Latina

I am what you call a latina Just another mexican niña I am what you call a pansexual Once again another ignored label America the Great

when open doors must close

[SHE OPENS THE DOORS AS PER USUAL, LETTING IN ORANGE SUNLIGHT AND A SOFT BREEZE UNTAMED BY THE HEAT. A SMALL DRYING LEAF FLIES INTO THE STEPS, LANDS IN THE FLOOR OF THE HOUSE’S ENTRANCE. SHE KICKS IT BACK OUT.]

Corrdio- Wolves

Let me share with you a storyInvolving wolves in sheep’s clothingHidden in Google’s dark woods[1]On the lambs they keep enclosing

Soy Latina

Don't ask who I am If you really don't want to understand who I was or how significant my blood is when it does what it does I'm not speaking up or saying this for fun

latinx

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