Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Work from Our Inspired Word Poets
The Tongan (American) Creation Myth
For my American Tongan generation, For our youth
vaimoana litia makakaufaki niumeitolu,
We want Jesus, Our hair blown out, football and Paris Hilton
to save us
Britney, Miley, MTV and Hollywood dreams
to inspire us
We like that Urban Outfitters and Old Navy
steal our vivid, flower patterns
for their Summer Collections
So we can wear “our culture” and share it with “others”
We are a coooooooooooooooooool people
Shaaaaaaka Brada, Hang Loose
Come be with us!
Let’s have a Luau Office Party!
We are Hip and Laid back Folks
Chillllll, We are Sexy and Happy Natives
Our patterns are depressing
We have no collections or recollection
of our history
We hate ourselves
We hate our thickness
We hate our bigness
We hate our brownness
We hate you
We are tired and need a vacation
We Laugh at FOBS
and hope and pray for
thin noses, thin thighs
we grew up on
spam, pork, corn beef, vienna sausages,
white wonder bread and
white is supreme wonderfulness
we were raised
on the strength & courage
of our parents
who are FOBS
our Aunties and Uncles
our cousins, our sisters, our brothers,
We are ashamed of who we are
Our hair no longer grows long
We despise the curl, the thickness
The wideness, the broadness
We want to be lighter in all ways:
weight, skin tone, mind capacity
We think reading is the “Palangi way”
We think education is “not a part of us”
while Epeli Hau’ofa passes away
We are Exotic Fantasies
We like that “South Pacific” is a revival at Lincoln Center
We are Safe, Secure and Smiling
Our Future is so Bright
We are definitely not exotic Fantasies
but carry these myths in our palms
like its our reality
We are bored with each other
We still have blond dreams and blue eyed fantasies
We crave to be wrapped into George Washington--he excites us
We have attitude—not fierce or good
we got “I don’t want to be bothered, Leave me alone,
Who do you think you are?” attitude
We shoot each other down with guns and gossip
Smile and pretend we don’t see other or ever hear this
We sing other People’s Songs & satisfied with lipsynching
We are dying and need a revival
We are secure in not knowing
who we are
We are actual facts
Look us up
Wikipedia got us
Yes, we do exist
even if no one has heard of us or met us in flesh
I am not the only one
This is where the real test in Faith should be in
We are real, live and direct
We are Rising Statistics in UN Conferences and Academic Papers
More Documentaries need to share this
Scientists and Economists can confirm this
Margaret Mead didn’t want to mention this
Jeffery Sachs can attest to this
Brangelina wishes they can adopt this
Gauguin was afraid to paint this
We are poor
We are hungry
We are poverty
We are AIDS/HIV, hidden and shhhhhushed
and other multiple STDs and diseases that are never discussed
We tell ourselves that no one has sex
yet We are rapes, teen pregnancies and whispered abortions
Diligently hoping, expecting and praying Churches to educate & forgive us
We are islands sinking, no clean ocean, no clean land yet We still want you to come here and we still live here
We are Paradise Burning, Welcome!
We are Fishmerman who don’t have any fish to fish,
there is no more Fish in the Sea, yet We are still Fisherman
We are Hurt, Lost and never found Navigators
We are broken inner compasses with no set maps or direction
We are just waiting for the next “Whale Rider “ movie to premier at Sundance and Cannes, So we CAN finally get some airtime on a major network, be written up in a magazine and say we got some “representation”
say we got sumtin because we are a “nothing people”
We are a “ What ARE our natural resources?” No oil can be found here, Our Leaders wish we had some—we only got coconuts, mangos, pineapples and sugarcane people
We are struggling to survive & wishing for American dollars and Euros to invest here, we want your money and will take it monarchy
We are Turtles with plastic soda rings around our necks and backs, We are deformed toxic reefs, seaweed and never ending waste and trash
We are the biggest Ocean--the Pacific Ocean--in the whole entire World!
with the largest dump Site on the Planet!
We want more and more countries to dump with us, it means more money for schools never built government
We are a “no one really knows us” people and we are “invisible in this world” visibly seen in friendly commercials and brochures, want one? Cleaning new hotels and condos
We go about our lives passing, never telling our stories, leave it for someone else to do and tell, Silent Storytellers
We are Oceania connected through our bloodlines with a high percentage of alcohol, diabeties and high blood pressure generation
We are a Paaaaaarty People, We praise Bob Marley and blast Reggae yet at anytime we sneer at Uliulis thinking we are better—Raise another drink and cheers to our next generation of the Pacific People in America!
