Writing until you reach an ending that squeezes out tears

canon-art 072 - Copy

Finding an ending for poems

for me is hard.

Sometimes I want to end it as if I’m right there with you,

like stage direction.

I rip open my heart and plant her.

but that doesn’t leave the space the imagination or savory-ness for the reader

poems are meant to be savored, flavored, dare I say to be read again…for depth, for the sentiment, feeling and clarity…

poems are mini surprises

poems and writing for children go hand in hand.

Just like how writing novels/prose and poetry are friends like right hand and left hand.

What is good scene but poetry played out…

or a poetic metaphor disguised a twist in a chapter…

Finding my Latina/Chicana/Midewest/Mexican/Migrant poetic voice is like going back to my child heart

finding all the rays, los dichos, los abrazos de palabras and sifting through that and finding a wholesome freshly pressed tortilla. for me that’s perfection. a pressed circle perfect tortilla.

I was amazed at the simple tool that could do more than my hands ever could.

Don’t get me started regarding the tortillerias… Thats the big machine assembly line that makes them by the dozens…

Career plan B at age 8.

Hmmmm so many possibilities for poems of simple tortillas, round stories of corn, heat, and heart.


Visiting, Returning, Renewing…

With my most beautiful flower: Mi abuelita...

With my most beautiful flower: Mi abuelita…

Like a flashback, I know that a year has gone by…since my graduation.

And I am reminded again:

Hamline Faculty My Profs!

I am entirely grateful for all of the faulty at Hamline’s MFAC who have hugged me, read my drafts, who were there at each of my presentation (Critical and Creative) I didn’t see what they saw… There are times that I doubt why I was ever let in… still… in summer leafy MN shade I find myself playing up mi voz.

I am reminded again:

I miss mi gente-mi familia so much, that I imagine their lives, and I begin to write them, in story.

In story, that has beginnings, theme, and a narrative with challenges particular to Mexicanos from the midwest migration Norte. Si vivo ma para alla de chicago ya mero con santa clause.

Talk about a log line,

After 8 pb manuscripts, two kid writer conferences, and getting some freebie query letter critiques

I made a new blog decision to make this my author blog…


first steps are take time…

First stories take time, trust and a hug…

Second looks, revision take blood, thirst, and even more trust

Until you begin to believe that your story can get publish.


Chicas y Chicos are girl kids and boy kids and everyone in between.

Family news, pretending, and tiny jumps fill their days.

Tree stick propped open doors, hanging out on Blossom street, with one step stoops,

we dash from one apartment stoop to another.

Izzy is learning to do perfect cartwheels.

Purple Carrots, spring morning air, and washing leaves. In Ana’s little hands there’s something new and old.  4th generation piscadora now urbana.


PS Purple Leaves Live! Swati my first semester Profe still remembered… I am closing on my first house this month and guess what is in the yard? Yep, a Maple Purple Leaf tree!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know It’s a sign!

My Purple Leaves story

My Purple Leaves story