The picture I have of women, is undoubtedly what I learned from my Mother, her legacy. She once told me that every smile of independence and rights in a woman’s face, was one less tear in her eyes. Today, I would rather just tell her that I finally get it! Smiles like these can take more than a day or a month. It will at least take my whole existence! _ Raul Jorge Neto
literature
Happy International Women’s Day!
Who is she?
She is my sister, my mother, my friend
my body and my homie!
She is my true blood
my main squeeze.
She is the one who knows,
the one who understands, well…
at least she pretends
for a day, an hour, minute and second
for weeks gone down.
With a full force of a speeding train,
a hurricane
she marches in with a vengeance
at whatever and whenever,
and stays in
even if not invited.
She is your good friend
a sincere agent
day and night
without a price.
She does not judge but
listens intensively
and does not blame
just praises.
She does not interrupt but
is always there, ready for the next round.
She does not instruct and never hangs up – the
phone, there is.
She always remembers
your address
your birthday
your celebrations.
She always stays in touch
is the first to arrive
the last to leave
always there!
She is my sister, my mother, my friend
my partner, my cousin, my aunt, my grandma;
she is my body, my homie, my sista
she is my true blood and
true self!
She is a woman and a friend!
©Angela Aguiar
Share this:
Happy National Poetry Day!
Today, we celebrate National Poetry Day. Hope you are sitting in a corner of your favorite room. On your favorite chair. At your desk at work or school break reading your favorite poem. At the library or bookstore picking up or downloading a great poetry book. Plan to make it a beautiful day, night, once you get home from whatever. Whatever your plans, make it awesome, enjoy it. Let it lose. Search for its meaning, its interpretation, the writer’s message. Hear its musical hymns. Don’t miss the point. Decode it. Don’t assume. Live it. Fill your tank up!
Humor Him!
He went to the supermarket yesterday
and he fastened his seatbelt.
He reached for his pocket, but it floated-
no token left!
Unable to count the coins, he was left
to bargain for the delights of the open market:
the exquisite strawberries
the ecstatic colors of the grapes
the aroma of an orange dazzling him
radiant and awesome dishes.
The fresh and gorgeous leaves
delicious aromatic drinks filling the handsome racks
all kinds of stunning meats
rich and varied seafood
elegant poultry parading the embellished shelves
just like a fashion show unveiling the latest craze-
the greatest foods of the summer-
the emporium was mannered, gay, sunny, enthusiastic, and vicious,
accessorizing the environment
like perfect music personifying the deserving mood.
He gratefully sampled the food
his taste buds salivating
envisioning his next dinner.
With the refrigerator uninhabited,
he abstained from his daily indulgences.
Parleying Français, the beautiful French bread
arrogantly smirked.
Breaking the news
the magazines harmonized.
The paper accessories crying out:
“Pick me, pick me,” sang.
Peeking vitamin conscious tofu food also
let its groove be known.
Seeing none of his tears lingering,
“No cash back?” they inquired,
packing the minute grocery
the elder smiled.
Longing for last-minute refuge
he hastily zipped through the store
envisioning the needful components
he exited with no pain at all, staring at the reality.
© 2007 Raining in May by Angela Aguiar
ludlum drive 
You must be logged in to post a comment.