TRUTH but not YET FACT:
Let us break the myths that hold us down, call us ugly
Betray each other and ourselves
Let us be our own Creators
of our own Lives
Let us re-definite and re-tattoo on our bodies and minds
the stories of where we once belonged
Let us create our own possibilities of
who we always wanted to be
Let us create our own powerful beginnings
and navigate through these treacherous times
So more of us can have happy, fulfilled endings
Let us be our most powerful, brilliant, greatest selves
and sail through this new land of opportunity
Let us make and keep our own promises with each other
In this Promised land of broken promises
Let Us believe in our own
Natural Beauty and resources of
Generosity, Kindness, Strength, and Love
Let us exist
in who we truly are
Let us create
The Designated Underpaid Office Manager
Work – Work – Work!
The office jackass of all trades and the master of none – your work, his work, her work, the boss’ work, the clerical’s work, the messenger’s work, the housekeeper’s work – everyone’s work. Your responsibility is to be a loyal member of the team. It doesn’t matter how many hours you put in as long as the work gets done.
Vacation and sick days are not included. Overtime is your time. Benefits include doing the job yourself since it would take longer to delegate, and at least the job would be done correctly. Training the office jerk would only make you sicker.
Because you have to do it and they won’t! You know that you are a valued worker with an honorary title and your coworkers and boss would only screw up and make a mess. It would be worse should you be out sick. Try to take vitamins and eat a more nutritious diet. Exercise more. Try jogging while running office errands. Do weightlifting with your paperwork, even with your computer. It’s good to burn up calories and cellulite; keeps the heart fit and could get you back into that bikini you’ve kept in your drawer for over five years. Get extra sleep. Instead of wasting time commuting, why not sleep at your desk? Every extra hour of sleep would benefit your mental ability and stamina, thus would give you the energy needed for new projects in the morning. Use the restroom for a quick wash-up. We would not appreciate our underpaid office manager to smell organic.
Complaining Isn’t Professional!
Be grateful that you still have a job. Think about the poor starving brokers who used to work on Wall Street. Don’t whine about some people having all the luck! They could be laid off and you would have the privilege of doing their jobs. It would be like a promotion, except we won’t be able to give you a raise due to the budget.
Smile More and Keep a Positive Attitude!
Your heart will tick longer and you would look more attractive, plus a harmonious office lifestyle is healthier for all of us. Our criterion for business ethics was built by teamwork. Think of work as a form of Zen and you’ll be a happier employee as long as whistling while you work doesn’t offend your coworkers’ ears.
Your HR representative
- Patricia Carragon November 2008
You Ask Me Who Am I
You ask me who am I? I tell you that I am Anacaona the Kacike of the Tainos of Kiskeya. Again you ask me who am I? I tell you that I am the mother of those seeking refuge. I am the Earth Mountain for her children to rest their weary heads, I am the birthplace of all those who come to ask questions where they came from.
My name is Kiskeya. My name is Earth Mountain and Earth Mother the birthplace of my children the Tainos. My name symbolizes the Heart of our ancestry for those to understand. Feeling the hurt of my children, people and land,
When you fall, I am there to pick you up. When you’ve been cut, I am there to cover your wounds, when you need shelter; I am there to cover you from the cold and rain.
Who am I? There is no need to ask. I am you, you and you.
The people of yesterday, today and tomorrow the ancestry of all three that makes us complete. The Taino, African and Spaniard are the bloodlines that in the end were made to be.
Uniquely different that sets everyone apart,
So we can shout at the top of our lungs to the whole world.
That we still exist for you to acknowledge and see,
We give of ourselves but instead been mistreated,
We have been forgotten, used and abused for being different.
We are not a plague or disease; we are peaceful and loving people.
So tell me who are you?
Who are you to question your mother?
Tu cres que tú te manda?
Tell me how can you stand there and still wonder.
I gave of myself to make sure that our story lives on,
Hispaniola, Santo Domingo or Dominican Republic my name has been changed but I remain Kiskeya with a capital K.
- Reina M. Miranda
Riding the Wonder Wheel
we’d wait for a swinging car
smoke a joint on the way up
make out like maniacs
when we reached the top
the ride would end and we’d
tumble out in weak-kneed
passion, light cigarettes
with shaking hands
and hot fingers,
lay across benches
on the boardwalk
rats racing by
old men jerking off
we didn’t care
our skin was melting
and the rides closed
we cut school,
climbed up the fire escape
your mother was sleeping
on the plastic covered couch
we stayed in your room
for hours, it felt like days
but fucking you in your bed
never even came close
to our Wonder Wheel kisses,
rocking in the clouds
as coney island roared
beneath our happy feet
© puma perl, 4/6/09