Some Haiku for Magú
foto:msedano
By Rubén “Funkahuatl” Guevara
First read on August 6, 2011, at the Los Angeles home of the Honorable Ricardo Muñoz. A four directions ceremonia followed led by Lara Medina, Yreina Cervantez, and Sybil Venegas In front of an altar they created for Magú
Hey Magú what’s new?
Are you dancing with angels?
Real tight and real slow?
Playing some James Brown?
Please, Please, Please, In a Cold Sweat?
Try Me, Out of Sight?
We met at LACMA
Los 4 in Seventy Four
Chevy hood looked good
Perritos and cars
Cruising became an art form
Aztlán your palette
Your humor was art
Glowing, radiating love
Whimsy, light, passion
The spirit of art
A mystical mystery
Penetrating hearts
Magulandia
A place of visions and dreams
Cosmic locura
An artist shaman
Conjuring liminal grace
Magú por vida
“Les Demon des Anges”
Chicano art hits Europe
We partied till dawn
Dinner in Lyon
We smoked and drank to the gods
Ate like emperors
Collaboration
You wrapped me in a mural
I rolled out a god
Funkahuatl sang
Leading the crowd to Aztlán
Dancing with tears, joy
So, what’s new Magú?
Getting ready to join you
Just a few more years
Gotta live real, real
Live life as a work of art
Breathe the art of life
Your art is spirit
Chicano Buddhist brother
Thank you for painting
Thank you for living
Thank you for being Magú
Now, get to work holmes
C/S
On-Line Floricanto
Francisco Alarcón and the moderators of the Facebook group Poets Responding to SB 1070 delight this week with a pair of bonus poems, dual language pieces. This week's La Bloga On-Line Floricanto thus presents seven poems by five poets and one translator: Adrian Arancibia, Meg Withers, Miguel Robles, Jesus Cortez, Jabez W. Churchill. Pati Moran Montaño:
"Yo fui Joaquín" by Adrian Arancibia
"Making Salsa con Lola y Vanessa" by Meg Withers
"Somos / We Are" by Miguel Robles (English translation by Pati Moran Montaño)
"American Terrorism" by Jesus Cortez
"Pajarito / Little Bird" by Jabez W. Churchill
Yo fui Joaquín
by Adrian Arancibia
the story begins
like the ones
my mother tells me.
young men, who have
nothing left. nothing
left but their hands
and their feet. they travel.
these young men protest
they are arrested tortured
sometimes lynched
and así fue.
a san francisco
llegó el salitre. llegó
a la lluvia y al frío.
y yo llegué también
algo como el pasado
and that was the way
the story becomes myth
mitos, empiezan así
worn shoes,
worn shoes and
horses
in the aftermath
guadalupe hidalgo
holds out like a shackle
where you took my wife
lynched my brother
my father, mother
this was me.
yo soy joaquín
was
the beginning.
the pauses,
the words,
and the distance
my ride could travel.
yeah, yo soy joaquin
chileno/chicano/mexicano
pivot point position
of a movement
yo soy joaquín
the stability of
the known thrown
into chaos
the wind blowing
el barco bringing us north
knows this current
events placing people
here, not there.
and how hands
reaching hands came out
thirded not seconded
yo soy joaquín
for every forgotten
body the south has
let go north
yo soy joaquín
soy esa muchacha guatemal-
teca who dies on the journey
norte, sur fills the heart
with every rape
with every shot
with every nameless
grave filled
joaquín...
murrieta lives between
meade and monroe
on the corner of north and monroe
he is me and i am he.
the crease
of a play, poem, mural
tracing pino oregon
to placers
tracing minas
to mineros
to brown hands to celestials
to mine shafts
to recall, recalling
strange fruit hanging
from trees
yo soy joaquín...
murrieta is on whittier
where the cross-pollination
of tag and sect
is the mural, rising above
like mist from cool shadows
in a place
where the air is thick
and the pavement wide
and the voices call out
norte, desde el sur
where we were promised
language and land.
pocho hadn't yet arrived
instead californio dreams
moved the 16th of september
to stinko de mayos.
& subsumed names
& histories like
pylons and freeways
do neighborhoods
nowadays
yo soy joaquín...
joaquín es un chiquillo, playing
soccer in italy soon to be traded
to barca who began his days
in a dirty, dusty town
the shoeless shadow of tocopilla
he played, his ghost still plays
barefoot on streets echoing
este es mi chile querido
este es, el chile!
este es, el chile!
to the diaspora
north.
norte desde el sur.
si, yo soy joaquín
a half irish muralist
from city terrace paints
past to futures
of the chicano blanket
opening and warming
the limbs of the
recienllegados
pues sí, ustedes
tambien belong in
el lay. porque todos
todos, todos, toditos
todos, somos
sí yo soy,
joaquín.
