July 22nd

Make your heart stop, stop


It could happen across the world without one knowing
because what's relevant and important is measured by
different rules. Nowadays a Status Feed is a news ticker
and today the news were all about feeling hot, hot, hot, 
and less about lives lost in lands faraway
but slowly the word terror sneaks in 
terror
terrorist
terrorist attack
but later, with more details its
madman
madman
because that's the difference
a religion makes. 
Explosives, inhabited buildings
the everyday disrupted,
young lives, parents running, 
Mad Terror.  
We relate more to the known, 
this I know. And all I know is
dates, like April 19th, 
September 11th, 
April 20th, 
March 11th, 
July 7th, 
and all I know is that at some point someone thought
this would be the answer and all I know is
endless sun, and "my heart was left in..."
Oh Oslo.


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 25th

Hora Santa


Tia Angela died today
two years ago and today
her hora santa happens somewhere
in the Bronx while I decide that I'd rather
take the train to Times Square. 


I remember her with a tooth missing
and always the short hairdo and the 
long, wide, dresses that always shone
because Tia Angela dressed bright
like the candles that are being lit
in her name somewhere 
in the Bronx


but I'm still in Manhattan not asking
Santa Maria to pray for her soul
not meeting my cousin, 
not helping my Mami and Abuela take 
the subway. Instead I'm wondering


if I can get away with eating a 
McDonald's meal, in this, most holiest
of hours. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 24th

Easter Sunday


Means nothing. There are no palms
littering my household and there is no 
gozo because I can move about the house again
without hurting Sweet Jesus. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 23rd

Orlando to NY, NY to Boston, Boston to Lowell


Nowadays there's always a "to."
For the last two years there's always been a "to."
From plane to plane and city to city I try to
not freak over the fact that my morning began
in Orlando, Florida but it'll end in Lowell, Massachusetts 
and really, why should that be weird?


There's something about normalcy and day 
to day that I search for and run away from. 
No one wants to do the same thing over and over
again but while I wait in New York to board I 
wonder what can I do to make it all normal


to make it all okay. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 22nd

Back again in Universal! This time my walk through the parks was less leisurely, but not less fun. Although I have to say, Mi Cariño and her parents totally pooped me out y'all. We woke up at the butt crack of dawn to be at the Park as early as possible. The goal: Harry Potter Land! Well, it has another name but I don't care enough to look it up. I was there last year and loved it, and it was the turn of Mi Cariño and her parents to see it for the first time.

There were a great many highlights, that I will not renumerate. Cuz I'm lazy, and I don't remember the names of things. Y'all, these parks are fun, but I needed some of Mami's sustenance food to get me through that. By the end of the night I was ready to pass out in the car, and that was without packing and all the goodness that I had to do before Saturday morning when I was due to leave for Massachusetts. Let's just hope I passed Mi Cariño's "theme park test."

Universal


The picture's somewhere in my house:
Jonathan, Javier, Amanda, Junior, and I
riding the electrical walkway to the land
of movie fun. Children all, then, 
some of us slightly less. 
I sat on the moving belt
black shorts, white T,
wire rimmed glasses
dimple on display. Months before
turning eighteen. Months before
understanding what "slipped disk"
"pressed nerves" and "disability"
really meant. All I wanted was to visit
the Xena: Warrior Princess exhibit, 
to ride,
ride, 
ride,
but I had to get off the moving belt
sometime. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 21th

Road Trip! We head to Orlando, for a shorter stay than I had originally planned, but it's all good, the family is game. Mi Cariño, her mom, her dad and I eventually manage to leave the house to head to Orlando. It's over three hours away from Miami, and it's a trip the family has done before. (A lot.)

The drive wasn't bad though, it's nice to sit in the back seat and just fall asleep and not worry about directions and get to munch on great goodies. We were hungry by the time we arrived though, and so after dropping bags and things of the sort, we had a quick dinner at Pei Wei.

Pei Wei, I'm told, is the "fast" version of PF Changs, another of Mi Cariño's favorite. You order, they bring it to your table... good stuff. We shared all of this:

First some salty Edamame

Vietnamese Chicken Salad Rolls (these were only okay)

Mi Cariño's favorite, Chicken Lettuce Wraps, which were quite yummy.

