Poetry
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Those Illegals
We don’t care.There is no empathy left in us.No sympathy.No care in the universe.We know who they are.Where they came fromacross an oceanEnglandPortugalSpainFranceItalyGermanySo many lands We have enough pain in our worldwe cannotwill notassume the debt of their painWe refused… Continue reading
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America, My Country Too
I was born in the United States of America and grew up here. The South Bronx, to be exact. From an early age, I was taught that this nation was the greatest in the world. No doubts about it.In Catholic… Continue reading
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Untitled Random Poems #3
The poetry of lifewords on a pagestreaming out of my mind singing like a sageSounds abound dancing sALSA in my soulmy fEET have foundmERENGUE has no fears.the poetry of mAMBO in my heart crying from deep inside Our music will… Continue reading
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Old(er): An Epic Journey
Part Two “Eat Life like you’re starving. You may feel full at the end of the day, but damn, it tasted good.” antonio pedro ruiz I remember the moment I touched down at LAX Los Angeles Airport like it was… Continue reading
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Instructions For Making and Using an Ax Handle
An Ax Handle, also called a haft, has five parts: the Eye, the Shoulder, the Belly, the Throat, and the Knob. ALL we wanted was to be served lunchat the whites-only lunch counterInside a F.W. Woolworthfive-and-dime store In Jacksonville, Florida,… Continue reading
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A Yankee Baseball Game
My annual tribute to my father, Antonio “Tony” Ruiz. My father never took me to a Yankees game when I was a kid. That was the secret burden of resentment I carried for a long time. At some point before… Continue reading
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Four Months
Today marks four months since my mini-stroke. “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell It seems so long ago, but it’s been… Continue reading
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The Great Escape
In a god we trustWhen I was ten years old, as I was praying during Mass performing my duties as an altar boy in the basement church St. Rita of Cascia, kneeling before the raised altar, the gold cross hanging… Continue reading
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Smoke ‘em If You Got ‘em
The first time I saw an American joint was when some guy in the high school gym asked me to pass one along to another guy on the other side of meThat guy seemed awfully anxious to get it like… Continue reading
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space is the place/an ode to Sun Ra
Just past midnight on New Year’s Day in 1980, I witnessed a performance by the late jazz composer, bandleader, pianist, synthesizer player, and poet Sun Ra at D.C. Space in Washington, D.C, under the influence of acid. This is a tribute… Continue reading
