Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Happy New Year 2015/ Feliz año 2015






EL BRINDIS BOHEMIO

Guillermo Aguirre Fierro (Mexicano)
El Paso, Texas 1915

En torno de una mesa de cantina,
una noche de invierno,
regocijadamente departían
seis alegres bohemios.

Los ecos de sus risas escapaban
y de aquel barrio quieto
iban a interrumpir el imponente
y profundo silencio.

El humo de olorosos cigarillos
en espirales se elevaba al cielo,
simbolizando al resolverse en nada,
la vida de los sueños.

Pero en todos los labios había risas,
inspiración en todos los cerebros,
y, repartidas en la mesa, copas
pletóricas de ron, whisky o ajenjo.

Era curioso ver aquel conjunto,
aquel grupo bohemio,
del que brotaba la palabra chusca,
la que vierte veneno,
lo mismo que, melosa y delicada,
la música de un verso.

A cada nueva libación, las penas
hallábanse más lejos
del grupo, y nueva inspiración llegaba
a todos los cerebros,
con el idilio roto que venía
en alas del recuerdo.

Olvidaba decir que aquella noche,
aquel grupo bohemio
celebraba entre risas, libaciones,
chascarrillos y versos,
la agonía de un año que amarguras
dejó en todos los pechos,
y la llegada, consecuencia lógica,
del "feliz año nuevo".

Una voz varonil dijo de pronto:
- las doce, compañeros;
digamos el "requiescat" por el año
que ha pasado a formar entre los muertos.
¡Brindemos por el año que comienza!
porque nos traiga ensueños;
porque no sea su equipaje un cúmulo
de amargos desconsuelos.

- Brindo, dijo otra voz, por la esperanza
que la vida nos lanza,
de vencer los rigores del destino,
por la esperanza, nuestra dulce amiga,
que las penas mitiga
y convierte en vergel nuestro camino.

Brindo porque ya hubiere a mi existencia
puesto fin con violencia
esgrimiendo en mi frente mi venganza;
si en mi cielo de tul limpio y divino
no alumbrara mi sino
una pálida estrella: Mi esperanza.

¡Bravo!, dijeron todos, inspirado
esta noche has estado
y hablaste bueno, breve y substancioso.
El turno es de Raúl; alce su copa
y brinde por . . . Europa,
ya que su extranjerismo es delicioso.

Bebo y brindo, clamó el interpelado;
brindo por mi pasado,
que fue de luz, de amor y de alegría,
y en el que hubo mujeres seductoras
y frentes soñadoras
que se juntaron con la frente mía.

Brindo por el ayer que en la amargura
que hoy cubre de negrura
mi corazón, esparce sus consuelos
trayendo hasta mi mente las dulzuras
de goces, de ternuras,
de dichas, de deliquios, de desvelos.

-Yo brindo, dijo Juan, porque en mi mente
brote un torrente
de inspiración divina y seductora,
porque vibre en las cuerdas de mi lira
el verso que suspira,
que sonríe, que canta y que enamora.

Brindo porque mis versos cual saetas
lleguen hasta las grietas
formadas de metal y de granito,
del corazón de la mujer ingrata
que a desdenes me mata.
¡pero que tiene un cuerpo muy bonito!

Porque a su corazón llegue mi canto,
porque enjuguen mi llanto
sus manos que me causan embelesos;
porque con creces mi pasión me pague.
¡vamos!, porque me embriague
con el divino néctar de sus besos.

Siguió la tempestad de frases vanas,
de aquellas tan humanas
que hallan en todas partes acomodo,
y en cada frase de entusiasmo ardiente,
hubo ovación creciente,
y libaciones, y reir, y todo.

Se brindó por la patria, por las flores,
por los castos amores
que hacen un valladar de una ventana,
y por esas pasiones voluptuosas
que el fango del placer llena de rosas
y hacen de la mujer la cortesana.

Sólo faltaba un brindis, el de Arturo,
el del bohemio puro,
de noble corazón y gran cabeza;
aquel que sin ambages declaraba
que sólo ambicionaba
robarle inspiración a la tristeza.