Afterwards we made our way to what I think was Downtown Disney. I suck at names of things. We essentially spent a couple of hours walking through a Disney Store and seeing some Disney things before heading for "real" dinner. At the Store I purchased a whole lot of goodies: necklaces for Brichelle and Brianna, (and a little doll for Brianna, too); presents for myself and for Mi Cariño. The necklaces were super cute but I'm sorry to say very cheaply done. Brianna snapped hers off a couple of hours after she started wearing it... I assumed that it was because she's tiny and totally rough with things. But Brichelle's necklace also snapped, and Bricho certainly wasn't going around pulling on the necklace. Boo, Disney!

In Any case, to dinner. We went to a place called BJ's. Looked like a chain, but I've never heard of it, so maybe it's just a really big sports bar place. Food:

Stuffed Mushrooms.

Something fried. Probably crispy onions type deal. Don't remember. Can't say I really enjoyed them.

Angel hair pasta primavera with garlic toast and blackened chicken. I thoroughly enjoyed this and would've easily eaten the whole thing if allowed.

After dinner we made it to Mi Cariño's brother's place, since he and his wife were kindly putting us up. We relaxed, watched American Idol and chatted a bit before going to sleep. It was a good, if busy day. I think a lot can be said about traveling and what it says about people. As a "professional traveler" I definitely believe that the simple act of going from one place to another can sometimes bring out the worst in people... you're not in your usual space, you have to deal with circumstances you weren't expecting, you have to think quickly and there's a lot of pressure to get things right, right away. I'm not trying to be humble when I say I'm a good traveler - it really is what I DO. Everything with being okay with traffic to putting up with planes leaving late, to children screaming around you and to your "co-pilot" getting the directions wrong - I've dealt with it all. Bad weather is by far the worst, but the second is a person that does not know how to travel. In any case, this diatribe is to say that I put a lot of weight on traveling and how people interact when they do; it's when the real you comes out! So this was an important day for me.

Running


Testify 
circles
over


over
water
sleep


deeply
for you. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 20th

This day was a very special day. This day, I was able to, finally, go to a Pita Pit.

You must understand, that Mi Cariño has talked about this place since our second date. I'm quite sure. If not then, then our third. This is a very much loved franchise.

We ate here late afternoon, the place practically empty. The look is very reminiscent of "healthy" fast food chains, ala Subway. I had a very healthy chicken pita with a very unhealthy sauce. I cannot remember the name of the Sauce. Y'all, I eat chicken in this sauce all this time, but can't remember it, because the thing happened over 17 days ago and I'm lucky to remember the lovely heat I experienced that day, so stop being so annoying about the details.

In any case, you essentially pick a protein and pack that pita up with all the healthy stuffing you'd like, like mushrooms and lettuce and tomatoes and peppers and onions and all that goodness. You can have all of that grilled if you'd like to. I had my fresh pita with some stale chips and a diet coke, because I'm trying to get myself used to not drinking regular soda. Boo.

My verdict: I made the wrong choice by choosing the sauce. Otherwise I felt that the Pita was delish and worth returning to. Why aren't there any Pita Pits in NYC? Maybe I should open a Franchise... how much are those? In any case, I'm glad it was good because I would've hated to have found that the place Mi Cariño had been talking about for so long sucked.

Measurements


Like flashes I remember
chopping vegetables for the locrio de vegetales:
carrots, celery, peppers and more
until finally the rice reached that deep 
brown orange color that can only be achieved with
salsa de tomate, ajo, sal, cebolla, un chin de aceite, 
and always, oregano. 


There were the days after school 
rushing to sprinkle brown sugar on hot oil
til it was the right brown
to coat the chicken with
to feed my brothers with
to leave the food on the pots so
Mami could serve me because


there's nothing so bad as cooking
and serving yourself. Like flashes I remember
slowly moving away from the kitchen
first by making desserts and then
by making


nothing at all. This is all to say
chopping ain't nothing if it means
having you around. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 19th

This had to possibly be my favorite day of the vacation - began with a slow morning, were we took our time getting ready. We breakfasted sometime around 11:30 (maybe much later) with some huevo frito con tostada cubana on my part (sorry, didn't take a picture of that lovely delicacy.) We made our way to North Beach somewhat slowly thanks to traffic, but the drive was worth it. Thanks to Mi Cariño's family, we had access to some private strip of the playa. View from above:

and also

and then the view from my chair

You can go ahead and be jealous at all that blue.

