BETWEEN LOVE & OTRAS CHINGADERAS
… is a collection of prose, poems and short stories. The product of the past five years—from the green mountains of Chiapas, Mexico to the dusty streets of (Tabarre) Port-Au-Prince and the irreverence that the Spirit of God has planted in his heart—put into the limits of words. Love, just as the iconic Mexican word, chigadera, is versatile, creative, life giving. The life that emanates out of love makes you radically unapologetic, irrational as to the healing power that it brings. Hence, the binary of life is undomesticated love, tenderness in private and justice in the public realm.
… is a collection of prose, poems and short stories. The product of the past five years—from the green mountains of Chiapas, Mexico to the dusty streets of (Tabarre) Port-Au-Prince and the irreverence that the Spirit of God has planted in his heart—put into the limits of words. Love, just as the iconic Mexican word, chigadera, is versatile, creative, life giving. The life that emanates out of love makes you radically unapologetic, irrational as to the healing power that it brings. Hence, the binary of life is undomesticated love, tenderness in private and justice in the public realm.
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MELANCHOLY<br />
Mama said, from now on you are the man.<br />
Daddy is gone, and you are in charge.<br />
For the last time she kissed the grave.<br />
I nodded and picked up my marvels and walked home with<br />
her.<br />
I held on to her hand, the world is so big and the journey<br />
home is a mile long.<br />
Tears were falling off her cheeks.<br />
As the man that I now was I held her hand close to my face.<br />
I wish I could of taken the pain away.<br />
All I could do is look at her in the eyes and smile.<br />
The world is so big and the journey home is a mile long.<br />
Nights and days, moons and stars, seasons and years went<br />
by.<br />
I continue to hold her hand. I can now kiss her white hair.<br />
I dread the day in which I will stand and see her being<br />
lowered down<br />
And the last shovel of dirt is thrown on the pile.<br />
I don’t want to feel the void, the world is so big and the<br />
journey home is a mile long.<br />
If I could only live the now, make her happy and have no<br />
more regrets.<br />
If I could be the happy child, the content son, the man<br />
without melancholy in his eyes.<br />
If I could only be her true pride, the strong rock, the fortress<br />
from her fears.<br />
The world would no longer seem so big and the journey<br />
home would only be a short mile long.<br />
I cannot redo what I have done! I cannot re-live the past!<br />
I cannot be what I was never taught to become!<br />
I must confront the world with my fears’ might!<br />
I must walk the journey being led by the wisdom of my<br />
flaws.<br />
Thou shall not fear my child, Thou shall not fear,<br />
Says the voice within my inner silence,<br />
The world is big but the journey Home is lifetime long!
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