Por todos lados estrechado, alzó la copa
frente a la alegre tropa
desbordante de risa y de contento
los inundó en la luz de una mirada,
sacudió su melena alborotada
y dijo así, con inspirado acento:

-Brindo por la mujer, mas no por esa
en la que halláis consuelo en la tristeza,
rescoldo del placer ¡desventurados!
no por esa que os brinda sus hechizos
cuando besáis sus rizos
artificiosamente perfumados.

Yo no brindo por ella, compañeros,
siento por esta vez no complaceros.
Brindo por la mujer, pero por una,
por la que me brindó sus embelesos
y me envolvió en sus besos;
por la mujer que me arrulló en la cuna.

Por la mujer que me enseñó de niño
lo que vale el cariño
exquisito, profundo y verdadero;
por la mujer que me arrulló en sus brazos
y que me dió en pedazos
uno por uno, el corazón entero.

¡Por mi madre! bohemios, por la anciana
que piensa en el mañana
como en algo muy dulce y muy deseado,
porque sueña tal vez que mi destino
me señala el camino
por el que volveré pronto a su lado.

Por la anciana adorada y bendecida,
por la que con su sangre me dió vida,
y ternura y cariño;
por la que fue la luz del alma mía;
y lloró de alegría
sintiendo mi cabeza en su corpiño.

Por esa brindo yo, dejad que llore,
que en lágrimas desflore
esta pena letal que me asesina;
dejad que brinde por mi madre ausente,
por la que llora y siente
que mi ausencia es un fuego que calcina.

Por la anciana infeliz que sufre y llora
y que del cielo implora
que vuelva yo muy pronto a estar con ella;
por mi madre bohemios, que es dulzura
vertida en mi amargura
y en esta noche de mi vida, estrella.

El bohemio calló; ningún acento
profanó el sentimiento
nacido del dolor y la ternura,
y pareció que sobre aquel ambiente
flotaba inmensamente
un poema de amor y de amargura.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Poet in TedX Talk. Next Year in Havana. Content Creator Contest. 2014 Through a Keyhole

Guest Columnist Raúl Sánchez: Poet's TedX Talk

Raúl Sánchez was surprised to learn that the Yakima County Dream Team was using poems from his poetry collection, All Our Brown-skinned Angels, at immigration rallies and assemblies. He did not realize that had launched a thirst for his, and related work, in the local communities. He was invited to present at TEDx Yakima Salon on October 24. 

Here is Raúl’s account of the presentation at the Yakima Valley Museum.

The process of preparation began by watching the videos already available from other local conferences and cities in order to get the idea of the flow, intent, punctuation and impact to be delivered to the listener.

The theme for the event was “Growth”. The organizers picked that name based on one of the poems in my book titled “Dandelion”. They told me that the metaphor of the fuzzes like words flying in the breeze and landing in the ear of those who listen thereby growing and developing into a new idea, a new poem to heal, moved and inspired others.

I started by describing the genesis of the original idea. On a walk with my daughter, she picked the biggest dandelions and blew the fuzzes with her breath ,watching them fly in the breeze. I immediately thought: What if those fuzzes were the words in a poem and what impact would those words have on people far away from me?

All of us have experienced these feelings when we read poems other poets have published. That was precisely the experience some of the folks in the Yakima Valley experienced when they read or heard the poems at those Dream Team assemblies. I was honored to learn of their response, that my work had an effect on people I’ve never met.

I organized my talk about the experience of creating a poem and how the idea shapes up into a compact story by “using the best words in the best order.”

My presentation highlighted words from W.B. Yates, Philip Larkin and Martín Espada. I was careful to use images the audience would find easy to see in their minds’ eye. I enhanced the pieces using rhythmic alliteration, metaphor and mystery.

I made a point of exactness and slowing down to see what is always there but which remains unappreciated because we are always in a hurry to appreciate other people or the nature around us. That had a tremendous effect as part of the message in the presentation as well as the tenderness expressed when my daughter and I write poems together.

The TedX talk experience brings satisfaction from knowing that my work is appreciated somewhere else, even though I may not have first hand knowledge of the effects of my work. It was a significant honor, being on that stage. It magnified and encouraged me to write poems that seek to inspire and move others, like “Dandelion,” one of my favorite poems in All Our Brown-Skinned Angels.