After a couple of hours enjoying the sun and the water, and failing to build a sand castle, we eventually made our way to Miami Beach, where eggplant pizza was purchased somewhere. I did not take a picture of the pizza, but it was very tasty.

Beach View


Through Palm Tree lined streets we drive, 
as you point to past apartments,
gyms, place of employment, 
the street you walked down to go to
the beach. 


I dreamed of two state living, where we chase the heat. 
I dreamed of two state living, where our kids had a yard,
my mother had a garden, 
I dreamed that I was able to say no and to say yes
when I wanted to


and then you turned the corner and point
to what could be a future. A room with a 
beach view. 
Baby, I know how to swim, 


but all this water really, 
really scares me. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 18th

All Mondays should be like this one. Slow and sweet, with only a responsibility or two to keep things from getting too sluggish.

For lunch we stopped by Las Islas Canarias, where I had me some Pan con Bistec, which is supposed to be some quintessential Cuban meal. Never heard of it. It was quite tasty, but there were no surprises... it tastes just as you would imagine it does.

Before the Bistec, however, I had this croqueta-like thing. I cannot remember for the life of me what they were. Obviously, although pretty looking, not very memorable. Yucca something? Who knows. The sauce was the good thing about it.

El famoso Pan con Bistec, came with some chips.

And now, to some poetry.

Boo!


I like
that we talk during movies,
that our fingers fight 
over popcorn,
that you'll always lean over
to kiss me
when the movie starts.


It reminds me of a time
back when our dates went by
number, and popcorn spilled,
slushie given and kisses
were new, you
leaned in to kiss and I 


leaned in to kiss and I
forgot for a second
or two
my name and 
social security number and
my city and state, please, 


because your lips are
delicious enough to scare away
knowledge, thought, fear


every time. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 17th

Little Girl I Wanna Marry You

My Barbies never married a Ken
or each other.
Afternoons in the backyard, they 
wore handmade dresses of original design, 
fabric full of late 80's loud Caribbean print -
multicolored large flowers on orange backgrounds - 
and worked as librarians, doctors, 
teachers, seamstresses, and sometimes
personal trainers.


When I tired of them, my dolls became
babies, little helpless children who lived with
their cool uncles. An uncle could hire 
a beautiful babysitter to care for them, leave
them behind at night to go on fabulous dates
with the tree trunks with names like 
Monica and Suzana, who were in turn
models, women of society, and once or twice
princesses. 


An Uncle could, at the end of a date
say goodnight to Suzana Tree Trunk with 
a demure peck that would turn into 
9 year-old lips brushing bark until raw, 
and suddenly Suzana Tree Trunk was not
as exciting as the possible librarian sleeping


and so an Uncle could say goodnight
and sated return to a home without princesses, 
only children happy to see him home. 
Never once did an Uncle think what would happen
if Barbie met another Barbie
and fell in love. 
© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 16th

Ah yes. This day was a half a month ago! But I will keep my promise of posting a poem for every April day, and since I did eat out, I shall post a picture. It was my first full day in Miami with Mi Cariño, and we began by having some Tostada Cubana for breakfast, which is really just Cuban bread toasted with butter, and then went to Pride Salon to get our feetsies prettyfied.
Soon after we left for Miami Beach, where the Miami Beach Gay Pride Parade was going on, and we had us a good time watching the homogays prancing around the place and I tried my hardest to get me some beads for once in my life and now they're sitting in my room doing absolutely nothing, cuz really what do you do with plastic cheap beads? But they're purple, so yay.
After lots of friend searching, walking around and general gaying of the self, we had some food at some restaurant on Ocean Drive. I do not remember the name. I do remember the pizza.

We went total veggie with tomato basil and mozzarella. Kudos to Mi Cariño for eating tomatoes.

The day went on in spectacular awesome fashion, with us heading back to the Salon to get our hair did and ending with a great get-together with a bunch of people that were nice to me even though they didn't have to, cuz they're cool like that.

