Una Terapia escrita por Luis E. Cuevas Jr.
(03-2020-08-2020)
What do I see?
I saw my mother’s hand as she reached down at me to take me to the world of love. We would start off at our apartment building 345 S Columbia, and 3rd Street make our way up Loma and down toward 6th Street. Every block turned into a new world, a new gang with its set of words scribbled juvenile like on the walls. With ugly men groping at my mother from the storefronts, calling out in pleas and promises that they would not know how to keep if she took them up on their infantile yells. What do I see? I see that they have all but forgotten us. Wither, on your way down to the ground, you might be able to get one last look at the Hollywood sign. I see the park, now a police station on Loma Drive, and the KFC where a man so quickly destroyed my pride. I see Jon’s Market with its tiny parking lot one day fitting for goodwill. I see Maggie’s Donuts, where my father would drive to every morning before work. I feel my mom’s hand tremble as we go deeper into 6th Street, and the horrible men become braver. I see construction across the Street where one day they will have an over stuffed food-4-less. I see the Chinese food place on 6th and Burlington that had musings and rumors about rats through my childhood. I see a check-cashing place where strangely, I had debts and accounts before I could even masturbate. Once we’ve crossed Burlington, I get the smell of ashes from the mothers and unborn babies burned alive. (to be continued)
Lo Que Pretende El Silencio
El silencio es valoroso es El respaldo de la sabiduria del concociemiento
Hay que mentira, El silencio Pretende razon
El silencio es el sello permanente sobre la cadena perpetua
El silencio es El dedo incidice de harpocrates cubriendo la boca
El silencio es ser victima ante tu abusador
El silencio es El perder la respuesta a las preguntas que hace la vida
El silencio es ser complice con la maldad El ser nada entre masas
El silencio solo Pretende encontrar El momento adecuado para hablar
El silencio no es ser civilizado si no ser amenazado y penado por no saber mas que lo que miras
El silencio guarda rencor y cobardes El silencio nos mantiene sin Salida
Sin communicacion sin la palabra necesaria nunca encontraremos El siguiente Paso
El silencio arde y se Oye la tristessa de miles de almas que fueron olvidadas en El aullido del silencio
Untitled #2
Well, I wanted to cry when I saw you exclaim and joy
Debilitated cross that I hung my soul upon
With your hair waved goodbye like yesterday and yesterday, it always hurts
Today, you made desire come alive
When you build and build, I can not see what it has become
What you write recounts glory and a gory future
I said I’d come apart to have a place in your heart
You just go, and that is a taunt in itself
Uncovered, I would like to heal you, lay across my lap
Those lips I’d like to have them mark my skin
Distances across your body I would love to touch
If this persistence is for nothing, I guess we gave the air too much.
Damning, in that chess you play, I lose it all.
If these are aches, aches, they turn over all the same
I could see you for what you are only to never see you again
In that cold state, you stare and smile and wave
I come up from nowhere as nothing
Dare you to love me, it would be nice
Let’s be good human beings. Let’s begin to feign the lie
Trespassed days that come apart, daggers in hearts and thorns in the eyes
To Disappear
(05-14-20)
Leave gone so that there is nothing left
Sick with despair and the high chair of my pain
Out of touch with the song that played to pews of my hurt
A haunting choir that has grown mute
I turned to each face wrinkled in "why's?"
They rub their moist eyes turned wet from the torment of their cries
In a long line to receive that will of the martyr
Within that black reason, I see that unstable abyss.
Cracking at the seams, I'd take a hammer to reason, but it doesn't quite work that way.
The approach is another failed lesson, and my escape is another empty dream.
Like the one where I was loved and needed now just a finite thread within Atropos hands
In the cold haunt of the night, I wish she would just cut me out.
The ins and outs of judgment and what another human can and can't admit to itself is damning.
As the ground crumbles, you notice wherever you stand eventually breaks Into the ground or into the water. The blue shakes and rumbles like air.
The burnt smoke from the bones that once kept you upright.
To disappear is just as it is now, and it will be at the end
A great vanishing act, a beautiful Renaissance a masterful entanglement across the vein of eternity
hoping that maybe I'd grow on eternal and be the first to not die
Worry weighs, and this young pain fails to fade
I wouldn't want to live a day over a proper grave
To disappear would be to disappoint, and it would be unfathomable
Don't worry, they don't want me over there either
A magic trick, it's time.
I have been preparing my final act with dexterity and no compromise
I have learned the ins and outs of loss
The vestibule toward the throes of hell
The price of a biased judgment
The fall of a human being
The prize of a compromised dream
The fall of a human being
Suerte
Pesa lo que me dijiste en los pasillos de mi mente
Que si se que e tenido suerte y la justicia se mese a mi lado
No, no todo que se arrima me llego a subir a mi plato
Todavía se me antojan unas cuantas cosas que no trago
Si la suerte en el sentido que tuve padres que me quisieron
Que desde mi comienzo nunca me levantaron un dedo o me negaron una lección
Un padre humilde y orgulloso todavía oigo su sonrisa, “ándale ese es mi gordo”
Una madre llena de charisma y aguanta hasta este día por nosotros
Suerte que me e mantenido saludable
Que todavía traigo una mente que se anima a crecer
Un corazón que aunque duela se anima a caer
Unos ojos con tanta curiosidad todo el mundo quisieran ver
Suerte, suerte si me comprometí a escribir muy joven
Encontró todo lo necesario en las palabras
La única alimentación que necesito
Me siento hombre de linaje celestial cuando levanto la pluma
Suerte ya mero me enoje cuando me lo dijo, pero si se le llama a las cosas que uno no puede controlar la suerte
Todo lo otro ya e tomado esa suerte y le ando sacando más
Me entiendes o no
Me repetimos o nos colgamos con mi situación
La suerte es algo difícil de entender se le dice suerte al que nunca a tomado un trago o sufrido de las drogas?
Ese será una decisión que yo ordene desde hace tiempo
La suerte mi mantuvo tempranito en la escuela me hacia mi tarea? Me levanta a aprender?
Tal vez sea la disciplina que cultiva mi vía solitaria
La suerte vio una película cada día? Empezó a escribir guillones?
La suerte que se fue a esa intrevista para un trabajo el día antes de que iban a enterar a su padre
La suerte que sobre sale la suerte que cruza la calle cobarde
La suerte que escribió miles de poemas y tomo miles de fotos?
Si
Si
Si
Si tengo suerte, pero también me tiene a mi