When my mother died

When my mother died

the earth showed me

its true aroma

the sea spoke to me

in its true language

the fire and water embraced me

with their true music

when my mother died.

© Adrian

Translation by Nina Serrano

Welcome to America

Welcome to enjoy the best shoot-outs

on and off the big screen

welcome to smile at the helicopters

passing over the backyards

to make it clear that fear exists

welcome to experience the sweetest torture

to win wars in foreign lands

to make money in foreign lands

to impose ideas on foreign lands

welcome to enjoy a fast food

fast read, fast friendship, fast sex,

and hurry so you don’t miss the train of fame

and the American Dream.

Three helicopters fly over my house

they come and go in circles

People cross the street quickly

the noise in the sky doesn’t allow me to lose my fear

the noise in the sky is the new church, new catechism

the new way of saying that justice has spoken

the white man still has the power

and that having a black president is just a coincidence

of time and space.

I’ll try to leave without being seen

I'll climb trees and hide in the branches

I’ll make a nest with the birds who offer me refuge.

From the top of this tree I can see more people like me

writing poetry, more people like me out into the streets to protest

I can see frightened people, people with rabies

people wanting revenge.

I don’t want to live hidden in four walls of fear

I want to say that here I am

with all my verses ready to shoot my words

to strafe my poem in their faces

and in response be killed in self-defense

with the permission of justice

and the inevitable problem of the color of my skin.

© Adrian

Oakland, 15-16 July, 2013

Translation by Nina Serrano

-Helicopters photos by Adrian-

Love Poem in Paris

I am going to create a ceremony

to the glass you drank from

I will dance around the silverware

you used to eat with

I will save forever

the napkin that touched your lips.

I am a romantic collector of your footsteps

the patches of your sleeplessness

he who stitches together the bits of light

that you left in the air you pass through.

I like to scratch your head

and feel the velvet

of the archangels guarding your sleep

I want to kiss your closed eyes

and feed myself on your visions.

I am going to sing to your hands

that figure out the equation of the day

in each wing beat

I am going to make a blanket

with all the smiles

that you brought today

with it I will cover myself in the dawn

to write you a poem,

this poem.

Image: Rodin sculpture, photo by Adrian

© Adrian Arias, Paris 2013

Translation by Nina Serrano

7 moments for María

Map on the skin

the treasure found

written in time

Weaving clouds

adventure in the sky

kiss on the womb

Rooted

the water on fire flying

it fruits in your body

You take from the ocean

the reflection in your eyes

shining moon

In the mountain

there is no tiredness or rush

only seasons

Your body kept

secrets of life

now the wind

Precious stone

embedded in your chest

there you remain.

María was my mother, May 3 1937, April 23 2010

© Adrian 2013
Translated from the Spanish by Nina Serrano
Original poem in Spanish HERE

At night (or day)

I don’t want to walk down the street in fear

I want to sing as I walk

I want to dance if I feel like it

I don’t want you to clap my mouth shut because I am singing

or because you don’t want me to scream in fear or pain

I want to scream my singing to trees

I don’t want to run chased by shadows

I want to run chased by birds and clouds

I want to fly with them and visit my illusions

I don’t want you to throw me to the ground and mistreat me

the earth is sacred and my body also

You can calm down and try to think

There is nothing wrong in thinking it over again

You can ask your footsteps or your memory

there is nothing wrong with sitting down to think it over  again

There is no blood more sacred than lives in our body

no ideas more beautiful than are expressed in a smile or a kiss

I don’t want pain or fear or sympathy or trembling hugs

I want to write a poem in my body

about my life free and peaceful

just that, nothing more than that

-As I walk around my neighborhood-

Trans: Nina Serrano, 2013

-peace and poetry-
Adrian