How knitting made me go insane

My mind yelled "Michaels is open!!" 
My body quivered with excitment as the smell of creativity filled my nostrils.
Boom!  The colors ran through.
My eyes were filled with wonder and excitement.
"All the possibilities are endless", I chimed.
As a child awes at the first discovery of Santa Claus, so was I.
I eagerly looked through aisles
Trying to decide
"Shall I paint?  Shall I knit?"
Canvas after canvas
Sketchbook after sketchbook.
I am adorned with crafts and imagination.
Stickers and stamps
Ribbons and bags of wedding decor.
Cake ornaments.
I make notes "Those brownie cutters for the movie night meeting"
As I come across the aisles trying to decide my move of attack
I see my destiny.
I see the calling.
I see - YARN!
Rows and rows of yarn at my disposal.
Organic (huh?), baby yarn and bright-colored yarn.
Books and needles hanging from the shelves.
At that moment, I decide to learn how to knit.
So what?  Men don't knit?  Bulls**t!
I was going to change the stereotype.
MEN - CAN - KNIT!
I race home with my How-To kit in my bag.
I pick up just one black, ebony-colored ball of yarn (on sale, of course).
I sit and ponder.
The scarf I will make.  Delicious it shall be.
Follow the instructions - penciled illustrations.
Failure.
Again, cast on, simple knit, continental...strange language filling my foggy brain.
Failure.
Two hours later - PSYCHOSIS!
Moral of the story?
Maybe crocheting is my calling.

Live Your Beliefs

There is an issue that many do not speak of but many go through and I need to make it an open topic of discussion.  It's the issue of being gay and a believer in Christ.  To many people, that seems to be a contradiction or a closed case - damnation.  Others believe that they go hand-in-hand.  I am not here to say anything about either side.  What I do want to talk about is the so-called "Christians" that damn gay people for being gay.  I don't care what you believe in or what God you pray to.  What I do not appreciate is the condemnation "Christians" inflict on gay people.  Especially those who struggle with being gay and who believe that being who they are makes them Satan's child.  How dare you! 

I have a friend who has been in a non-stop struggle with being gay and a Christian.  He is a true man of God and will do anything for Him.  If God would tell him to go drop everything and preach to people in a Third World country, he would drop and go.  He has always felt depressed and evil for having these feelings towards men.  He has gone through a history filled with suicidal thoughts, reckless behavior, and self-flagellation of some sort.  Recently, he has taken life by the horns and has decided to live life happy.  All his life he has lived in a black hole and he decided not to take it any longer and be happy.  People around him are telling him that he is not gay and that he has to pray more.  They tell him that he is not trying hard.  My message to them is "STOP!"

Stop telling him who he is.  Stop saying things that are not helping to support him.  Stop saying you are Christians when all you are causing is grief and heartache and pure simple sadness.  How can you even begin to understand what kind of life it is to have people all around tell you that what you are feeling is not right in the eyes of someone who you would die for?  How can you understand being conflicted and not being able to tell anyone how you felt because of fear that you will not be accepted?  How can you understand not being wanted?  To those individuals, you cannot understand.

I hope in reading this you will begin to love my friend and be there for him.  If you do not agree with who he says he is, then keep silent and pray.  He does not need to hear you say he is not who he says he is.  Who are you to say that?  Please let him be.  Pray for his safety.  He has no family or support where he lives so be his family.  You do not have the right to declare an identity on someone - ANYone!

Live as a Christian if you say you are.  Live as a Muslim if you say you follow Islam.  Whatever you believe in, live your beliefs.  All religions point to loving humanity.  Love it.  That's all you need to do.

To my friend, I love you. 

Why do we de-value?

I have been hearing all this talk about Obama and his "worthiness" of receiving the Nobel Peace Prize.  Rachel Maddow talked about the Obama Derangement Syndrome (check it out here)


What gets me pissed off is the fact that we cannot support our nation's leader in anything.  The propaganda being created for the conservative side is tremendous and outright disgusting.  What opponents of the Obama Administration has to do is realize that we need to back up the Commander in Chief.  Whether we disagree or not with his platform or with the way he is running the country, we have to create a unity that makes this country as strong as it claims to be.  Without being united, we cannot be powerful.  Leave behind the negativity and support President Obama.  A peacemaker is someone who tries to obliterate the barriers layed out but oppression-makers.  Obama has done this before and after his presidency.