Dandelion
by Raúl Sánchez

My daughter and I wrote a poem last night
We picked ideas and objects to write about
We mixed them up
in a salad bowl
carefully tossed

We picked funny words
to make happy sounds
We added, repeated, deleted

We laughed and fell to our toes
pretended to be dandelions
waiting for the wind
to shake us up

We acted like daffodils
and tulips soaked in rain
We opened ourselves in the morning
and closed our petals
when the sun ran away

We agreed that our poem
should be like a dandelion
so when shared with others,
the words will float to the ears
of those who listen

Carried by our breath
like the dandelion fuzzes
in the breeze
and so, my daughter and I
wrote a poem last night



Raúl Sánchez comes from a place south where the sun shines fiercely. He is a translator currently working on the Spanish version of his inaugural collection All Our Brown-Skinned Angels that was nominated for the 2013 Washington State Book Award in Poetry. He is also working on a Long Poem Memoir a project for the 2014 Jack Straw Writers. He is a mentor for the 2014 Poetry on Buses program sponsored by Metro King County and 4 Culture. http://beyondaztlan.com and http://moonpathpress.com

Brown-Skinned Angels was published in March 2012 by MoonPath Press a small press, Kingston WA.

 Pres. Obama's Cuba-U.S. Initiative Also Means: Read About Travel In Cuba

The New York Times and The Daily Beast both chose La Bloga friend Tom Miller’s book about Cuba among the best reads about the island.  Miller's book, Trading with the Enemy: A Yankee Travels through Castro’s Cuba, was called “fun and engaging,” one that “introduces readers to the country’s intellectual elite, criminals, and ordinary citizens.” Miller has long conducted literary tours of Habana and environs. This year's journey lifts-off on January 3. For details, click here.

March Deadline Looms for Content Creator Contest
The National Hispanic Media Coalition, teaming with BabyFirst TeeVee network, announces annual opportunities for gente without Hollywood or industry conectas to see their childrens programming idea come to fruition. From the NHMC's press release: 


BabyFirst, the TV network devoted to delivering high-quality child development programming to tots and their parents, announced has teamed up with NHMC to launch an annual Latino-themed programming competition.

Called Rising Creators Project, the competition invites emerging talent - writers, musicians, animators and producers - to submit their idea or existing children's TV series for consideration.

An esteemed panel of media executives will select one winner whose show will appear on BabyFirst for two years, reaching 41 million households throughout the U.S.

Entries can be submitted now through March 15, 2015 at www.risingcreators.com.

A panel of judges will review the submissions and select finalists and, ultimately, a winner. The winning producer will then work with the network's production team to create their content or fine-tune their existing work before it premieres on BabyFirst.

The winner will fully own the rights to the series and will be entitled to 50% of revenues the series directly generates across platforms other than the BabyFirst television network.

All submissions must be suitable for children 2-4 years old, and should have an educational basis for early childhood learning. Acceptable content includes music, animation, scripts, show concepts and existing works. The content should embody and embrace Latino culture. Judges will consider educational and entertainment value, ingenuity, age-appropriateness and cultural relevance.


Michael Sedano's Highlights of the year--2014

La Bloga reached our Ten Year Anniversary in November. Earlier this year, our one millionth reader visited La Bloga. Thank you for reading La Bloga, for your Comments, for recommending La Bloga to friends and colleagues.

Over the course of a year, La Bloga's eleven writers, plus guest reviewers, present book reviews, new books, foto essays, interviews, original fiction and poetry, loads of literary news, food news including The Gluten-free Chicano's Celiac-friendly recipes, tips and techniques for reading your stuff aloud, and a host of diverse cultural updates.

July was a bummer. Two of La Bloga's writers had medical emergencies in July. Melinda Palacio, who shares Friday with La Bloga co-founder Manuel Ramos, fell down a flight of stairs, bringing horrid pain and a foot that pointed backwards. La Bloga-Tuesday's Michael Sedano had two emergency surgeries, one of which sent him to The Other Side where his ancestors told him to get out of line and burn sage. Whew. Both are back on their feet. Next week, will be Sedano's final column for a while as he returns for more surgery.

