Friday, August 21, 2020

Tu muñequita



Papi... ¿Recuerdas el día en que nací?

Cuando anunciaste un niño 

Y la vida te dio una niña,

Cuando dejaste tus carritos 

Y me diste mis lacitos,

Cuando dejaste de lado peleitas

Y abrazaste a tu muñequita.


Papi... ¿Recuerdas la primera vez que me caí?

Cuando lloré y lloré

Y me pusiste una curita,

Cuando grite y grite

Y me cantaste la ranita,

Cuando te mostré donde dolía,

Y lo sanaste con “muchitas”.


Papi... ¿Recuerdas cuando fui a la escuela?

Cuando me llevabas de la mano

Y yo contenta con mi “loncherita”,

Cuando agarre mis cuadernos,

Y los pusiste en mi mochilita,

Cuando mi mamita hizo mis cachitos,

Y tú dijiste “Qué bonita”.


Papi... ¿Recuerdas mi primer regalo?

Cuando te di esa corbata con escarchita

Esa que guardabas en tu oficina,

Mis primeras notas y dibujos

Donde te escribía cuanto te quería,

Mis besos y abrazos cuando te veía

Porque siempre me veías y sonreías.


Papi... ¿Recuerdas cuando empece a crecer?

Cuando me dijiste que podía

Y soltaste mi manito,

Cuando me mostraste la vía,

Y me dijiste “yo te cubro”,

Cuando me miraste lleno de valentía,

Y me dejaste volar aun entre lágrimas.


Papi, yo recuerdo todo...

Ese todo que representas tú 

Y que me da alegría,

Ese todo que aprendí de ti 

Y de tu paciencia infinita,

Ese todo que llevo dentro de mí 

Y por el que siempre seré tu muñequita.

Thursday, August 13, 2020

The Grasp of My Soul

Photography took and edited by and from Madelaine Bustamante.

‪“I believe you deserve to die,” Claudia said drunk with anger.‬

‪“It’s okay,” Natasha answered. “It doesn’t really matter.” She said unaffected. “In the end... don’t we all die? What’s the big deal over a couple of days more? What an absurdity.” And sighed.‬


‪— The Grasp of my Soul‬.

Saturday, August 8, 2020

The fog

Mom, was I broken when I was born? 

His eyes refuse to see mine, 

And fate conspires against us. 

Mom, did I break him? 

He told me he was already broken when we met, 

I was too busy protecting myself,

I didn’t even know I could hurt him, 

You forgot to mention others have feelings.


Dad, why can’t I call him?

Why am I being ostracized by him like this?

Where is the forever I was promised?

Why wouldn’t he discuss this with me?

I thought we should talk about our difficulties.

Dad, you and he always talking about diplomacy

As if I am too quiet and need to share my fears,

But now there’s only silence and everything seems unclear.


Mom, where is that secret unguent you told me

That one should apply and would heal him? 

The magic balm that treats deep injuries 

And brings peace and happiness.

Mom, was that I lie for me to stop crying?

I am not a child anymore, you can tell me.


Dad, please come and talk to him,

Maybe if you do it, he might listen.

Dad, why can’t his eyes be opened?

Is it true that he die when I wasn’t seeing?

Or was it me? Was it me the cold body

Left alone to perish in the forest?


Mom, please come and talk to him,

Tell him that we should not fight for this,

Better to hold hands and sign for peace,

Didn’t you say you like him?


Dad, tell me can’t he listen to me?

Did the evil witch block his way to me?

Or did the good one come to rescue him?

Maybe it is me... maybe I can not listen.


Mom, if he is a “poor man”

Am I a pitiful woman?

Dad, dad look at me,

Dad, dad can you see me?


Mom, am I still here or did I leave with him?

Mom, if I speak louder can you hear me?

Dad, whether I died or became invisible...

The fog of the night confuses me.



I couldn’t

 But how could I ever make you understand?

I couldn’t give you the flowers

without you feeling the thorns;

I couldn’t give you the love

without pieces of hate;

I couldn’t give you the health

without some moments of illness;

I couldn’t give you the best of me

without giving you the worst.

I am a coin and both faces count.


Even if I were to hold your hand,

and explain you with tender words,

the reality of my nature and yours,

the shock of my feelings and yours,

the illogic of this life, 

the reasoning and this losing battle.


[Incomplete, maybe]

Monday, August 3, 2020

Isabella


Isabella...
Isabella, please don’t grow up too fast.
Don’t go to the Toddlers class. 
Don’t turn two years old. 
Don’t run yet, you just learned to walk.

Isabella, please don’t grow up too fast.
Don’t stop being picky with your food.
Don’t stop taking long naps.
Don’t stop following Jaleh around. 

Don’t stop coming to me
When I open up my arms. 
Don’t stop smiling at me
When you see me around. 
Don’t stop putting your arms up
When you see me passing by.

Isabella, please don’t grow up too fast.
Let me sit down to play with you one more time,
Let me sing to you this new song I memorized,
Let me tell you that I love you and smile.

Isabella, please just grow up whenever you want.
Don’t listen to my childish fears,
Don’t worry about how I may feel,
Don’t think about your teacher getting sad.

Isabella, please be happy as you grow up.
Seek refugee in your father’s arms,
Ask for help if you are down,
And remember the light even during dark times.

With love, 
For my sweet and little Isabella.

By Madelaine Bustamante