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Writer's pictureBloomfield College Underground

Two Poems from Yaritza Alcantara

How to Endure your first Visit.


The gray skies stretch

Bleak,

The icy wind ripping at my skin

It’s time…

No crying, no whimpering

It’s not allowed


Look forward

Towards the border

The giant gray gates glide,

Grunting and groaning.

Gears grinding against the grime

No fear,

Don’t blink

Just walk in.


Shuffle with the crowd

Like cattle to slaughter,

“No laces or phones”

NOT allowed

Wait for your turn…


HANDS UP!


Metal wand searching…

Probing…


Clear, keep it moving.


Enter the room and you see her,

Eyes lock on eyes

You feel it,

Hold it in.


Hold her close but only for 10 seconds

No contact, no connections

It’s not allowed!

Talk fast but honestly

Don’t dally on the tragedy

Tell her that everyone is doing good

And that you’re doing fine.

Don’t waste a second

Refresh your mind

Of your only protector.

RIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG!

the sound of the bell booms in the walls


Your time is over.

One last hug, and no turning back

No sobs, no crying


Its…not…allowed.


But…

Once alone…

In the comfort of your home


Release the grief


But never let them see


Don’t let them know…


And…


Let…


The…


Tears…


Flow.





 



Yes, I’m attracted to pots and pans.


We’ve come so far

Only for us to fall

Again, into our own ignorance

Into the lies and deceivers

Afraid of the what new

Not long ago we had judgement on people who didn’t follow the 10 commandments

They hated the feelings between two people

Then came the fight for freedom to love

Over blood and fire

Our rights finally heard

Yet once our voice was found

It was quickly shutdown

The very people who fought for love

Now spew hate

Pick a side

You can’t like both

You’re going through a phase

You’re giving us a bad name.

That doesn’t exist

I’ve heard it all

It all priced my heart

And sparked a fire

Who the hell are you to limit my feelings.

I cannot hold down my love.

My heart is open to all who welcome it

I don’t care of the arrangement of your chromosomes

Or how the world sees you.

What matters is how I see you

What we feel when we are with each other.

You have a dick, pussy, not sure, still questioning

just a regular person or mid transition

To me it doesn’t matter

That’s the mystery of you

That’s the mystery for me to discover.

Maybe to the world I do not exist

But my voice will never die

As long as I live.

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