sjsprWriting

“Big time”

“Big time”

“Big time”

Says the girl with bad eyes and “what-the-fuck-curly-hair,”

strung along in her reggae riddims and illegitimate African roots too far to reach

for the sometimes funny girl.

Slap-in-the-face-break-bone-Hong-Kong-culture-shock for a soul doused in Viejo San Juan,

There are questions that I need to ask you. Questions that catch in my throat, smother me. Questions that haunt the silence between us. I should ask, I should have, but this is harder than I imagined. I think I do not want your answers. Not really.

Did she abandon you?

Funny how in 17 years, we can dance around issues with never getting to the main question.

How did you go from one mother to the other?

A businessman, a father, but a hard worker before all else.
A childhood filled with dreams and aspirations that grew as tall as the stalks of wild rice in the field surrounding him.
A severe case of wanderlust that not even his humble origins and lack of education could stop.
Gaining instead a PhD in survival, it was good enough for him, and in turn, his dreams finally took flight.

The first thing he saw when he began his new life as Sam was vermillion. To this day, he ...

Todas las mañanas amanecía

Teniendo en mente que tenía que hacer

El mismo deber de siempre

Ordeñaba las vacas

Recogía los huevos

Y le daba de comer a los cerdos, caballos y toros

Todas las tardes sentía

Una gran nostalgia

De una tierra nunca cultivada

Y caminaba por su jardín

Sembraba sus propios árboles

Arrim...

1. Cualacino

Coasters were never my friend

And your frustrated sighs became something I learned to ignore

For how important could it possibly be,

to place my wine glass on another flat surface?

Isn’t that what tables where made for?

Cualacino (n.) 

You read love poems and just continue living,
while every verse makes my breath wane and pulse wither.

You read poems and your day keeps going,
while every line, every word makes my world...

He had only just begun to pack his bags. She watched him, naked on the bed, thick, blackened tears running down her face.

“We could’ve made it work, you know?” he shot.

“No, no,” she whispered drunkenly.

She wobbled to her feet, and slugged on over to him. The sheets barely covered her. He stopped what he was doing, and merely watched her. Watched how she fell slowly to pieces. Watched how her pale skin throbbed with swirling intoxication....

Don’t Be

By Laura Camila Rivera

Esconde tus emociones

Don’t be such a ‘girl’

Se una mujer

Pero aféitate el cuerpo, te quiero suave como un bebe

No te vistas escasa

Don’t be such a ‘slut’

Se modesta

Pero quítatelo cuando te lo pide

No seas terca

Don’t be such a ‘bitch’

Se buena conmigo

Kvon had just recently finished his time machine, and set out to fulfill his life-long dream to live amongst the hippies in the 60s. Unfortunately, his time machine malfunctioned, and he was transported to Hitler's bunker, moments before he committed suicide. Kvon - being the good samaritan that he is - lunged forward and prevented him from killing himself, proceeding to talk him out of a depression that had left him and his Reich weak and powerless. Hitler, now a changed man, revitalized the...

My foot had left the grass, and I jumped as high as I could. I landed right beside you on a small wooden boat that jerked uncomfortably; drowned in countless oceans and spat out again, heading somewhere south of the ends of time. You’d been out there for a couple of millennia and the salt had cascaded your body into a cocoon, a shell to shimmer in the sun’s rays, and glisten in the moonlight. The sail was ragged and colorless, bleached in mist and sun-kiss. And yet, the wind ...