The revolution will not be televised on gunmetal screens. Pay close attention to the sanguine liquid left behind, by the God fearing martyrs as they plan to eliminate you. We cannot be held liable if we fail to protect you. Watch as the phallic powers collapse into obscurity. Observe a society that was built to last. Be prepared to surrender your inalienable rights for The Patriot Act. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, except in the state of Arizona. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness can only be found in books our youth cannot access. It is not our fault that you cannot read. War is expensive, education, the price. Single mothers start saving up bail money. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. We are not responsible for what happens to you behind interrogation walls. Please sit quietly as we coerce you into a false confession. You are innocent, until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, except if you are Troy Davis. If we mistakenly execute you, please accept our sincerest apologies. We reserve the right to shoot first. In the event of an error, our officers will be put on desk duty. If you have been treated unfairly, you can request a hearing. Understand that it is not our duty to listen to you. Please proceed to the end of the line. Even though you have an appointment, you will be seen in the order that we decide.
©2011 Nancy Arroyo Ruffin
Category Archives: Poems
System Failure (4/30)
I remember azzure blue simplicities
before impressions and tones and presences were overlaid by memories.
Memories of innocence,
of loved ones
of high school graduations that will never take place.
Scattered remnants of those tentative
first life impressions that no longer exist.
The morning paper reports realities of murdered children
who wore hoodies and craved skittles and iced tea.
Whose only crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time,
in a state where a stand your ground defense exonerates you
no need for trial or jury
Where a mother and father will never find peace
where a family’s heart now lays deceased
where a country is left confused, outraged, and angered
at a system that has failed to provide justice.
In a country that doesn’t understand
that united we stand, divided we fall.
Because we are the 99% ,
but how can we be a force
when we’re still knocking each other down
still falling into and acting like the stereotypes
they portray us to be.
Drunk with ignorance,
we are raising a nation of followers
a nation of youth
who are more concerned
with social networks than social studies
I remember azzure blue simplicities
before impressions and tones and presences were overlaid by memories.
Scattered remnants of those tentative
first life impressions that no longer exist.
Like this:
She Is History (3/30)
She is a living record
of what can’t be found in history books
Diluted sheets can never capture
the layers of life that she wears
on her face like armor.
Each crease, sculpted
by the love for her children.
No nip and tuck
to help erase the bitter winters
that pierced through her skin like daggers
or the nights she laid her head
against bare floors
that bore blisters on her spirit
No sweet lullaby to sing
for the aspirations she carried on her back
like a new born baby
Her eyes, heavy from centuries of disappointment,
still warm up souls like sancocho
Her lips have only spoken the truth
even when she wasn’t understood
Navigating through unfamiliar places,
with strange faces, and labeled an alien
A word used to describe anything that is different
Never fulfilling prophecies
of men destined to be kings
but instead nurtured boys
whose lives would end
before they began.
Searching for justice in a foreign land,
ambition is now placed in the hands
of future generations.
She is a living record
of what can’t be found in history books.
She is history
that hasn’t been written yet.
Like this:
Haikus (2/30)
Shattered dreams always
drown in pools of potential
once full of promise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blood lines are all that
remain as reminders of
life taken too soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nightly visits, he
gently nudges on my door
begging me to let him in.
~a Haiku poem is a Japanese poem with the first verse with 5 syllables and the second with 7 syllablles and the 3rd with 5 syllablles.~
Like this:
Regreso
A portrait hangs on the wall
Of a Taino queen
She has my abuela’s eyes
Sugar cane skin
Emitting light
That illuminates our potential
History wears the face of family
Looking to the past,
to create the future
I reach through centuries
to reclaim that which we have
forgotten, forgone, and been stripped of
Honor, power, strength, self-respect
Once petroglyphs etched on stone
Are now an apparition
Today we have
half-naked young women
Diminishing their self-worth
To chase a net worth
Provided by media empires
Of so-called “reality tv”
A reality lacking political activism,
female solidarity, gender equality
because despite how far we’ve come
Men still want to dictate to us what we
Should do with our bodies
Was this the future our ancestors desired for us?
Our grandmothers and great grandmothers
Cleaned homes, swept floors,
Laid bricks and mortar that paved
our road to freedom.
The freedom for us to make a difference
The freedom for us to be business owners and decision makers
The freedom to be heard, to be respected, to be treated as equals
But instead of moving forward we are regressing
Where are our women with strength like old family traditions?
Where are our leaders?
Where is this generation’s revolution?
For the footsteps of the past have long faded
History has pushed its way into the present
We are here now
It is our time to educate
Teach our daughters and nieces
the importance of their lives
But even more importantly,
the significance of their past.
For a portrait hangs on the wall
Of a Taino queen
She has my daughter’s eyes
Sugar cane skin
Emitting light
That illuminates our potential.
