sleep
quiet sleep
but restless
not quite
so quiet sleep
toss
turn
mumble
stare
not empty eyes
troubled eyes
terror sleep
reach
higher yet
farther yet
what star where
impossibly high
shot out of the sky
winking earthbound
to sleep
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
you race along the narrow way
over cracks and stones and ruts
unmindful of the cracks and stones and
ruts beneath that race along the narrow way
can you see coming
along trailer speeding
racing too
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
the crows call on the day
and night turns into
daylight
streaming through windows
chirping
twittering in leaves that
drop in golden showers
april showers strew the ground
golden ground in piles
that brown at night
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
it was a dark and stormy night
and papa was there
to put me to sleep
i had always wanted to be a girl scout
and everyone’s mommy and daddy
was at the induction
to pin the tiny girl scout pin
and tie the white kerchiefs on
i thought no one would come
and just when they called my name
papa was there
mama brought me to my grade school graduation
but didn’t stay
and somewhere in the middle of it all
as i strained to see the tiny faces in the crowd
papa was there
with his camera and his big almost-smile
and when my tummy hurt
really bad in school and
i had to get an appendectomy
before the anaesthetic got to work
papa was there holding my hand
and his eyes and shining eyeglasses
were the last thing i saw
floating next to the iv bottle
and when i walked down the aisle
papa was there holding me
like a little girl again
and smiling and crying
as i was
and when bianca came into the world
i thought i saw papa at the window
in a green surgical smock and cap
and when i woke up
there was a bag of sweets and cakes
and papa
and when i die
wherever i go i’m quite sure
the first thing i see will be papa.
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
i was as proud as a little girl could be
at six
with my very own room
and my very own bed
and my very own closets
and a door i could close
to be alone
until the big storm
when thunder roared
and the lightning
turned the shadow of
our neighbor’s caimito tree
into grotesque arms
swaying and reaching
in the blue-white glow
of the stormy night
and the wind
lashed at the windows
and left an open one
banging
and banging
and banging
i lay awake
crouched under my blankets
trying to shut my eyes
not to see
the monster arms
reaching for me
but they did
and i forgot
how nice it was
to have my very own room
and my very own bed
and my very own closets
and a door i could close
and i screamed
until papa came
and papa stilled
the thunder and lightning
so i could sleep.
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
i love
the scented talc
my mother kept forever
in the round can
with orange
swirls of flowers
and a soft fluffy
powder puff
and the yellowing
waxy paper
covering
the yellowish
scented talc
kept for special occasions
she never used
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
sifting through my mother’s things
i remember best
the black and white terriers
sitting by an empty pool
that cradled
a bar of scented soap
that broke into waxy chips
each time
i picked it up
to smell what scent
it used to be
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
welcome to the red hot planet
where the lights dance with wild abandon
like the girls on the ledge
and writhing figures on the floor
step to the wild beat of drums
like a primitive ritual dance
where dancers in costumes gyrate
passionately
or listlessly (or lifelessly?)
under multicolored flashes
sometimes white
are they paying homage to the screen
where more figures writhe
silently screaming at them?
welcome to the red hot planet
where pale faces
accented by garish paint
more garish in the dancing lights
scream at each other
yet can’t be heard over the wailing
and the drum beats
and the priestesses in black
(against white flesh
made paler by the lights)
offer themselves to the screen goddess
while satyrs dressed like men
try to catch them
is this the new world
the space age
where men go when earth dies?
i’d rather stay on earth.
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
i always thought that tanks
were heavy artillery
meant to fight other tanks
or planes
or other armored vehicles
not people
i guess it’s true
that they’re not meant for people
because it seems
people can stop them
after all.
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
i was not there in tiananmen square
not in nineteen hundred and eighty nine
i remember
a huge square
and huge square buildings
and a long red wall
with a portrait of mao
i remember a monolith
a statue
(maybe it was somewhere else?)
i remember smartly dressed guards
around the statue
and we climbed it to take pictures
and they couldn’t stop us
because we were tourists
who didn’t know any better
i remember some hotdog-like stand
and people in blue and white and brown and black and grey
walking around
staring at us
because we were in tight denim jeans
and tucked in tee shirts
and high heels
and they were in pajamas
i can still see the flat stones
covering the square
square stones laid end to end
and side to side
hundreds of them
a greying white in the sunlight
when i try to see the squares now
i see thousands of heads
not squares
and people in blue and white and brown and black and grey
and red
and when i look again
the stones there are
greyish white in the sunlight
some blotched it seems
with brown that might have been red
but still square stones
laid end to end
and side to side
hundreds of them
and no different from each other.
© Cindy Lapeña, 2012
Cindy Lapeña: Creativity Unlimited 