Medical highlights aren't the only ones La Bloga notes today. But because so many media produce lists of top ten, top twenty, top N of this and that, today La Bloga highlights three significant 2014 events.

Big screen: they didn't do well but they did it, Chicano filmmakers. Cesar Chavez and Water & Power came and went. With audiences rushing to suck down an outlandish tale of assassination to the tune of a couple million dollars in a few hours, it's a crying shame the box office combined for two Chicano movies with substance won't be as rewarding. The take-away: raza doesn't support raza film. Punto. Here's to 2015 changing that as gente acquire DVD copies of the two movies.

Novels: Poetry continues to be the most productive literary genre for raza writers. But it's novels that bring the big audiences. In 2014, feminist eroticism rubbed me the right way with Ana Castillo's Give It To Me. Castillo's wondrously funny and provocative novel is on those Top- lists, so if your Xmas stocking didn't come with Give It To Me, buy copies for yourself and all your friends. The take-away: give it to your friends.

LA Poetry scene: A generally high level of expertise among Los Angeles presenters continues with literary events ranging from Eric Contreras' garage in Bell to LA's newest public park, to important art galleries like Avenue50Studio. As in past years, many readers remain in their comfort zone, stuck to the page, minimal eye contact, limited personal contact with the audience. The take-away: Poets, your art deserves better readings. In a notable and wonderful change, the year ends with Luis J. Rodriguez giving an SRO audience a fabulously energized presentation.

In other poetry news, La Bloga's On-line Floricanto became a monthly feature after four years going weekly. Poetry is current events; we share our sorrow and outrage que faltamos 43. The emotions of Vivos los queremos will outlive 2014.

¿What are your 2014 highlights in Chicana Chicano Latina Latino literatura, cultura, life, y más? Leave a Comment to share two or three of your personal 2014 highlights.

See you next week, next year, same difference. And when you wish your friends a happy new year in Spanish, don't forget that tilde.

Monday, December 29, 2014

When in Seattle Do as Los Norteños Writers Do


By Xánath Caraza

 

Los Norteños Writers, El Centro de la Raza, Seattle University (Department of Women and Gender Studies and Department of Modern Languages and Cultures), Hugo House, la Sala, José Carrillo, Gabriella Gutiérrez y Muhs, Catalina Cantú, Robert Francis Flor, Denise Perez Lally, Alex Bautista, Jim Cantú y todos, mil gracias for planning and sponsoring such a meaningful visit to incredible Seattle from December 10 to December 14, 2014.

 


Oh, yes, we had two wonderful poetry presentations, three poetry workshops, one writers workshop and one teacher training workshop.  Seattle kept me happy busy, just as I love my visits.


 
 

Today, I have several guest writers.  First is Kristen Millares from Seattle, who was kind enough to moderate our reading at Hugo House on December 12, and then I also have several poems from some adultos y some niños y niñas who were part of my workshops in Seattle.

 




Here is a piece from Kristen Millares, a few photos of the marvelous different events and poetry, la poesía written by all these norteños y norteñas y con esto me despido.  Happy 2015 y viva la poesía!

 
LAS PALABRAS DE KRISTEN MILLARES

                Few poets claim the stage like Xánath Caraza.  Forget the modulated singsong of poetry voice.  Caraza resounds.  She sings.  She breathes new life into her work with every performance.  In short, she delivers.


            I was honored to introduce Caraza’s reading at Seattle’s Richard Hugo House on December 12th along with Los Norteños poets Jose Carrillo and Catalina Cantú, who organized a series of readings and workshops to celebrate Caraza’s new book, Sílabas de Viento/Syllables of Wind, just released by Mammoth Publications, which also published her collection Conjuro in 2012.
 
 

 

                But what does it mean to deliver a poem?  Consider her poem “Yanga,” reproduced in part here with permission of the author. 

Yanga, Yanga, Yanga,
Yanga, Yanga, Yanga,
Hoy, tu espíritu invoco
Aquí, en este lugar.

Este, este es mi poema para Yanga,
Mandinga, malanga, bamba.
Rumba, mambo, samba,
Palabras llegadas de África.