On the weekend of the March for Equality in Washington, D.C., we need to remember that there is so much to be fought for.  The battle is not over.  We have too much to fight against that a bunch of right-wing conservatives creating a food fight.  Stop it!  Carajo!

¡Yo Soy Boricua! ¿Y que?

¡Yo Soy Boricua! ¿Y que?
Just 'cus I don't have the right acento
Or callos on my feet from walking around the campos
Or know how it is to live as a jibarito
Does that make me an automatic gringito?
So what? I don't have stories of chasing down lagartijos
Or climbing las palmas for some coquitos
Or listening to Don Bernardo tell of his days as a huelfanito.
My stories are of chillin' in the old casitas
Chasing down waterbugs and ratoncitos
And listening to crazy old Papito
Telling about how "Rikers, La Roca, is not joke, 'manito".
As salsa y plena filled the background and saturated my soul.

I got callos -- on my hands, though
From climbing cement walls in the barrios
Got memories of playing manhunt, freeze tag, and dominoes.
You have stories of chupacabras.
I have stories of Carmen, la puta, that chupacabrona!
So, you come from the pueblo and used to chill in the plazas.
Does that make you the owner of the Puerto Rican raza?
But you still say I don't have the cojones to milk a vaca.
Do you have the cojones to dodge bullets and crackheads
And the landlord 'cus Mami didn't pay the rent yet?
Yeah, you speak better Spanish than I do
But I can be mad fluent when I'm cursing you out, cuernú.
Mangos, pasteles, lechon, surrullos.
Whether you like it or not, somos hermanos, te lo juro.
Yo tengo la mancha del guineo in my heart, kid.
The orgullo to be boricua in Nueva Yol' is part of my heritage.
The same blood fows through both our veins
So, don't think because you were born on la isla
That it makes you more boricua than me
'Cus Puerto Rrrrrico was born in me and lives within me.
To be boricua is not about location, but about spirit.
So that's why I can say
¡'Chacho! ¡Yo soy boricua! ¿Y QUE?

My First Attempt at a Love Poem

Fiery, ice-blue spheres glisten in the sunlight
Stare at me in concentrated thought with insight
Their fire melts my inner self and I am submerged
In a pool of scorching blood as a faint voice whispers a dirge.

This love is captivating and invigorating to my soul
Zaps of electrical comfort seal up my bleeding hole
A hole developed from lost years without knowing this entity
That has entered my life and seems to remain with certainty.

A voice that gyrates my heart in my chest cavity
Captures my spirit and informs me of love’s authenticity
Of how righteous this vibrations’ message really is
And how fortunate my life now, and to come, is because of all this bliss.

Trying to remember what extraordinary deed was committed
For my life to receive all this splendor embedded.
My soul laughs in a child’s fragrant voice
As it thinks of how precious and blessed to receive God’s perfect choice.

Bonjour

I know you have been to many other sites, blogs, etc. and figure this is just another blog. It may be. But, for me, it's my form of having a voice. I have always dealt with things in very unpredictable ways. I would either freak out or just take it easy. Nevertheless, I react. Regardless my reaction, I have incorporated writing in my life.
Writing is my escape; my refuge. It has never let me down and has always made me feel better about a situation/thought/scandal. I can remember as a little boy in school in the Bronx writing about so many things. I would write about my mother, abuelita, and imaginary friends. I would make up stories and giggle to myself. I always had some creativity waiting and yearning to come out. Even when situations were not of the best quality, writing would release those anguish-filled times and all seemed to reconcile.
I discovered spoken word poetry about 5 years ago when I nervously decide to visit an open mic event at the Queens Theater in the Park. One of my favorite poets, Emmanuel Xavier, was hosting and it was my chance to deliver my thoughts. I had always wanted to be a part of this ever evolving art form but never thought my writings were any good for that venue. With reservations (and support from friends), I entered the small, intimate room and began my journey in tot the spoken word world.
That night was a catalyst! the audience's reaction was unexpected. They laughed at the right moments. The "Hmm'ed" and the right moments. At the end, they applauded and affirmed my place in this art. At that moment I felt welcomed. I felt welcomed into a world of impossibilities. I could spill my mind onto paper and share with the world. People may relate. People may not. But, I was created. The poet in me was released and from that moment I was transformed.
I am a poet. Whether I want to be or not, I am that. Much more comprises this body but the poet lives within.
Here's to all the inner talents waiting to flourish inside you. Cheers!