laborreguita

elizabeth. mixed race. queer. seattle fatty living the post undergrad lifestyle.

Sandra Cisneros “Dulzura” (via soandeesays)

(vía ajuliettetlalli)

Make love to me in Spanish.
Not with that other tongue
I want you
juntito a mi
tender like the language
crooned to babies
I want to be that
lullabied,
mi bien
querido
that loved

I want you inside
the mouth of my heart,
inside the harp of my wrists,
the sweet meat of the mango,
in the gold that dangles
from my ears and neck.

Say my name. Say it.
The way it’s supposed to be said.
I want to know that I knew you
even before I knew you.

nomellamoliz:

pul-chra:

A “controversial” poem by Kai Davis that most educated people of color can relate to.

so goooood. @hurricanekate

(vía nomellamoliz-deactivated2011100)

mynameislibre:

thatblckgrl:

theafrosistuh:keekeers:somekindawndrful1:cocoabutterandbiscuits:sharvondaphotog:Kai’s

“controversial” poem. This topic I can definitely relate to as someone who was told in high school that I “act white” because I got straight A’s, and in college, “I thought you were stupid until you spoke” because I’m black. (Had to compress it all crazy to get it to upload to Tumblr. It had to be removed from “other outlets” due to verbal content. But what happens on Tumblr, stays on Tumblr.) … ;-) 

*Too dope

OMG *STANDS THE FUCK UP* SNAPS MAMA!!!!!!!!!!

(vía querida-guerrilla)

thepalestineyoudontknow:

*start at the 3:30 min for the English translation. This poem is really famous in Arab counties, it was written by the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish.


Record! 
I am an Arab 
And my identity card number is fifty thousand 
I have eight children 
And the ninth will come after a summer 
Will you be angry? 

  
Record!
I am an Arab 
Employed with fellow workers at a quarry 
I have eight children
I get them bread 
Garments and books 
from the rocks.. 
I do not supplicate charity at your doors 
Nor do I belittle myself at the footsteps of your chamber 
So will you be angry? 

Record! 
I am an Arab 
I have a name without a title 
Patient in a country 
Where people are enraged 
My roots 
Were entrenched before the birth of time 
And before the opening of the eras 
Before the pines, and the olive trees
And before the grass grew. 
My father descends from the family of the plow 
Not from a privileged class 
And my grandfather was a farmer 
Neither well-bred, nor well-born! 
Teaches me the pride of the sun 
Before teaching me how to read 
And my house is like a watchman’s hut 
Made of branches and cane 
Are you satisfied with my status? 
I have a name without a title! 


Record! 
I am an Arab 
You have stolen the orchards of my ancestors 
And the land which I cultivated 
Along with my children 
And you left nothing for us 
Except for these rocks.. 
So will the State take them 
As it has been said?! 


Therefore! 
Write down on the top of the first page: 
I do not hate people 
Nor do I encroach 
But if I become hungry 
The usurper’s flesh will be my food 
Beware.. 
Beware.. 
Of my hunger 
And my anger!

Record!
I am an Arab
And my identity card is number fifty thousand
I have eight children
And the ninth is coming after a summer
Will you be angry?

Record!
I am an Arab
Employed with fellow workers at a quarry
I have eight children
I get them bread
Garments and books
from the rocks…
I do not supplicate charity at your doors
Nor do I belittle myself
at the footsteps of your chamber
So will you be angry?

Record!
I am an Arab
I have a name without a title
Patient in a country
Where people are enraged
My roots
Were entrenched before the birth of time
And before the opening of the eras
Before the pines, and the olive trees
And before the grass grew.

My father descends from the family of the plow
Not from a privileged class
And my grandfather was a farmer
Neither well-bred, nor well-born!
Teaches me the pride of the sun
Before teaching me how to read
And my house
is like a watchman’s hut
Made of branches and cane
Are you satisfied with my status?
I have a name without a title!

Record!
I am an Arab
You have stolen the orchards
of my ancestors
And the land
which I cultivated
Along with my children
And you left nothing for us
Except for these rocks..
So will the State take them
As it has been said?!

Therefore!
Record on the top of the first page:
I do not hate people
Nor do I encroach
But if I become hungry
The usurper’s flesh will be my food
Beware..
Beware..
Of my hunger
And my anger!

(vía haralambros)

fatgirlposing:

Full Figured Potential (a fat girl’s blues)

Soneto XVII, Pablo Neruda (via eggplantavenger)

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

Ni una más: "Poet Who Fought Femicide in Juarez Becomes Latest Victim" →

bluecordoruymoth:

I have been researching quite a bit about the Juarez femicides lately, and I came across this article a little while ago that made me quite sad.  Anyways, this is my poem for Susana Chávez, not sure how I feel about it, but I just wanted to put it out there.  She did a lot of poetry on her blog, so I guess it just feels right for me to post it here.

