Tagged Malinche

Soundless Song of the Corn Maiden

She stood there at the top of the mountain overlooking the valley The city and all its people inside. A skin tight black dress flowing flowing, breathing, as she stares up to the cosmos and brings down her clenched fists- and soon the sky burst forth and you heard that first damning sound of thunder while the acidic scent of moisture in contact with earth entered your nostrils, as she cries out in pain, “Bring on the storm! I, simply known as Malinche, who rides the winds as swift as justice, am opening up these vaults of pure and utter…

Puga Nini Sha’de Butterfly Dance

She thinks, ‘I can do it,’ as a vibrant, deep and fluorescent butterfly floats over her head. ‘I shouldn’t have to hide who I am. This is my reality- this is my truth. Just my presence alone brings with it the entire weight of the mistakes of the Movement and the reason why true liberation has not yet been achieved. So my truth now becomes your truth.’ This tragedy alone has morphed me into a new being. Like the violent hacking of the wood, the splintering and breaking apart of its body- for all to watch in deep fascination- when…

To My Daughter

Mijita,   we are the in between neither black nor white   we are the mud the mix between the menstrual flow of the planet and the machismo ground beneath our feet   we are the brown the piece of construction paper that is thrown away the ugly created when mixing too many colors the only crayon chosen when coloring Martin Luther King or dirt   we are the cockroaches despised and disgusted but even with the bam of a stomping manly foot we refuse to die   we are the voice of the wind loud and undesirable yet never…

Anonymous is a Woman

Why do (some) people keep complaining that those of us writing original work for this blog are choosing to remain anonymous? Why are you so uncomfortable? Is it a problem because we don’t need credit for our words? Are you disturbed because our egos don’t need stroking with pats on the back and high-fives? Does it bother you to not have a specific target to aim at when you disagree? Are you afraid that it’s your sister, your girlfriend, your mother who’s writing — and you don’t know? We speak collectively because of our politics. We do not claim authorship…

Chicana Anger

People might not understand my anger, my rage. They see a white girl with vaguely dark features….she could be Hispanic or Greek. Well motherfuckers, I am both Chicana and Greek! And a mescla of some bastardized white bastard. The color of my skin doesn’t do me justice. I’ve assimilated into two cultures I was born into; I am a mutt, a mulatta. But to my gente, I am someone to look at cautiously, even when I’ve been vouched for. Then they realize I’m as dark as they, but still translate things to me. ¡Comprendo putos! Are you not listening to my Southside…

I am the Malinche

I am the malinche   Bitch who took the ‘good fork’ with flowers etched on the ends This selfish act justification for sharp points (plain… no flowers) thrown at my skull [bitch] ‘Mijita, give him the nice one’ Your fault [bitch]   I am the malinche   Bitch hiding in my room because our hallway is too small for us both and he is above me I need to move. Make room. [bitch] Plus I got shit to take care of in here Skin red, slits of color, marks from rusted razors—get it out before you go out. Make no…

La Malinche

Yo soy la Malinche. My people called me Malintzín Tenepal the Spaniards called me Doña Marina I came to be known as Malinche and Malinche came to mean traitor. they called me—chingada Chingada. (Ha— ¡Chingada! ¡Screwed!) Of noble ancestry, for whatever that means, I was sold into slavery by MY ROYAL FAMILY—so that my brother could get my inheritance. … And then the omens began—a god, a new civilization, the downfall of our empire. And you came. My dear Hernán Cortés, to share your “civilization” —to play a god, … and I began to dream … I saw and I…