Thursday, April 12, 2012

Could I ever be sacred ?

Could I ever be sacred?

Like an extremely decorated to worship idol
That gets clean every day
And on their knees have faith in me
With two or three songs about me
A holiday named after me
 And a mandatory purple dress to see me

What where we running from?

The mess I’ve gotten into
My body drags the pain
I’m out of home and lost
This circle never stops
We crash into no wake up calls
Sometimes missing
The whole point of this experience
What where we running from?

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Cut me into ugly conclusions

 I remember showing up
 Holding hands and all of that
Our crucial sympathy for our deadly ways
Swirling regret echoes on an open space
One time reflected both lines of airlines
And now to the only eyes that matter I am a ghost
I smile less and less
But at least in this space I’m everywhere
If all of this would have a purpose like gravity
Maybe my feelings might grow back again
But for now
I am a slave to distant smiles
And all you feel is that awful rush 

Friday, March 30, 2012

The Molester

   The molester was always trying to intimidate the kids, which were already deaf from all the screaming this type of environment creates. The molester was a forty year old man that used to be an ex soccer player for some second division team.
Trying to talk to him was so complicated cause he would just push you away and mumble something like “ get out of here already “. It didn’t matter if it was his wife, kids, grandkids, or friends.
At this point in his life he was living at the family house. A three-story house where the grandkids played at the backyard, the two sons had their own rooms and the wife and the molester shared the main bedroom. Everything in his life was negative. His garden was unfertile, slowly everything was deteriorating and looking damaged and uncared, everything was crumbling on top of him and everybody knew except him.
The kids used to jump rope by the backyard , he would usually just shout “stop making noise “ , but more often he would come to the backyard. The two kids would say, “ are you going to play with us today grandpa?” he would reply “ yes but its going to be a different game “. First he would let them jump the rope a couple of times, then he would lift the rope so the kid would fall. “ Get up already life is difficult and you have to learn that it’s not all fun and games “
The kid would get up in tears and a little bruised. He told the other girl Mary, his other granddaughter, to jump the rope too.” I don’t want to grandpa “ Mary said. “I’m not asking you its and order”.
At school the girls were very shy and had a dark aura around them, because nothing beautiful can grow up in an environment like that one. By carrying their grandfather’s madness on their shoulders without knowing it they were creating a prison that would hold them hostage for the rest of their lives.
At home it was calm and chaotic, it all depended if the molester was close by. If he was in his room it was usually calm except for his constant enjoyment of denigrating his wife, which he would scream at the top of his lungs “ you cant even match my socks, you cant even iron my shirts properly, you are not a woman, and that’s why you are a terrible mother and lover “.
Their two sons would work most of the day so they wouldn’t hear or see the molester but they knew, besides all the neighbors, the only ones who would see and hear everything were the two granddaughters.
Before the first granddaughter was born, there was a reception and a wedding. The oldest son was getting married so both families were present. It was in an old Peruvian cathedral. Since the bride was taking her time and the groom couldn’t see her before the wedding cause of superstitions, the molester went up the steps of the cathedral and opened the door without knocking and found her still half undressed. The molester went in and closed the door behind him, she told him to leave. Neither the high ceilings of the old cathedral nor the walls filled with gold were ready for what was about to happen. She kept shouting at him “ get out, I knew you were a fucking pervert”. He was oblivious to her words; he just kept coming closer to her. Right before he grabbed her, she spit on his face. He raped her with her wedding dress on for about eight minutes. She was crying on the floor in shock, that’s when the molester told her “now we know who the real father of your kid is going to be”. “Get up already I didn’t stain your dress, there is a wedding about to begin”.
She got up and started dressing in shock and ashamed, without knowing if she would tell her mother, father, or soon to be husband. In the back of her mind the thought that she was going to have a kid from the molester couldn’t be happening, it had to be a bad dream. She kept looking at the big old mirrors with gold on the sides, telling herself why me? Looking at the mirrors and feeling her future that she had worked so hard for was over. The mirrors reflected shame, anger, and still a face that wished this was just a bad dream.
She decided to go on with the wedding and never tell anyone what had happened that day. She stopped being so emotional and with a clear head, she thought about everything that would involve telling what had just my husband going to support me or is he going to believe I have been sleeping with him for a while? Am I going to have to raise the child with the molester if no one believes me? What about my career? Everybody is going to be talking about how I left the groom at the altar possibly and most likely for another man. Can I raise this child on my own? What am I going to tell him about who he’s father is? Can I escape this life and move far away to raise him on my own?
Finally, after all those thoughts, she grabbed her father’s arm to walk her through the aisle and to the altar. With pride her father gave her to the groom.
The wedding went on without any altercations. People were drinking, dancing, and eating. In Peru is a costume that the bride shares a dance with the father of the husband. Everybody was dancing and drinking when the molester took her by the hand and guided her to the dance floor. They danced the traditional vals without any problems. The molester kept saying to her “ now I know why my son married you “. The molester made a toast in front of everybody “ I’m happy today for this union, I wish both of you the best “. After everybody toasted and drank the champagne, he added, “ I hope that a grandchild is on the way “. Everyone laughed except the wife of course.
The molester enjoyed the pleasure of continuing denigrating the person he just molested. It was one of his trademarks to keep shoving it in their faces and also even years after the incident telling them again what he did to them. He would say it like someone tells a friend an anecdote. This gave the molester the feeling of control over the entire people he had hurt. In his mind it was like a part of them belonged to him now and forever.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Hay cosas que no se pueden perdonar