Under the Harvest Moon

Yes, collect them women,
them women, them women.
Pull ‘em down and load ‘em up,
shoot ‘em up and lay their bodies
    down, down, down.
Gotta pick them while they’re ripe,
gotta pick them when the time is right.
Spread ‘em out, let ‘em sit,
peel ‘em while their skin’s still thin.
Leave the core and leave the stem,
have a taste of that sweet, sweet flesh.
Slice ‘em, dice ‘em, bake ‘em in a pie.
All they need is a little sugar,
a little extra sugar, if they ain’t so sweet.


(Fuente: bluestockingmoth, vía tofuboots)

Madre patria, mi tierra

corigami:

trying to find you,

mi tierra

wandering 

wandering

wandering

should be, want to be, will be, can’t be, can’t not be, used to be, ser.

en busca de mi centro

mi tierra 

mi tierra

cuando voy a encontrar?

(Fuente: tierracita)

queerpeopleofcolorspeakOUT!: Josfinia Renia-Morales de Echeverria →

qpocspeakout:



as per latino (a)
tradición
what is written
is written
about men.

I know she
had ten bebes
lost six
and carried herself straight y mortena
in la pictura

she somehow lived
to be old
buried most of su familia

maybe hated Lenin
for what his ideology
did with her familia

maybe loved Che
for…

1st submission to my new zine project!

(Fuente: )

I, Too, Sing America by Langston Hughes

ladydaysoul:

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

(vía black-culture)

OPEN CALL FOR AN ANTHOLOGY OF TRANS & GENDERQUEER POETRY →

nueva-bordena:

poisonpassion80:

What is the project: We are creating an anthology.  An anthology of the
best poems out there by trans and genderqueer writers and we would love to
include your work in the book. Our assumption is that the writing of trans
and genderqueer folks has something more than coincidence in common with the experimental, the radical, and the innovative in poetry and poetics (as we
idiosyncratically define these categories), and with your help we’d like to
manifest that something (or somethings) in  a genderqueer multipoetics, a
critical mass of trans fabulousness.

This anthology is edited by TC Tolbert and Tim Peterson (Trace)—both
trans-identified poets. It will be published by EOAGH Books in early 2012,
and you can bet it will be widely distributed!

Deadline for Submissions: Nov 30, 2011

What to Submit: 7-10 pages of poetry, and a prose “poetics” statement (see below)

Where to Submit: email us at transanthology@gmail.com

Why is this anthology important: While trans and genderqueer poets have
existed for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, there has never been a
collection of poetry exclusively by trans and genderqueer writers that also
highlights a diverse range of poetics and other marginalized identities.  Each
particular understanding of self and gender creates an essentially complex
and rich multipoetics that undermines any sort of universal trans aesthetic.
Inherently multi-vocal and anti-hegemonic, a singular trans experience
simply does not exist and, frankly, we don’t want it to.  For this reason,
an anthology is the most conducive venue for undoing any attempted
whitewashing and/or homogenizing of an imagined trans voice.  As we said, we want your words.  The words, syntax, perspective, lyric, narrative, image
(or the disruption of any of these) that could actually only come from you.

What kind of writing are we looking for:  This anthology seeks writing
that makes us wet our panties a little bit and wonder what the f* have we
been doing with our lives all this time.  While this project exists in a
historical context of several important anthologies that gather marginalized
and under-represented writers (This Bridge Called My Back, No More Masks, The Open Boat, The World in Us, etc), this will be the first anthology to foreground the poetic writings of trans and genderqueer authors.  The book will feature 7-10 pages of work from approximately 35 poets and we hope you will be one of them!

A meta-layer of fabulous: One thing that makes this anthology unique is
that it will include a statement on poetics by each participant, along
with your poems. This is a chance for you to tell us something about your
writing process, writing practice, theory of life, or whatever you like. It
might include the relationship of the body and text, or the practice of
reading and misreading text and the body, or locations, connections, and
divisions of the self amongst text and the self amongst other bodies or…you
get the point.

Hello!  I know what my next writing project is.

(vía desert-gurl)

Fabiola Romero: Boi-ness →

fabiolaromero:

Marimacho

pretty boi

androgynous

as a child

gay was hidden like the mismatched nails in the utility drawer

a bad word to spew towards the lowest of lows

people who broke trust

people who hurt us

and I heard the word shoot out like ametralladora

a machine gun loaded with the deadliest…

(vía fabianromero2013-deactivated201)

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