This House

There are pictures in this house
of you and your brother, 
your "sisters," "your mothers," 
are all over this house. 
There are memories in this house
of love and pain, learning, giving,
these memories are breathing
all over this house. 

There is laughter in this house
deep within its walls
jumping out as loud as the fights
over this house. 
You're all over this house
in a way I once used to be in mine
and as I can find the teenage you 
hidden in the folds of the couch
I wonder how I fit in 
this house,


if I fit in this house
does that mean I don't fit in mine?
and will I ever be able to provide you
with what you found in this 
house?


Pictures, memories, laughter, 
"sisters," and "mothers," love and pain, 
learning and giving, walls that are breathing
with history and history and tell me will you 
cast me aside if we can't recreate
this house?
© Yazcaminante, 2011

 

Making Up is Hard to Do

Decided to continue on til I finish my 30 poems, even if it's no longer April. Doing great with Harry - will begin with Goblet of Fire a full week ahead of schedule, which will hopefully keep me in place once work and life gets really busy and the longer books come along. Haven't been doing great with the exercising - but every day is a new one!

Off to work I go.

April 15th

Your Hands

Carry with them my growth. On the palms
I can trace the first time I stayed
late at work, looking for overtime pay in every envelope
I stuffed. 
Near your thumb is my 20 year old self learning
to believe that God loved me, regardless of how my hips burned
at the sight of another woman. 
There's a squiggle near your wrist - it's me at 21, 
having wine for the first time, one afternoon after work
and there are so many firsts, so many lasts
some I'd forgotten until today when I watch your hands
place your oldest son in his car seat,
turn the wheels of your car - 
remember the first time you drove with me
in the passenger seat?
I wasn't allowed to speak, you were so nervous, 
afraid you'd do something wrong and hurt me,
we crossed the Williamsburgh Bridge in silence
riding in your dad's old car. 

Here I am, doing another first with you- 
vacationing with the "in-laws" - 
wondering if it'll always feel this way
if our children together will play
if things were really meant to be as you point
that our loves grew up less than a mile 
from each other, like our homes in Brooklyn
were, as you take me in your hands one 
more time before waiting for me to go inside
and drive away with my growth once
I walk in and wave adios.


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 14th

This is what I'm afraid of

Measuring tape in hand
the Miami-Cubans find me wanting.

Hands placed, 10 and 4,
incoming traffic, you in the passenger seat. 

Visit after visit on jobs.com
a big "no one wants" whatever I am sign.

 Mami, sad. 

Papi, sad. 

A Snickers Candy Bar

The Golden Arches surrounded by red.


Bit by bit, blood turning away from me
and "my kind". 


Discovering that my words mean
nothing. 

The worst fucking word in the world:
potential.

© Yazcaminante, 2011
 

April 13th

Some days

are longer than others
with hour after hour adding
minute after extra minute but
our watches don't notice. 

It's a conspiracy, you see
and since everyone looks at 
cellphones nowadays to find out
what time it is 
no one catches on to the fact
that 10:10am follows
10:10am as if it's never been

and I can't stand 10:10am
being the minute that never ends

and I can't stand some days
when all I can think of is you

and I can't stand when 10:11am
comes
and though time has passed
your absence still burns.

© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 12th

Turning 30

Little Myra, you're no longer in the picture
but your words live on in others
like pain reincarnation
revisiting.
She says "you're 30," like I've forgotten
my age and in the midst of my playfulness
talks about being a grown-up.

Can you see, little Myra, how I still hurt?
Hackles raised, I change the subject
because I can't deal with her words
and when the phone's turned off
I rattle on to myself
about multiple college degrees, 
12 years of full time work, 
paying for kiddie karate classes, 
mom's vacations, papi's new TV,
Angel's iPod, as if each item checks 
a mark and there I am again
17, after Mami's life changing surgery-
Little Myra, with her words
by now forgotten by her since unlike you
she didn't mean them
and yet she accomplished what you didn't then
because inside I am again
turning 17, and my Mami is hurt
and I don't know what to do.  

© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 11th

Pentecost
 
My first day cleansing
I leave the house with two
clear jugs, filled to the top
with chicken-broth like swimming inside.
"It's a Dominican Thing," Gaspar says
to my coworkers, who laugh
but wonder.
Each one holds 32 oz of water
8 tablespoons of lemon juice
8 tablespoons of maple syrup (grade b)
about a spoonful of cayenne pepper.
Each swallow is supposed to curb
hunger and cleanse me
of pounds of fat and the untold
impurities living inside me. 


