Dragoness

By Rosalva Ruiz SuperNova

There is a legend
That only a few know
About this mysterious woman
Who’s face is still unknown
Yet her feats
Are recorded
In the Odd family scroll. 

A chivera from la frontera
Who passed from electronics
Food 
And some other tonteras. 

The one and only wedding aide
Who didn’t give access
To this celebrity fave
For the simple reason
That Fito Olivares was not written
In that page
Of course
Who would have known
That Rodolfo Olivares
Was his real name
A VIP guest
At least
that’s what’s written there. 

And well the list goes on
Array with beats
And souls that begin to flow.
That was her last job as such
That is for sure. 

Now let’s not forget
Of the many recorded
Falls from filming
“The one in a lifetime events”
Such as the time of that wedding
Where the bride’s arm
Suddenly arose
Trying to hold
something in the air
Their lips
As well as their eyes
Saying “Oh no!”
Then a white ceiling
Of the church
Came into view… 

This other time
Where instead of a white ceiling
It was the face of Jesus
With his arms wide open
Kind of saying pobrecita
Ahi va de nuevo otra caida… 

But
Fret not
That gave her the best idea
Pictures taken from the floor
She’s got quite a few
Of those.
The kiss in the air
From the groom and his bride
The funny faces from friends
And quinceañeras
Enjoying their time. 

The groom leaning
The dazed eyes
Anticipating a love song
And the fallen bow
Giving the perfect
Memory for years to come. 

While in the cloud
Makes one remember
That this woman
Is a dragoness in disguise
When the time comes by.
A whisperer of love
When the need is more.
A clown in the cloud
When the kids are around.
And last but not least
A cast speller
In an invisible town
When she holds
Her feathered pen
And writes in the air.

Eli, Paco y Seb 2

Paco

He’s a bit of a parrot
Hence me calling him
Paco Pacorro is a given.
He’ll be a great politician
There is only white or black with him
Either you go to the right
Or the left
There is no in-between.
He is what we call
“Gente de raza”
In other words
He is from the hood
He may be 5
But sometimes
It feels like
He is 15
One either adores him
Or hates him.

But the core of it all
He is humble
And although sometimes
He looks like a troublemaker
He’ll stand for what’s right.

This is the introduction of the 5-year-old.

A few days ago
Seb, the 3-year-old
Came running from his room
And as soon as he saw Paco.


He stopped and practically commanded
With a playful voice,
“Paacooo, open your moudth and say aaahh!!

Paco who was playing with legos
Looked at him and followed along, “Aaaaahhh.”

Seb started laughing and saying, “haha you missing a toodth! Hahaha”

Paco turn his head towards me and shouted,
“Mooommm, tell him to stooopp!”

I just couldn’t stop laughing
I wasn’t expecting that.
It was hard to stop laughing
And be showing anger…

Roots

Roots are engraved in my veins
It’s not the culture
It’s the warmth that emanates from it.


It’s the soft song
That makes you dance along.

It’s the perfect amount of spice
That gives us that savory bite.

Like that piece of heaven
You found in a far away land
And with just that memory
Makes a watery mouth.

One can even taste

the smell in the air
From that place
Transporting you to another time
To  a world
That only one knows.

From time to time
There may be some bitter drinks
On the way.

Even a hangover the next day
Yet our roots are stronger
That even with any storm
Our roses will flourish.

This…
This is my family
This is my culture
These are my roots.

The forgotten letter

I still remember when my dad got a hold
Of my third love letter. He decided to encrust it on a piece of wood.
Of course the deed didn’t end there, to embellish it, he wrote,”Hija de tigre, pintito.” Which is a proverb that simply means “The daughter is like her mother” of course, he meant it playfully. 
There is a saying in english that means the same with different words.
” the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

On top of that, there were little flowers around it and a small heart on the bottom. I was so embarrassed and didn’t understand the love that my dad put into making that piece of art.
I was barely six, so if you see horrors in my grammar and spelling, you can imagine how it was back then (terrible).
Now… back then, in the middle of our home, dad had a small canteen. There were sculptures all around, from a David to a Moses, he also had some wooden sculptures, most of the wooden ones were either from animals or people from different ethnic groups in Mexico; and of course, just entering the place, that maybe 20-year-old-round piece of wood was hung for everybody to see. He was so proud of it that if people didn’t pay attention to it, he would tell them about it. Of course, at those same moments my embarrassment skyrocketed. 

Now days I laugh about it, but back then it was a thorn piercing my ego. I used to believe in the element spirits, I still do, but back then it was like a law. Somehow, I believed that by throwing my love letter to the ground in front of my house, the wind spirit would use its wind to take it to my beloved one. I do wonder who actually got to see those two letters before the third one. This third one was written on a memo pink paper with my mom’s business logo. I barely finished it, but my mom called me and I forgot it in my dad’s canteen; Hence the all the dilemma afterwards.

The last time I got to see my dad and was actually able to talk to him, I asked him why did he do that with the letter?
He started smiling and said, “It was the first time I saw you write a sentence. It made me proud.” I didn’t get it back then, I guess at 15 years old, one doesn’t understand the deep meaning of things.
However, now days, whenever I remember that forgotten letter, it fills my heart with joy and makes me cry.

Queen of the jungle

Have you ever driven with four kids? Just to give you an idea
As soon as I start driving, the two-year old starts crying
“Please, teta, teeetaaa!” Somehow I grab the backpack from the backseat
Prepare the bottle while driving with my knee
Yes my knee, and pass it to him stretching my arm to the back.

“Mom! Oh no! I’m dying!”  My sixteen year old screams.
Of course, he means in the game, IN THE GAME!
Then again, by inertia, I turned my head as he leans
He is next to me playing again
“Easy there,” I tell myself, breathe 
Reasons, there’s too many, starting with four.
Soon after, there’s a scream from the backseat

“Dude, chill,” my seven-year old tells my 4-year-old
And he keeps screaming for God knows what 
Yet my seven-year old covers his ears and yells “mom, tell him to stop!”

“Breathe”, I tell myself again while turning off the music
Listen boys, if you all don’t stop it now
Even your dinner will go to the sink
So, do you think they listened? Of course not!
Screaming and yelling, of course my two-year old after finishing his bottle joins the chorus
Inspiring enough to think that this is a jungle. Monkeys, exotic bird and even cicadas
Nothing out of the ordinary… “Breathe,” and finally an idea popped up.
“Guys if you keep at it, there won’t be any nintendo switch for the weekend.”
Silence… Finally no buzzing, no humming nor chirping, for how long? Who knows? let’s enjoy it while it lasts.