A Network of Writing and Community Publishers

'Doing, Being, Becoming
& Belonging'

November 2013

 01 December 2013

Mi Hermano Tato Laviera

From the beginning
When we gathered in the 1970s
Our deep sounds of the drum
That rises into a poem
It grew into Los Poetas del Barrio
En el pueblo de Varick
Como una gota de sangre y una gota de tinta
Y una gota de amor
With a drop of blood and a drop of ink
And a drop of love
Tato Laviera Carlos Troche Carlos Raúl Dufflar
Wilson Carrero Azalia Torres Drunilda Noel
Norma Hernández and Jorge Irizarry
Now we know our directions
From the rooftops of the Barrio
Our verses poured over to the
Henry Street Settlement
Street fairs and community festivals
Tato Carlito Troche Wilson Jorge and Norma
And our names sound like so much like
Un pueblo y un pueblito
An island of gentle seabreeze
Under the wings of a two-legged monster
Yes we speak with a laughter, Tato
As you return as a resident of the Earth
I remember you smiling
Like yesterday was today
Con un vaso de maví y un bacalaíto
And now as my leaves grow gray
Listening to Cortijo y El Negro Bembón
Healing from the test of life
As I listen to El Hermano Mahoma
He knew you at the age of fifteen
With your beautiful poems you wrote
Incense is burning in your honor
And your voices are engraved
As a source of eternal life
As Ismael Rivera con mi gente de cara negra
As Los Pleneros de la 21 Ave María
Yo te quiero yo te adoro
Mira mis señores
Bailo un gran bembé con ti
From your poet friend
Carlito y Troche
From El Barrio de los Poetas
Vaya, Tato es presente en el
Río Este

© Carlos Raúl Dufflar 11/1/13
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective

Ecos de Pachín Marín y Andrés Bonifacio

Nuestro círculo se aumenta con deseos de libertad
Aplaudimos las vidas que repercuten en todas nuestras islas
Nuestro círculo es un anillo de fuego
Fuerzas quien han conocido batallas contra tifones y huracanes
Vencerán siempre a los monstruosos embusteros
Escuchemos ecos de nuestros queridos Bonifacio y Marín
Por el mundo en lucha para

Our circle boosts with desires of freedom
We applaud the lives that reverberate in all our isles
Our circle is a ring of fire
Forces that have known battles against typhoons and hurricanes
Will always have victory over the monstrous liars
We hear echoes of our beloved Bonifacio and Marín
Over the world in struggle for

* Francisco Gonzalo (Pachín) Marín was a Puerto Rican independentista and poet who joined the Cuban Liberation Army in the Cuban Revolution of 1895. He died of his battle wounds and remains buried in Cuba. Both he and Bonifacio were born in 1863 (12 March and 30 November respectively) and both were martyred in 1897 (Bonifacio on 10 May, Marín on a day still unknown in November)

(c) Ángel L. Martínez
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective

Doing, Being, Becoming & Belonging

It’s difficult to know what label to put on myself; that is if there is such a label.
I know what I’m Becoming and that is older; much older.
I feel that I Belong where I am in the space continuum. Because I’m accepted by most people who know me! (Sometimes tolerated!)
I’ve Been a husband, a widower, a single parent. Now I’m a grandfather, a poet, performer, song writer and general factotum.
I think I’m Doing okay and have very little to complain about. I’m playing the hand I was dealt and it isn’t too bad.

I’d like to see people in power DOING more to help the poor in this country.
I’d like to see them BEING more compassionate towards our poorer people.
I’d like to see them BECOMING more realistic in their plans for the future.
I’d like to get them to BELONG to the real world. The one we live in.

Jim White.

A Forever Love

Love from young buds
Grows within the earth of the Lord
Bursting forth seeking the light and togetherness
At first swamped by the crowd
Till only the two of them are left
But wait! There is a third!
Jesus himself, with his golden fingers
Is sitting quietly on the ground
He reaches out and cups each one
In his gentle hands; and with his
Golden fingers, he entwines them as one
They kiss and know a forever love.
Breaking for a moment
The Bride and Groom turn to thank their Lord
But the body of the man had gone.
His presence though remained pure and strong
For the Holy Spirit surrounded the newly weds
And worshiping, they cried out their praise
Whilst their wedding bands shone of gold
The trace of him, the Lord had left behind
In a forever love

Jan Hedger

The Day's Doing

Doing things that have to be done
Grinding grinning putting on a front
Bluffing to get them done
Sweating turning rolling twisting
Doing the things that have to be done
Being the person that has to be
In the tree the branches leaves
Being free green smile
Someone leaves a wave to cry on
Understanding the crossroad blade
Being the person that has to be

Becoming the strengths of salt
In tangled net spread sores
Counting to be there upon lift
Because it's the call became
Becoming the strengths of salt

Belonging in that moments call
When someone needed a friendly nod below the ball blowing out the wheel
Standing up to even flat and tall
Belonging in that moments call

John Joseph Sheehy


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