9/30 en mi raises’,
♫ Isla
Isla bonita
te querro ♪
Kiskellya la bella
Desde la terra, Te llevo
Me seimbro con tus raises ♫
To my grandmother
Who held down three jobs
Three kids
Never lost a pep in step
She was anita la electrica
Abused by her father who was so black that he was blue.
He treated her like she was just
Another esclava.
She grew up as a welfana
And maybe it was just destiny
Because like a phoenix
She rose from his ashes.
It was a pink mansion down on east 34th street
by Eastside Park
She waited
at hand and feet
on a white man dreams
‘‘ana antonia ! Negra ! Come here por favor.”
For years
She was the humbled house servant,
Giving my father a new dream
One that the island couldn’t give.
She saved every nickel
For the sake of fulfilling
El sueno
That her sons
Wouldn’t make shining shoes a profession.
Cause all you would hear
From dawn to dusk is
The melody of a child
In a mans voice
“Limpia , Limpia’ bota”
My grandmother , my mother and mentor
Has the heart of a queen
And blood of a slave
Running thru her
She came a long way to nowhere,
Her cant
Break me
Shake me attitude
Is what drives me
Materialistic things have yet to faze her.
And yet
She has
never written any sonnets,
any poems
Has never picked up a paint brush
Has never worked corporate,
Not a doctor or a lawyer
But for the past 27 years
She has been my teacher,
Her living room ,
Has taught life lessons that are beyond my years.
This class room
Is the only class room that ever mattered
And this ..
This very moment for mama
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