Author María J. Estrada
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Un Blog de Writing Musings

99% Happy with I Read in the End

1/10/2017

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This version below is what I read last night.  I really worked on the pacing, and sans-microphone, I think people heard it and understood it.  I enjoyed the three minute challenge to read something new, and kept my intro comments brief.  That is not always easy for me because I tend to tell stories about inspiration.  (I didn't like the not having enough time to write, but I gave the poem my best effort and feel sparked to keep writing more, fiction or poetry or articles.)

It was also well received, and I even had a children's author, Kimberly Thompson give my kids her children's book.  She was moved by my poem.  How cool is that?  When I publish my book or novella or whatever, I'm going to be that person that gives it away to writers I like and inspire me at readings.  Probably not the younglings reading off their cell phones.  (Look at the audience for crying out loud!). Ha ha ha.

I also remembered another valuable lesson, and that is to always carry red lipstick.  I had to borrow some from a stranger, now friend.

Always carry your red lipstick with you.  You never know when you will have to read poetry.  #Resist
===
“True Faith in Unity”
by Dr. Maria J. Estrada
 
People say those in power will always eat a gluttonous feast of misery and profit.
 
The poor will always get poorer.
 
         They will be with us in the shanties of San Luis Rio Colorado, Sonora
                Where indias sell harsh mint chicles and Spiderman keychains to American tourists.
        
         In Gaslight District of San Diego, Califas
                Bleeding cardboard casitas and moldy sleeping bags of shame flap in the dry wind                
                Street


                                After street


                                                After street. 
 
Under Chicago’s viaducts, drivers sometimes share a look of meaningful sadness—between texts—maybe throw pocket change at single mother and prisoner toddler, in tent-home. 
 
The rich will forever gorge on the fruits of that Puritan zeal, anointed by years of
 
                                Colonization,
                                Slavery,
                                Repression,
                                Racism,
                                Misogyny,

                                For money

Tu bien sabes.
 
Y toda mi pobre gente? 
 
Que se chinguen! 
 
Dreamers?  Que se chinguen! 
 
In fact, fascists already rounding up criminals forever nationally tattooed--
 
                                Gangeros. 
 
Unions preaching that loving proletarian-arm in-arm solidarity forever?
 
 Que se chinguen!
 
Y Texas, Florida, Mexico,
 
Puerto Rico,


         Devastated, starving
 
         Commonwealth like Colony.  Like a Tourist Hacienda.
 
         You asking for some sustenance?  Quieres pan?
        
         Tu necesitas agua?  Some Aquafina in crystalline bottles?
 
         Te hace falta la luz for hospitals?  Para vivir?
 
Pues, Amen.
 
 
I look to my children, who fill me with so much esperanza, and I wonder at their celestial dreams,
 
                                Siempre soñando.
 
Seven year old son, prays every day,


                “Dear God, Please make Trump a better man.”
 
My heart laughs amazed at his Faith.
 
My two year old hijita so sweet, powerfully determined prays, for her friends, the scared, los zoo animals, las zebras, her light-up shoes. 
 
She knows nothing of Twitter terrorist threats, fake nuclear news against North Korea,

China,

                the Middle East.
 
                                Against You.   
 
Pues esta bien,
 
Let’s pray for our ruler enemies.
 
Let’s also pray for what could be
 
That Unity
        
Where the abundance that is now
 
         The technological splendor that is now
 
         Will be shared gratis y sin verguenza.
 
                  Unbridled and free for all to have
 
         And my children and your children and
 
                                                We
        
         —We won’t ever have to pray for their scraps anymore.    
 

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    Jesú Estrada
    Pen Name: 
    María J. Estrada
    Chicago, IL

    You follow me everywhere @drmariajestrada, except Twitter.
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    *********************
    MARIA J. ESTRADA is an English college professor of Composition, Literature, and her favorite, Creative Writing. She grew up in the desert outside of Yuma, Arizona in the real Barrio de Los Locos, a barrio comprised of new Mexican immigrants and first-generation Chicanos. Drawing from this setting and experiences, she writes like a loca every minute she can—all while magically balancing her work and family obligations. She lives in Chicago’s south side with her wonderfully supportive husband, two remarkable children, and a menagerie of animals.

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  • Home
  • Mi Biografía
  • Un Blog de Writing Musings
  • Author Interviews
    • Eric Allen Yankee
    • Mehreen Ahmed
    • Steve Carr
    • Martin Eastland
    • P.S. Malcolm
    • P.C. Darkcliff
  • The Harvested Draft
  • Books
  • Poetry
  • My Patreon Page
  • Useful Bits
  • Contact