Making Salsa con Lola y Vanessa
by Meg y Queen Chile Salsa
Watering eyes tears flow a thousand
years mingling in a pot of almost/salsa.
Who knows where Queen Chile got the idea
crying is good for the soul.
Cooking salsa con Lola who masters
our kitchen of boiling pots
cilantro garlic jitomates y jalapeños –
scratch for attention in our throats.
We three cut and slice and mix
boiling away the hot afternoon/blanching
eons of history grown in tomatoes y chiles.
We cry – and laugh at our crying,
we sisters of the Salsa make gritos
when our eyes burn fingers dancing
over waves of steam from pots almost –
almost ready to fill empty glass jars
that wait clear like stomachs
of loved ones waiting for Salsa.
Somos
por Miguel Robles
Si alguien nos pregunta quiénes somos
les diremos que escapamos de prisión
que saltamos precipicios
que violamos las fronteras del prejuicio
que rompimos los espejos de la duda
que robamos más de un banco de comida
que burlamos muchas leyes ciegas mudas sin sentido
que no fuimos a la escuela ni a la iglesia ni al doctor
que quisimos aprender por cuenta propia
a contar los arbolitos las estrellas las hormigas
a exorcizar nuestros demonios
a curar nuestras heridas
a despertar sobre la hierba a una orilla del camino
les diremos que vestimos nuestras pieles cada día
que sembramos poesía por las aceras del imperio
que soñamos despertar sin ansiedad por el trabajo
sin el temor de consumirnos complaciendo al vendedor
sin el horror de callar lo que pensamos
si alguien nos pregunta quienes somos
les diremos
no sabemos
solo somos
somos
somos
Si alguien te pregunta dónde vives
haz de hablar de los senderos que has andado
de los árboles que trepas
del sonido de tus manos en el cuero del tambor
de tu canto de agua clara serpenteando entre las rocas
De las olas que se quiebran en tus pies
en tu cintura
en tu pecho
en tu sonrisa
Estarás muy orgullosa de decir que tus vecinos
son los pájaros
las hojas de los robles
la sequoia
un clan de puercos clandestinos
y un amante que te ama a ciencia cierta
Que tu nido es un recinto que se extiende
desde el bosque
hasta la playa
que atraviesa los desiertos
que se cuelga de los cuernos de la luna
Si alguien te pregunta dónde vives
le dirás que sólo vives
vives
vives
Si alguien me pregunta a dónde vamos
les diré que a donde falten nuestras huellas allí iremos
leeremos en la palma de las manos el momento de partir
de los ojos de los búhos nos caerá la noche entera
al despertar el estomago nos apremiara a marchar
nuestros mapas son las manchas de la piel de los felinos
a puro golpe de suerte seguiremos adelante
guiados por corazonadas
enfrascados en debates
en combates
en protestas
huelgas de hambre
seguiremos compartiendo la experiencia de vivir
Si alguien me pregunta a dónde vamos
les diré que sólo vamos
vamos
vamos
* * * * * * * * * **
We Are
by Miguel Robles
(English translation by Pati Moran Montaño)
If someone asks us who we are
we will tell them that we escaped from prison
that we jumped over cliffs
that we violated the boundaries of prejudice
hat we shattered the mirrors of doubt
that we stole from multiple food banks
that we fooled many blind mute and senseless laws
that we did not go to school to church nor to the doctor
that we wanted to learn through our own efforts
to count the little trees the stars the ants
to exorcise our own demons
to heal our own wounds
to awake on a bed of weeds at the edge of the path
we will tell them that every day we dress in our skins
That we sow poetry on the sidewalks of the empire
that we dream of waking without anxiety from work
with out fear of consuming ourselves from pleasing the salesman
without the horror of silencing what we think
If someone asks us who we are
we will tell them
we do not know
we just are
are
are
If someone asks you where you live
you will speak of the paths that you have walked
of the trees that you climb
of the sound of your hands on the drum skin
of your song of clear water meandering through the rocks
Of the waves that crash on your feet
on your waist
on your chest
on your smile
You will be quite proud to say that your neighbors
are the birds
the leaves of the oak trees
the sequoia
a clan of clandestine pigs
and a lover who loves you with complete certainty
That your nest is a region which extends
from the forest
to the beach
which crosses deserts
which hangs on the horns of the moon
If someone asks you where you live
you will tell them that you only live
live
live
If someone asks me where we are going
I will tell them that we will go wherever our footprints are absent
In the palms of our hands we will read the moment of our departure
through the owls’ eyes the night will fall upon us
upon waking the stomach will urge us to march on
our maps the spots found on the fur of felines
on a sheer stroke of luck we will carry on
guided through impulse
engulfed in debates
in combats
in protests
hunger strikes
continuing to share the experience of living
If someone asks me where we are going
I will tell them that we are just going
going
going
American Terrorism
by Jesus Cortez
Midnight neighborhood raids,
...unmarked police cars,
guns pointed at teenage boys,
who fear not the criminal
street element, but fear
the legal criminal element,
who kill legally...