Si todo el peso de sus acciones pasadas
caeria sobre sus cafecitos y cocktails
no solo los enterraria a todos ustedes
sino que tambien
se verian los cadaveres de otras civilizaciones
y con desagrado
sus espiritus tendrian que compartir
sus tumbas con todos ustedes .

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

nobody gets you like your teddy bear

If you could feel my pain
you would be unemployed too
but tonight
I will trace the longest lines around you
I will write how much I miss you on the pavement
so even if I never see you again
you'll know how much I care

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Our Unfaithful Lust

“ He just left and its eleven at night, at least I came home “ said Rita. I’ve heard those words before in the same tone of voice but I know it’s the first time Omar has to deal with a girl like this. She was explaining to Omar’s oldest brother why what had happened yesterday night wasn’t bad at all. My friend hired the stripper for her party and he was just dancing on top of everyone its not like I saw his penis or grabbed it. The way she was trying to convince him was pathetic, with a little smile on her face and her usual flirty attitude that she displays with every men I’ve seen her talk to. I heard her and Omar had a brief fight earlier. “ You are sorry? “ after you fucked up, you say I’m sorry?” “ Now you come to me?”  Omar kept shouting at her for a while until she left. When she came back later on, Omar was just leaving and didn’t acknowledge her.
She reminds me so much of Lisa and I know to Omar too. They are both white, a little taller than me, and brunette. They both wear a dark red lipstick, the tightest jeans, shortest skirts, and show a lot of cleavage. They are both a little hyper and upbeat. It wasn’t easy for me to accept the fact that my girlfriend was a slut. I know Omar is having a tough time right now trying to believe that what happened yesterday was an isolated incident. I know it wasn’t and I can tell she is lying. Omar probably knows deep down inside that she is lying and that’s why he got so upset.
She kept on talking to Omar’s brother for a while, she kept telling stories about her friends and how bad they acted yesterday. “ Omar should be glad that I’m a change woman and I don’t act like that anymore “ It’s like her mind is oblivious to her impulses therefore all she can do is say sorry. I personally like women like her but not living with her. It feels like the guys that were having fun with her yesterday are making fun of us now too by saying “ can you imagine the guy that has to live with her?” 
Rita is the mother of a five-year-old girl. The father of the girl took her to live with him. It was sad to see her taking care of the girl or trying to take care of her, cause she obviously wasn’t about to change her life for her daughter. She would go out with her friend’s every night she wouldn’t have to work, and try to leave her baby with her mother or her tweeker brother. Sometimes when she was already high, she would start knocking on her neighbors doors and try to convince them to take care of little Ellen for a couple of hours by flirting a little with the boys or making up a story about the father of her kid being abusive towards them, of course that story was for the older women. Regardless all of her neighbors knew what was going on, but they felt so bad about her kid having to grow up in an environment where she was just an inconvenience to her mother, so they would usually agree to take care of the kid. “ Only for a couple of hours Beth I swear “ said Rita. Everybody knew she wasn’t coming back until the next day, she wasn’t fooling anybody. It wasn’t the first time they had seen an unfit mother.
“ Come on Robby, please I have to go out. Do you want me to be sick!?”
“ I cant! Shit! I have a life, I can’t take care of her like she’s my daughter”
“How about your friend?”
“Let me see”
Robby went into his room and asked Mike if he could take care of Ellen for a couple of hours.
“Maybe but what’s in it for me?”
“You know she’s broke “
“You know I like your sis, how about she spends the night with me”
“ What the fuck is wrong with you mike”
Rita was listening behind the door.
“Oh come on like she’s a saint”
That’s when Rita opened the door and told Robby to get out.
“Don’t say shit to him mike. I swear ill fucking have somebody beat your brains out”
“Chill out, you know I would never tell on you. Hey whatever you have to do to put food on the table is your business”
“Ok so are you going to help me or what?”
“ Come on Rita just an hour”
“Fuck no, forget it then”
Mike was blocking the door and wouldn’t let her open it.
“Come on just a blowjob then, we both know you aint coming until tomorrow”
Mike got his penis out, and it was already hard. With one hand he was caressing her hair and with his left hand he grabbed Rita’s hand and guided it towards his erect penis. She played along like so many times before, she started stroking it but instead of caressing her hair Mike was now pushing her head down.