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"I am inspired by the

silent and silenced voices

of history and herstory." 


WELCOME my world where I see the world in a word. To the Aztecs, prayer is "word and breath." For me, poetry is word on breath.


A poem lives on the breath. Poetry has been embodied through the human voice and shared communally since the Bronze Age.


In our digital age of quick soundbites, I invite you to indulge in a poem's luscious language and layered thought. And I encourage you to concoct your own.

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The cry that ignited Mexico's fight for independence, the cry of joy at fiestas.


Grito poetry: I cry out poetry to rebel against injustice, to celebrate life.


the small claim of bones


 what my body knows

is not a lie   it’s not

a lie i tell you   it is not

it’s nothing short of truth

and nothing larger                  

my past lodges                                   

in my marrow   and if     

i wanted a transplant

there’d be no match 

others’ sorrows dwarf

my petty traumas   still

these bones are mine

when they creak

when they moan

when they whine

there’s only one thing

i can claim   these bones

are mine i tell you 

they are mine   and kind

to abandon no thing

that makes this pulse

no one but me

-from the small claim of bones 
(Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe, 2014)
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