Early morning I.C.E. raids,
as mothers prepare for work,
preparing their coffee
to be awaken to another reality--
where to run to, when home has not been
home for more than twenty years,
and this home does not welcome you?
Pajarito
by Jabez W. Churchill
Más allá del pájaro
el eco de su canto
se evapora en el sol.
Más allá de la puerta,
de bocas cerradas
no se oye el aguacero
de ruegos y cachetadas.
Sólo el vivo divisa el silbido,
el avala, de los techos
y se huye.
Más allá del zócalo,
el torpe trueno de batones,
patas ferradas encima de cartones,
no alcanza el grito quebrado de los callados,
el agudo hedor de vómito y sangre,
ni reverbera en las noticias o el diario.
Pero otra ave,
testigo, quizás niño,
se inspira a romper
el silencio pesado del atardecer,
a trasladar el ocaso y saludar al sol.
¡Canta!
¿Lo oyes?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Little Bird
by Jabez W. Churchill
Beyond the bird,
the echo of its song
evaporates in the sun.
Beyond closed doors, closed mouths,
the downpour of pleading and bitch-slapping
goes unheard.
Only the quick hear the whistling,
the ‘watch-out’, from the rooftops
and run.
Beyond the square,
the dull thud of batons, horseshoes on cardboard,
the broken cries of the silenced,
sharp stench of vomit and blood
does not reach,
doesn’t even reverberate in the news or daily paper.
But other birds, a witness,
perhaps a child,
is moved to break the heavy silence of the afternoon,
to bridge the darkness
and greet the sun.
Sing!
Can you hear it?
BIOS
"Yo fui Joaquín" by Adrian Arancibia
"Making Salsa con Lola y Vanessa" by Meg Withers
"Somos / We Are" by Miguel Robles (English translation by Pati Moran Montaño)
"American Terrorism" by Jesus Cortez
"Pajarito / Little Bird" by Jabez W. Churchill
Adrián Arancibia 
Adrián Arancibia is an author and critic based in San Diego, California. He is a founder of the seminal Chicano/Latino performance poetry collective Taco Shop Poets. Born in Iquique, Chile (1971), Arancibia is the co-editor of the Taco Shop Poets Anthology: Chorizo Tonguefire and the recently published collection of poetry titled Atacama Poems. His new book of poetry, The Keeper/El guardador is slated for release in late 2011. A Ph.D. candidate in literature at the University of California at San Diego, he currently works as an associate professor of English at Miramar Community College. His creative work depicts and comments the lives of immigrants. His critical work focuses on literature and it’s relation to social spaces.
Adrián Arancibia is an author and critic based in San Diego, California. He is a founder of the seminal Chicano/Latino performance poetry collective Taco Shop Poets. Born in Iquique, Chile (1971), Arancibia is the co-editor of the Taco Shop Poets Anthology: Chorizo Tonguefire and the recently published collection of poetry titled Atacama Poems. His new book of poetry, The Keeper/El guardador is slated for release in late 2011. A Ph.D. candidate in literature at the University of California at San Diego, he currently works as an associate professor of English at Miramar Community College. His creative work depicts and comments the lives of immigrants. His critical work focuses on literature and it’s relation to social spaces. Meg Withers 
Meg Withers is a writer, teacher, community activist and staunch civil rights practitioner. Her work has been published a lot. She has three books of poetry, the latest, Particular Odyssey: In Search, using the language of math and science, to be published soon. She believes most staunchly in inclusion rather than exclusion. She became a social and political activist the day her mother had one of Cesar Chavez' priests to dinner when she was thirteen years old. She implemented the visiting writer program at Merced Community College – Los Baños campus, and specializes in teaching the reading-deprived to understand that they have been greatly misinformed about their lack of ability to read and think. She is currently celebrating the life of her status as mother and grandmother with her family. She is a generally a happy person.
