Who said 'show me your friends and I'll show you who you are?'
I am proud to endorse this gorgeous project of someone I am proud to call my friend, Geko Jones. Having grown up in a country whose indigenous cultures were trampled upon by a host of conquistadores, I am THRILLED by the respectful, inclusive and festive nature of this project. Cultures evolve, and as we cross borders we co-create aspects of the culture that are universal.
I support the Pico de Gallos project, invite you to do the same and consider yourself in good company. One of our tribe.
American-born Tish Vallés comes to live in America after decades overseas. The blog chronicles how an accidental American returns to her birthplace and gets to know the culture, the nation and its people.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
An Open Letter to Hades
The first time you came,
you came for my mother.
You made her slip on the slush
and I was collateral damage.
Swaddling me in four inches of blanket,
her woolen armory a forcefield and foretelling.
She had seen this before, the attack
on our kind. She knew to be ready,
Then you came for my five year-old legs.
An imbalance in my blood attacking
with boils, open sores and such pain
no child should ever know.I came back fighting.
You cannot keep me from running
on grass, in mini skirts. Don’t you know?
I am the grasses that green the earth.
I am everywhere all at once.
Catch me if you can.
You could not catch me when you returned
as the 12 year old boy and his shine.
Fingers and lips on my 8 year-old body,
Don't you know? I am out of your reach.
My virtue is the air you breathe, I can
fill your lungs then vaporize inside you,
in a flash, leave you longing
for the lover you never had,
elusive first kiss, untarnished mouth.
You came back for my mouth in
high balls and shot glasses.
Johnnie Walker, Jose Cuervo,
Stolichnaya, Jamieson, Jack Daniels.
Laphroaig. The one for the road
you thought would break me, the voice
from the bottle telling me I could drive.
Don't you know? I am black rubber on
concrete and I stick. I am the long
and winding road. I always make it home
by curfew, unscathed, still dancing.
Dancing with me those smoky nights
in those red light districts, on my
parents' bed, on the beach, in the
kitchen, on the first mattress I paid
for myself, the unprotected sex.
You came back for my blood by
seduction. You came for my flesh
in fluids, in ecstasy, on all my hot spots.
Don't you know? I am your orgasm,
I am your release, the humming of your
flesh. You will never be rid of me.
I will spend you again and again,
I drive your desire. I am
the lust that keeps the species
alive, the fire that multiplies cells,
I am life itself, an unlikely result.
Six ethnicities race through my DNA,
my bloodline is of warriors, wizards,
and wise men. I am priestess
and prostitute, The first time
you tried to kill me was the last time.
Before you come back, I have an offer
to make, a dance, a deal.
Come for me on the summer solstice.
Come for me in a leap year.
Come for me in a flourish,
as an ending, a magical cure.
Come to me as liberation so women
can take their place at the table
and the troubled can sleep at last.
There is work to be done here,
not a moment to waste
So if you are coming, come.
And bring it.
you came for my mother.
You made her slip on the slush
and I was collateral damage.
Swaddling me in four inches of blanket,
her woolen armory a forcefield and foretelling.
She had seen this before, the attack
on our kind. She knew to be ready,
Then you came for my five year-old legs.
An imbalance in my blood attacking
with boils, open sores and such pain
no child should ever know.I came back fighting.
You cannot keep me from running
on grass, in mini skirts. Don’t you know?
I am the grasses that green the earth.
I am everywhere all at once.
Catch me if you can.
You could not catch me when you returned
as the 12 year old boy and his shine.
Fingers and lips on my 8 year-old body,
Don't you know? I am out of your reach.
My virtue is the air you breathe, I can
fill your lungs then vaporize inside you,
in a flash, leave you longing
for the lover you never had,
elusive first kiss, untarnished mouth.
You came back for my mouth in
high balls and shot glasses.
Johnnie Walker, Jose Cuervo,
Stolichnaya, Jamieson, Jack Daniels.
Laphroaig. The one for the road
you thought would break me, the voice
from the bottle telling me I could drive.
Don't you know? I am black rubber on
concrete and I stick. I am the long
and winding road. I always make it home
by curfew, unscathed, still dancing.
Dancing with me those smoky nights
in those red light districts, on my
parents' bed, on the beach, in the
kitchen, on the first mattress I paid
for myself, the unprotected sex.
You came back for my blood by
seduction. You came for my flesh
in fluids, in ecstasy, on all my hot spots.
Don't you know? I am your orgasm,
I am your release, the humming of your
flesh. You will never be rid of me.
I will spend you again and again,
I drive your desire. I am
the lust that keeps the species
alive, the fire that multiplies cells,
I am life itself, an unlikely result.
Six ethnicities race through my DNA,
my bloodline is of warriors, wizards,
and wise men. I am priestess
and prostitute, The first time
you tried to kill me was the last time.
Before you come back, I have an offer
to make, a dance, a deal.
Come for me on the summer solstice.
Come for me in a leap year.
Come for me in a flourish,
as an ending, a magical cure.
Come to me as liberation so women
can take their place at the table
and the troubled can sleep at last.
There is work to be done here,
not a moment to waste
So if you are coming, come.
And bring it.
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