Franklin Park, El Paso, TX

Cactus in El Paso, Texas..

Playing...

Playing as a form of healing (with photography)

mules of the world

niggers bitches whore
cunt fucker mother
patriarchy sexism
men macho jefe hombre
dickheads crossing prepubescent
paths in the name of desire
horny rational
dick balls sperm
flies blindly reproducing
misunderstandings of oppressive
realities for the sake of humanity
it all began with it
becoming he
capitalismo. imperialism
greed poor rich visible
silent ghost invisible
hunger gluttony selfish
unequal playing fields
premised on the idea that you
must break a sweat
to be in scene (seen)
present absence
can you hear me?
can you see me?
the race was lost
before it even began
cunts never win.
niggers always lose.
black bitches don't even get to
race
we are the damned...wretched of the earth

Writer's block

It's been ages (okay more like several weeks) since I've put pen to paper. No poems in sight. No portraits to paint. Fear has been clouding my thoughts, stress has been digging me like a hammer to a nail and my anxiety has been through the roof. I been holding the truth from myself. I thought that not addressing it and fighting it within would be the solution. I told myself "Smile, it will make you happy. Laugh, even when it's not funny. Play nice even if those co-workers irk the shit out of you." exhale. Healing is a process. But denial definitely is a hindrance to this progress. I thought I was doing well 'til the words appeared today on my journal...... seeing these words now makes them feelings that have resurfaced so real.


With courage,
RP

Origins of Transformation

Butterflies were once confined to a past that relegated them to solitude.
sitting in silence.
becoming one with nature.
finding their roots on land.
sliding left and then right. left and then right. on a path
that they knew would be greater than they could ever imagine.
the cocoon knew it was destined for greatness.
land animals would sit around it. wondering what would emerge in this little
unnoticable shell of a cocoon. never knowing that it would soon serve a purpose beyond their imagination.
the cocoon firmly planted into the grounds of the earth.
its roots shaping the transformation that would soon come.
the land of our mother nature is helping the cocoon reach it's path.
slowly. it meditates. slowly. it imagines. slowly it visualizes a place beyond its foundation.
never thinking that time would soon lead to a metamorphosis of sorts
the cocoon would simply hold tight to the foundation that was it's home.
they smelled the grass. made friends with land animals.
but never did they feel like they were serving their purpose in life.
until one day. the sun was shining its brightest.
so bright the baby [it] inside the cocoon noticed the light coming inside its cocoon.
the [it] cocoon looked into the light. the light led it to the crack. the crack became a hole. and then the hole
became bigger and bigger.
the cocoon. transformed. becoming a beautiful butterfy. with blues, purples, yellows, and oranges.
the land animals couldn't believe it.
the it became a butterfly. from a thing to something special.