poem1

Rican-Woman-Madness is Just Another Word for Love

Rican-woman-madness
is just another word for love,
she is born of the chains of slavery
and the genocidal history of the Taino
brushing furiously against
the backdrop of Spanish barbarism.

She is a fighter, warrior blood
oozes through her veins, fills
her womb and exits willfully
through the pounding of her heart.

She will have no qualms about
throwing out the man she loves,
if he comes swinging at her
with the metaphoric machete
of a hateful tongue.

No man who has loved a Rican woman
can forget the wicked lustfulness
and blessed grace of her sensuality,
she makes love in the living.

In her sacred land of histerica
(as we are often proclaimed),
no human emotion is denied,
all are welcomed and pursued
for the sheer pleasure of their sensation
rip roaring from our toes to the
ends of our frizzified rican hair.

Rican woman's rage runs deep,
but her love runs deeper,
she is the sensibilities of the
moon, sky, and earth combined,
they penetrate into the very core
of all lives natural existence
transmitting and receiving
a million and one universal vibrations
coming and going all at the same time.
The Rican woman is a wild woman,
it is true that she has been colonized
by the rabid thieves who stole her land,
and twisted her history to unrecognizable
proportions, but still and yet,
she refuses to be colonized in the spirit
and she will surely kill to protect
the integrity of the people's song.

But be not the fool and make no mistakes,
the Rican woman is about life and death,
if you desire death she will surely comply
with the fury of the betrayed on a killing rampage,
if you desire life, she will clearly oblige
with her sweet and wild Rican-woman-madness way.

The Rican woman
does not hold her tongue,
she will not permit you to toy
with the passion of her existence,
she refuses submission,
she will speak loudly until
she is buried underground,
and then she will return
to haunt you in your dreams.

The magical whiff of her presence
refuses to leave the scene once she is gone,
it will stay upon your clothes,
it will saturate your hair,
it will permeate your very being,
she will never let you forget that she exists.

So don't be deceived
by the Rican assimilated versions
who curtsey and roll around in the
bureaucratic red tape in disguise,
underneath the white-washed facade
hides a wild island spirit
that will not be domesticated,
weeping ceaselessly to be released.

Rican woman embraces her power as
the motherhood of all creations,
and she will follow the sweet sounds
of her children or her lover calling
"aye mamita" to the ends of the world.

In her negrita self, she is a vessel of love
and shimmering, unadulterated truth,
her truth is of radiant ebony black,
she is not of the sterilized, sophisticated
purity of the etherealized white light,
she is about gutsy, grimy, earthy truth,
the kind that is found beneath the thickness
of old toenails, in the very pit of underarms,
within the folds of fleshy skin, and between
the musty scent of warm full thighs,
hers is a truth of no return, no compromise,
that liberates and frees enslaved black and
brown brothers and sisters who weep
and pray and sing to Chango in the dark

Rican-woman-madness is just another form of love
that is so easily misunderstood, feared, and
tyrannized by those who do not know how to
read the vital signs of a Rican-woman-madness,
a love that lives in the midst of anguish and joy,
all wrapped up together in the urgency and
delight of her salsa island gyrations.

Rican woman is a volcano,
her anger is legitimate
for she is tired of the bullshit
cover-up reality of a so-called
culturally diverse rhetorical world,
her struggle is legitimate
for she cannot live in a world of pretense
and colorized marginalization,
her love is legitimate,
for she cannot live in a world of lies.

Rican-woman-madness
is just another word for love,
a love that needs open, flowing life in
all its shapes and far reaching dimensions,
a love that will accept nothing but today
and refuses to be appeased with
translucent promises of tomorrow,
a love that will no longer tolerate the forces
of human cruelty and injustice,
a redemptive love that is completely
stripped naked and fully present
just for the asking,
(if you dare).