It reminds me of prayer and of afternoons
with Mrs. White reminding me that the body
is the Temple
of the Holy Spirt
and to keep it clean meant more than
no tattoos or piercings. 


I'm stronger than my cravings
I think as I swallow,
knowing that if I were alone,
I'd be inhaling a Big Mac.
No way the Holy Spirit
can live here. 


©© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 10th

Spent the morning chillin' with my cousins in Philly, where I bonded with my cousin Anthony over all the traveling and the hustlin' for Airline Miles. Not bad.

Former Times


We remember
pelas, and tricks our parents
played on us, punishments
and school days. 
We remember
yaniqueques and how we
gleefully ate anything given to us
(if it was fried)
and how the dirty oil from
the corner chimichurri
made everything taste good. 
We remember
summers together, and the time
I made Anthony afraid of spaghetti,
how he still won't eat pasta,
and how when we all moved to NY
for once living in the same town
we saw each other less. 
I remember
years of hiding the self
and they accept that the self
wasn't so hidden after all
when I speak up my truth, 
Mami and Tia a room away, 
blissfully not understanding English. 
We agree
there's no telling Abuela
I'm gay. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011

April 9th

Sorry about the massive delay on posting all. I know, you've been waiting with baited breath. Saturday was a chill day, with the rare opportunity to actually wake up in my own bed and not have to run to go somewhere. I did a whole lotta nothing before Mami and I headed to Philadelphia to celebrate one of my niece's birthdays. This one just turned 4 and had her a Dora Birthday.

Family Time


Loudness
is just a word,
cacophony is more
like it. 


© Yazcaminante, 2011


Walked 4.0 miles in 60 minutes at 12:00pm

April 8th

Had a busy weekend and didn't take the time to upload poetry and what not. Friday, Ida and I had a date night, and it began with dinner at the Vegan Asian Fusion Restaurant Franchia. In efforts to have something different, I abstained from the dumplings and we had lettuce rolls.

They weren't exactly what we had been expecting, but they were tasty. We were a little scared about the hard noodles that seem to follow me everywhere. For an entree, I had the Vermicelli Noodle Bibimpap Stone Bowl with extra tofu. The Bibimpap was described as a Korean Health Staple consisting of rice and various toppings served in a bowl with sauce. It can be cooked on a stone bowl to make the rice crispy (which is just an interesting version of the Dominican concon I grew up with.)

It was very good and I ate every little bit. Afterwards we walked to Times Square to watch Hanna, the new movie with Cate Blanchett, Eric Bana and Saoirse Ronan. The main conceit is that Hanna is a teenager, raised in the middle of nowhere by his father, who has trained her to become a killer.

The movie was quite interesting and the soundtrack was CHILLING and quite appropriate. I totally bought skinny little Saoirse as Hanna - the combination of her ethereal look with some quick cuts and "demonstrations" of her strength made it easy for me to believe that she could kick ass. Dad Erik has trained Hanna to essentially kill Cate Blanchett's character whose name I don't remember. Marissa something, I think. Marissa is smart enough to not put herself in front of the child and so, Hanna kills a different woman and then escapes the hands of the CIA operatives. The movie then turns into the search for Hanna and Erik. Hanna and Erik in the meantime, are making their way through Europe to Berlin, so they can meet each other.

On her way to Berlin, Hanna runs into a vacationing English family, consisting of father, mother, precocious son and hella cute and funny daughter, who was really the funniest bit of the movie. I don't want to ruin her jokes by telling them to you, but she sure made me chuckle out loud.

At the end of it all, the movie was entertaining, looked beautiful but also as gruesome as one would expect. The only thing missing for me was motivation. Marissa didn't seem to have enough motivation for her actions, and she was almost just a caricature of an evil person, obsession with clean teeth included. The movie ends in an open note and we don't know what happens to Hanna, but I hope she goes to live a life full of sunshine and music.

In other note, I failed to exercise once again. For shame.

Escucha


Aquí estoy, y todo lo que queda
es la memoria de tu voz.


© Yazcaminante, 2011