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Steve and the Beast

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Steve and the Beast  Written by, Ph.D  Rafael Monserrate .   The following is a fictional story inspired by real events in collaboration with the poet, Sergio A. Ortiz Rivera. _________________________________ The first time Steve saw the beast he was 4.5 years old.  He had a dream where a roaring beast approached him.  He woke up crying, scared.  His parents punished him “unnecessarily” for waking them and his baby brother up. Steve was of small build, 1.09 meters tall, slim, light brown skin. Fear and anger are still part of his life.  His body shook whenever he tried to get comfortable on the floor of the closet where his mother locked and tied him, body and hands, ordered by Erin, his stepfather.  Fear and uncertainty slept and woke up in Steve's bed.  At his young age he knew that he was in danger. Anything could happen, like getting killed, if his stepfather got really upset.  He'd be blamed and locked in the closet again, a representation of loneliness and is

Juglar esquivo con voz de melao

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Juglar esquivo con voz de melao  Un paso adelante y olvidó a dónde, por qué, y para qué estoy cambiando.  Reconoceré mi camino feliz  siempre y cuando pueda alcanzar  un par de estrellas fugaces montado  sobre panqueques  de mantequilla dulce con peras duendecillo,  leche y miel, camino al cielo. Dos pasos hacia atrás,  me creció barriga después  de los de los cuarenta.  Nuevos sueños ocupan viejos espacios. Me detengo,  nado como una tortuga hacia nuevas aventuras  de corto plazo. Noches  de helada luna y muerte. Rebosante de atención plena,  trabajo, tejo, cambio la decoración  de la sala, mi nave espacial, viajo. El tiempo me clava al caobo de nuevas visiones. Sencillas puertas  que abren hacia mi jardín de helechos donde damos vueltas  y aspiramos el fuego de la rueda  encendida que nos une. Me quedé calvo, escribí  cientos de versos. Canciones de amores truncados   para calmar tormentas inolvidables. Amor entre dos hombres,  prisma de colores entre el kaki y el blanco.

Amor Fati, Sunday Target Practice

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  Amor Fati, Sunday Target Practice  Staring at the spiral staircase,   at the top   a broken statue of venus worships  and devours her own blood.  She's faceless. Bullets, knives, bombs, gas chambres  stuck to her teeth.  Electricity down. A flip-flop narcissistic battalion, shows no mercy, no compassion. The scales of justice are colorful white silver star-studded  canyons covered in satanic graffiti  aiming from her lifeless mouth. She lives again as a Lazarus.

La Resaca, Undertow Poetry — First Issue

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“Equality means more than passing laws. The struggle is really won in the hearts and minds of the community, where it really counts.” – Barbara Gittings  "La igualdad es mas que simplemente pasar leyes. En realidad, la lucha estriba en conquistar los corazones y las mentes de la comunidad, ahi es donde cuenta." — Barabara Gittings Karlo Sevilla Dear Aesthete,  This Could Turn Deadly   You whisper to me that the lonely firefly that blinks and dives down the undergrowth is a teardrop of a broken star.   And this same night amidst the chaos, the infant’s soft laughter is the chimes of a miniature carillon — the last music her mother shall ever hear now that the martial knocks tremble the wooden door.   And you yourself have long realized that you will stand up against injustice no matter the cost, because the most beautiful thing in this life is to do what is right even at supreme sacrifice. © Karlo Sevilla Philippines  Karlo Sevilla of Quezon City, Philippines is th

International Human Rights Art Festival

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I'm going to be attending this Human Rights Art Festival in NYC. They are publishing one of my poems.