History wears the face of family
I am the past,
she is the future
I reach through centuries
to reclaim that which we have
forgotten, forgone, and been stripped of.
Like this:
Untitled
Crickets sing lullabies
in uncharted latitudes
where earth meets sky,
butterflies dance
against the tree lined milieu
like a Thomas Kinkade masterpiece
Shadows cower
beneath the shimmering
touch of the moon
Weaving a future
from a tangled past,
trying to erase a life rich in history
Bells toll, the street light flickers
Concrete and cement yards
replaced by soccer moms
and bustling children.
Writing Prompt: Write a piece inspired by the image above.
Like this:
My Grandmother’s Hands
My Grandmother's Hands
Like this:
Eulogy
Reflections of a life spent crouching corners,
dingy couches in smoky lounges
Searching for the next willing participant to play this game
To implant my seeds with no real regard to consequence
Severing ties in barren wombs
Terminating life
Never expecting you to blossom from unfertilized potential
Another addition on my black list of shame
No intentions to call, never even knew your name
Somber portraits of lovers past sing soliloquies
Into succulent black holes
For self fulfilling prophecies
Rewind
Crawl back in time
Into the uterine walls
Before aspirations were deceased
Never loving you
Because I didn’t know how to love myself
Never knowing you
Because I was scared to know myself
Looking for me
In nameless faces
In shameful places
Unrequited love, is all you received
This is my attempt to write the wrong
To sew back the threads of life
That I took away from you
Tears line paper
Menacing memories leave me maimed
Palpitated heart loses rhythm
All I feel is shame
Forgive me Father for I have sinned
I have allowed foreign fingers to caress her skin
Allowed her to fall in love with useless men
Because I wasn’t man enough to love her
Drunken words soaked in disappointment
Dilute a regretful heart
I am broken
I am the scar that she wears condescendingly
Reminding her that she will never heal
Reminding me that she will never feel
The love that only I could give her
Forgive me for running away from my responsibility
Forgive me for desecrating her virtue for my vanity
Forgive me for the painful memories of armor she now carries
To hide the wounded child searching for a father
Who never bothered to search for her
Forgive me for never loving her the way
A father should love a daughter
I will never rest in peace but
If you ever find it in your heart to forgive me
You can read my last words in my eulogy
Queen
I am Brooklyn Bridge strong,
can’t nobody hold me down
Unless I let them…
I am Statue of Liberty tall
and I will not bow down
Just because you feel inadequate
I am the Caribbean sky dressed in
golden hues of ambition you wish you could lay under
A daughter of royalty
And so I shall act accordingly
I will NOT be a cheap Canal street
knock off of what others think I should be
I am the hottest car on the block
Fully loaded…but I am not for sale
I was BORN for a purpose
More than just that road
You think you can walk all over
The backbone to your existence
I was NOT created solely for your
Viewing pleasure
Although I am pretty
You will not define me by looks
I AM
2 degree holding
College educated
But well versed in street vernacular
So don’t get it twisted when I burn
You with my tongue…
I AM
the Susan B Anthony suffragette movement
and I will vote your ass right out of office
if you don’t treat me like
the queen that I am
I AM
Harriet Tubman salvation
Follow me and
I can get you to the Promised Land.
Take you back to the mother land
Back to where we are all one
Despite our skin tone
Back to where we don’t have to espeak de ingles
If we don’t want to
Because…
I AM
La isla del encanto
La brisa acariciando tu piel
Yo Soy
Sueños realizado
Mis palabras mi munición en esta querra de identidad
Yo Soy
Las olas del mar
ven bañate en mi libertad
Yo Soy
Las parrandas en las Navidades
escucha mi canción
Yo Soy
Platanos maduros, chuleta fritas, arroz y habichuelas
Ven y alimentate en mí
I AM
Food for your mind, soul, and spirit
500 hundred years in the making
Crafted to perfection
I AM
What I say I am and I say that
I AM a Queen!
Like this:
The Waters Within
My parched lips search for
the sweetness of steady waters
I search for the endless
rhythm of the ocean
so that I may bathe myself in
velvet hopes of new beginnings.
My heart tugs strings weaving back
together the strands of my soul
Intricate tapestry folds peeking through
the veil of my truth that reminds me
of the beauty that lies within.
Once dried up inside,
baptize me so that I may be reborn
an oasis rising from a sandy wasteland
created to quench the thirst of 1 million skies.
Cleanse me with daily gratitude,
trust, patience, fruitfulness, and love.
For your rippled waves
have awakened dormant dreams
that once flowed through me
like the great Nile River.
Through parted waters
and into the desert of infancy
I found myself again.
I valued myself again
I loved myself again.
And when the tides change
Because they always do,
I will take shelter in the land of Me.
For I have now found my voice.
I have now found my light.
I have now found my strength.
I am caught in a spiritual current.
I am now transformed.