            In a linguistic tradition practiced by poets like Nicolás Guillén, Caraza summons the contributions of African culture to her motherland with onomatopoetic repetitions that recall percussive chants.  Sounds academic, right?  It wasn’t.  


            While Caraza is a professor at the University of Missouri at Kansas City, her stage presence is bold and anchored the deep reverberations of her voice and created an atmosphere in which anything might happen – in which the fugitive slave leader Yanga might appear, if only in the imaginations of the audience. 


            The recordings from that powerful night are not yet online, but you can sample Caraza’s style by listening to her read “Ante el río,” selected by the Smithsonian to promote Day of the Dead in 2013.  Published in Conjuro, I’ve reproduced “Ante el río” below with permission from Caraza.  Learn more about her at http://xanathcaraza.webs.com.

Ante el río

Como llorona estoy ante el río

Lamentándome por ti

Niño perdido

¡Ay de mí! ¡Ay de mí! ¡Llorona!

 

Como lagarto estoy sobre las piedras

Esperándote

En el río

 

Ave negra que nace del agua

Que abre sus alas

Y deja su historia salpicada

En el cauce del río

 

Dejando surcos en su vuelo bajo

Con su vientre pegado al río

Trinar sobre mis oídos

Rumor del agua

 

Bugambilias anaranjadas, fucsias, rosadas y blancas

Que están en mis sueños y

Me llenan la garganta

¡Ay de mí! ¡Ay de mí! ¡Llorona!

 

Eres tú el brujo y hechicero

Que se mete en mis sueños

Con el agua te lavo

Y te canto ante al río

¡Ay de mí! ¡Ay de mí! Niño perdido

 

Como Llorona estoy

Ante el río

Llévate mi tristeza niño hermoso

Lava mis penas en el río

 
Before the River

 
As Llorona I am before the river

Moaning for you

Niño perdido

¡Ay de mí! ¡Ay de mí! ¡Llorona!

 

As an alligator I am on the river stones

Waiting for you

In the river

 

Black bird born of the water

Opens its wings

And leaves its history sprinkled

By the flow of the river

Leaves tracks in its low flight

With its underside close to the river

Singing above my ears

Murmuring of water

 

Orange, fuchsia, pink and white buganvilias

Are in my dreams and

Fill my throat

¡Ay de mí! ¡Ay de mí! ¡Llorona!

 

You are the wizard and sorcerer

Who enters into my dreams

With water I wash you

And I sing to you before the river

¡Ay de mí! ¡Ay de mí! Niño perdido

 

As Llorona I am

Before the river

Take my sadness with you beautiful niño

Wash my sorrows in the river


 


Kristen Millares Young is a writer and journalist whose work has been featured by the Guardian, the New York Times, KUOW 94.9-FM, City Arts MagazinePacifica Literary Review, the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, the Miami Herald and TIME Magazine.  Kristen was the researcher for the NYT 2013 Pulitzer Prize-winning story “Snow Fall: The Avalanche at Tunnel Creek,” which also won a Peabody.  Hailed by The Stranger as one of the “fresh new faces in Seattle fiction,” she was a 2014 Jack Straw Writing Fellow. She has been researching and writing her first novel for seven years.  Kristen graduated magna cum laude from Harvard University and from the Master of Fine Arts program at the University of Washington, where she studied and taught creative writing.  She is a co-founder and board member of InvestigateWest, a nonprofit journalism center in the northwest.       


LA POESÍA DE LOS ADULTOS

 
 

Daisy Chain

By José Carrillo

 

I had a dream

the sky was filled with blue stems

showers of them on the ground

they turned to daisies.

My hair, as if ready to welcome them,

stretched all the way down

to greet them

I loved the rising flowers on me

I looked at them, smelled them

for a long time

soon they began to grow out of my body

until I became one with them.

To my surprise

I heard someone in the distance

shout my name: Margarita!

 

Also by José Carrillo, with Arturo Rodriguez en el tambor, here is his interpretation of my poem “Yanga”.
 

 

El Juego

By Denise Pérez Lally

 

Red Rover, Red Rover

The Queen asks, “Please come over.”

