Chicano Poet

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

East Of The Freeway Poetry Slam

in memory of El Tapon


my mentor is the barrio
its guts

its dilapidated houses
its dirty playgrounds

punks and just plain kids
high on something

colorized
by the color on my skin

automatic scum
if you will

I do not draw sustenance
from the past

I dive into the flooded arroyo
I rush into burning houses

the outside scars
fade with time

the inside scars
fester

contrary to popular belief
they do not make you stronger

I prosper in the barrio
because I am made of it

said the slam poet
busted lip bloody nose and all

2 Comments:

At 2:10 PM, Blogger Poetry From The Creek said...

While part of it you can be aloof of it, like the stopper in a bottle!

 
At 6:20 PM, Blogger RC said...

Hello,Ivan,hope you are doing good.

 

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