Meg Withers is a writer, teacher, community activist and staunch civil rights practitioner. Her work has been published a lot. She has three books of poetry, the latest, Particular Odyssey: In Search, using the language of math and science, to be published soon. She believes most staunchly in inclusion rather than exclusion. She became a social and political activist the day her mother had one of Cesar Chavez' priests to dinner when she was thirteen years old. She implemented the visiting writer program at Merced Community College – Los Baños campus, and specializes in teaching the reading-deprived to understand that they have been greatly misinformed about their lack of ability to read and think. She is currently celebrating the life of her status as mother and grandmother with her family. She is a generally a happy person.Miguel Robles 
Born and raised Mexico City, artisan, poet & activists. He studied art history, silversmithing, and creative writing. he has been working on issues related to democracy, globalization and human rights, for over 20 years, supporting his activism selling jewelry, he has founded and co-founded different grassroots organizations, among them: ALIADI, The California Biosafety Alliance, Front for Democracy in Mexico and is the coordinator of the Colectivo Verso Activo and it's main project El Primer Festival de Poesia Latinoamericana de San Francisco CA. He has been living in San Francisco since 2002. Publiched in different anthologies he is the Author of at 24th & Mission released in 2010 by Jambu Press: http://www.studiosaraswati.com/mission.htm
Born and raised Mexico City, artisan, poet & activists. He studied art history, silversmithing, and creative writing. he has been working on issues related to democracy, globalization and human rights, for over 20 years, supporting his activism selling jewelry, he has founded and co-founded different grassroots organizations, among them: ALIADI, The California Biosafety Alliance, Front for Democracy in Mexico and is the coordinator of the Colectivo Verso Activo and it's main project El Primer Festival de Poesia Latinoamericana de San Francisco CA. He has been living in San Francisco since 2002. Publiched in different anthologies he is the Author of at 24th & Mission released in 2010 by Jambu Press: http://www.studiosaraswati.com/mission.htmJesus Cortez
Jesus Cortez is a poet from West Anaheim, California. He uses poetry to communicate with the community the issues that he finds within the communitieshe is a part of. Jesus' Poetry has strong Hip Hop influences, but is also influenced by life as a son of a single mother, and from the various experiences found in the urban landscape. The poetry of Jesus Cortez explores the ways immigrants react to humilliation, frustration, condemnation, segregation, and persecution. This poem, "American Terrorism" was inspired by the suffering of his people when encountered with policies such as "Secure Communities" and "287g".Con respecto a mi, naci en California, pero cumpli mi bachillerato en Mar del Plata, Rep. Argentina, en 1969. Regrese a California a seguir mis estudios universitarios en Santa Rosa Junior College y a organizar la protesta contra la guerra y otras injusticias globales. Termine mis estudios en psico-linguisticas en Sonoma State College y empece a someter mi obra para que se publicara en 1979, y a declamar alrededor de la Bahia, incluso la Mision. En 2000, viaje con una tripulacion de poetas bilingues de California a Espana a declamar. Y en 2001, becado por la Casa de las Americas a Cuba.
Acabo de regresar del Summer Dream Poetry Festival en Vancouver, B.C. que se realizo el 13 de este mes. Comparti del escenario lo que esta pasando aqui por la frontera y tambien silbe "el avala" por radio cooperativo para que no permitan que el gobierno lo haga en Canada. Me dedico a ensenar el espanol en los Junior Colleges de Santa Rosa y de Mendocino. Tambien enseno la poesia en las salas juveniles de ambos condados y en los colegios que sean por lo tanto hispanohablantes a traves del California Poets in the Public Schools ya desde hace como diez anos.
Jabez W. Churchill 
Con respecto a mi, naci en California, pero cumpli mi bachillerato en Mar del Plata, Rep. Argentina, en 1969. Regrese a California a seguir mis estudios universitarios en Santa Rosa Junior College y a organizar la protesta contra la guerra y otras injusticias globales. Termine mis estudios en psico-linguisticas en Sonoma State College y empece a someter mi obra para que se publicara en 1979, y a declamar alrededor de la Bahia, incluso la Mision. En 2000, viaje con una tripulacion de poetas bilingues de California a Espana a declamar. Y en 2001, becado por la Casa de las Americas a Cuba.
Acabo de regresar del Summer Dream Poetry Festival en Vancouver, B.C. que se realizo el 13 de este mes. Comparti del escenario lo que esta pasando aqui por la frontera y tambien silbe "el avala" por radio cooperativo para que no permitan que el gobierno lo haga en Canada.
Me dedico a ensenar el español en los Junior Colleges de Santa Rosa y de Mendocino. Tambien enseno la poesia en las salas juveniles de ambos condados y en los colegios que sean por lo tanto hispanohablantes a traves del California Poets in the Public Schools ya desde hace como diez años.
La foto que le mando es de mi nieta encima de su abuelito(yo).
Hasta ahora tengo cinco libros: dos con Kulupi Press y otro por la red con Language Arts.
(note: diacritics omitted owing to keyboard issues)
Love the Meg Withers bio. May we all be happy people.
ReplyDelete