This diamond crown, so loved, so cherished, and worn with honor

…should not deceive you.

I ask myself, would you recognize me, sweating from waiting tables,

Or crawling on my hands

And knees cleaning their floors,

Or caring desperately for their children.

How did I get here? And to think those

Closest to me were left behind…

Red Rover, Red Rover.

 
 

My Primavera

By Denise Pérez Lally

 

Dolor, esperanza y sol

My country tis’ of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

My primavera,

Where is she?

 
 

Dear Mirella

By Xilen Ramírez

 
Too often,

mujeres Latinas,

mujeres de color,

are painted into de background. 

I’m here to tell you that

we don’t have to stay there.

 We can come out,

 and we can paint

our own vision

 of the world.

 

 

Movimiento

by Catalina M. Cantú

 

Day two of First Grade, I was shoved and called a nigger.

It was the first time; I heard the “n word”.

I felt their venom in my pores.

Teachers were mute.

 

Northwest postage stamp town of chalk people.

Where ever my family walked, they stopped us.

What are you?

Where are you from?

 

Papa, his wavy, ebony hair slicked back,

elegant in his suit, tie, and shinned shoes.

Met his ill dressed inquisitors with a stony gaze,

We are Americans, born in the U.S. of A.

 

Chalk people chortled and shook their pointed heads.

Their rancid racism reeked.

We escaped that time

And the next.

 

As a boy, Papa saw men lynched in Texas.

His pluck moved us further north

Not to a global city melting pot.

But, Surburbia with Barbie, Ken and their schools.

 

The Civil Rights movement tugged at my heart.

Where did I fit in the world?

Who were my people?

MECHA meeting brewed the tempest in my soul.

 

Doe-eyed whisper

Ravenous desire

Flor y canto.

 

Pungent rage

fueled by injustice howls

Justicia y libertad.

 

Sirens crush

Pavement kissed

Pinche vida.

 

Venceremos roar

Pomegranate gritos

Viva La Raza!


LA POESÍA DE LOS NIÑOS Y NIÑAS

 

¿Qué eres?

By Fernando B.

 

Yo hombre

Hombre soldado

Hombre fuerte

Hombre bueno

Hombre grande

Hombre de luz

Hombre de paz

Yo soy hombre

¿Qué eres tú?

 

 

Expresiones de Amor

By Jorge B.

 

Yo soy como el río

Fluye, fluye, fluye

Amar como el océano

Ama a las criaturas vivientes

Soy salvaje con pasión de amor

Amo a todos que me aman

Y tendrán lugar en mi corazón.

 

Libre

By Alex R.

 

Soy libre como una paloma

Soy libre como un árbol

Que está parado

Y que hay paz alrededor

Soy libre

Como el viento

Que sopla

Soy libre

Soy libre

Y libre estaré para siempre

No pierdes la fe

Siempre busca la libertad

 

Naturaleza

By Jasmine M.

 

El viento es suave

Miro los rayos de sol y de luna

Tengo fuerza de mujer que

Mira las flores blancas que

En el rayo de sol y luna brilla

Como una estrella y con la fuerza

De la mujer me siento libre

De mirar al cielo y decir, “Dios

Gracias por la naturaleza”

 

 

Hermosa Xihuatl

By Jennifer T.

 

Eres una hermosa xihuatl

Has tenido muchas serpientes en la vida

Eres madre y esposa

Eres una xihuatl valiente

Luchadora y poderosa

 

 

Bizia, zeurea

By Leire S.

 

Ez gaude ezer esaten

Ezta entzun beharrekoan

Persona horren bizia

Aurrean edo alboan

Izango duzu betiko

Beti beti zure ondoan

Ez zaitez inoiz beldurtu

Zu zeu ikusterakoan

 

*Nota de la poeta: No me gusta la poesía, pero sí la BERTXOLARITZA, que puede ser descrita como poesía vasca.

 

Traducción a español:

 

Vida, tuya

By Leire S.

 

No estamos diciendo nada

Ni tampoco tenemos que escuchar

La vida de esa persona

Al frente o al lado

La tendrás para siempre

Siempre, siempre a tu lado

No te asustes jamás

Al verte a ti mismo.