La Teatrista

guerillera de la cultura

Friday, February 24, 2006

Please come

Recuerdos de mi Mama: Tributo a la Epoca de Oro
March 3rd - 19 Fri, Sat 730pm Sun 2pm
Rose Marine Theater
1440 N Main
Fort Worth TX 76106
(817) 624 - 8333

Friday, February 17, 2006

My dream of late

Un descubrimiento

Suelta en Bembe's y ron,
alli,la dulcura de tambores
desperto ritmos serpentinos
en mis caderas y mas.

Vei la cara de Chile,
acaricie sus playas con los
ardientes suspiros de mis mares.

Alli bailamos,
alli cantamos,
alli me dio su regalo:
un pedazo pequeno de su mundo ya solo
perdido en anhelo.

el liston de palabras
que nos enredo el ruletero,
nos llevo
a una isla con cama y puerta.

Alli compartimos piel y suenos.
Sus canciones
sobre mis cenos
y me arrullaron.

Las aguas turbientas
encontraron paz en los rios de Chile.
Pero como humo,
el refugio se deshila a solo un bulto de memoria,
con aliento dulce que llama a
las mas tristes confesiones, apenas reconocidas
y ahora recibidas con el miedo
de esperanzas primavernales.

Buzco el abrazo de sus dos condores de ojos
calmantes y profundas, directas en sus viajes

Buzco el calor de sus manos eternos
manos como las piedras que levantaron
los muros de Machu Pichu.

Buzco las estrellas de sus besos
azucaradas con la luz de fuegos.

Me quedo con sus huellas, solo sus huellas.

FEB 2006 This poem was mentored by Pablo Neruda

test this is a test

Lahib Jaddo

Thursday, February 09, 2006



Delirium in my bones,
a wake …a rush.
How far will this hum go in the stillness
of heavenly order, of majesty –grandieur?

For a moment I capture the soon future in my eyes
The bones are set for the hard way down
Then its gone like blown powder.

I wear my welcomes so fast
I speed up to find the cure to my innocence
My lust and confusion is trembling,
falling forward past my secrets of bad visions,
falling to meet those transparent eyes of change

known only in darkness.

To wait for a sign,
where touches are too much
for a delicate mind
to savor
And I beg:

Let me find a home
Let me find my peace, my courage…
In smiles and patience,
In lost lorn looks of loves
and impatience.
It all seeps in just to float away.

I find this mystery -
this certainty I don’t know how to name
Here, I find faces in grains of wood panels
shapes brought together by lights and simple shadows
to create the familiar image lost in the everday mind
the image woven into our reality now from long ago

While fractions of seconds climb high into the smoke of my prayers,
wishes wrap themselves in the tree limbs of old breath
breath purified to its maximum form,

I see truth in the veins of fallen leaves,
I see truth in the stains of a yellow smile,
I see truth in the lines of my palm.

Mysteries can only be captured in a
lightning’s fast decent:
a speck of time where you can make out a face in the shadows,
a face no other eyes can find like your own.


Some poetry

American Way
On a lonely night of wine and CSPAN
Two words rattled down inside,
Clunky and heavy like a bad supper
Two words too disturbing to ignore:

Patriotic Assimilation

It came from the lips
of a consummate conservative’s
observations of American immigration:

Patriotic Assimilation

Recalling images of a fevered soldier’s robotic replies,
of passionate sermons over raised fists and flags,
booming cries of leaders wanting no other way...
but their own so-called American way

Let’s assimilate patriotically!
Lets have our houses all painted
in tight lipped hues.
No more
hot greens, rose petal pinks or electric blues
or anything that might suggest
a different anthem.

Better yet,
have the stars and stripes tattoed as
barcodes on our necks…
for are own safety.
English as a language is too foreign,
Why don't we speak American!

Patriotic Assimilation

Lets not treat the these applicants as consumers
shopping for citizenships like Christmas slaves at Walmart,
but lets mouth the language of country and nation.

Letting the infamous trumpet of our forefathers
shake the core of a hopeful individual
down to his knees with clasped hands
for three Hail Lincolns and one Star –Spangled Banner.

Mouthed prayers
shimmering with passion
school children with hands on their hearts
singing words that have always been just a vacant promise
“I pledge allegence to the flag... ”.

The American way they say
of TV’s, football, Big Macs, and malls.
Only here can we consume -democratically.

Let’s live the dream,
The American dream:
the self-made, self sustained, self-contained capital way
of the white picket fence around
acres that promise an estate
stuffed with good life and easy money.

We all can be kings and queens here!
No worries, the pons of your kingdoms will come
all with backs wet and broken tongues.

No fear!
Patriotic assimilation will fix it all.
Like a dry blanket and super glue.

The American way:
the dry turkey on Thanksgiving,
the stale donut,
the cracker taste of dry ramen noodles.

The American Way:
it’s an msg headache during rush hour,
it’s the beer goggled babe,
it’s the sweat of an immigrant’s brow… hoping.

-Claudia Acosta 12/14/05

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Time gives me a slap in the face

I work a lot. I end up staying within a 10mi radius of my home. The theater, the 7th st/University bars, a friend's house on occasion. It is mostly the gas price's fault. Anyway, I try to see my family once a week, which suits me just fine because it does take a bit to handle them. I do talk to someone in my family at least once a day. Should be enough, right? No, I love 'em they are everything to me. I am damn lucky. Sometimes we forget.

I wake up Fri to enjoy a day off and do nothing but putter around the house, make myself lunch, work on some poetry, snuggle in bed with my book and pen before I run the box office again. The last of my personal days for six weeks or so. I thought about my folks, I hadn't seen them lot even though they drive me crazy. I get a text tellin me my Mom is in the hospital. My Mom hasn't gone to the hospital in ten years or so. Blood clot. Thats freakin serious. (My Grandma had one sneak up on her and went straight to her lung, thats why she left.) This was not good, not in conjunction with her diabetes. I couldn't really move fast enough because my mind went a way that wouldn't really serve a purpose. I saw life without her. I was just working on a scene with her voice telling her memories in my mind. I saw myself sitting with my father next to an empty seat watching the show I wrote for her, inspired by her and having to make it happen knowing she couldn't see it with us. Oh God sometimes my imagination doesn't do me me any good.

(Here I am thinking this all over again with a lump in my throat while she's taking a nap in the other room.)

My Aries mind tends to see nothing but the immediate moment. Watching the progress of time is frightening when it reveals itself this way. Not that Age is unknown to me. I forget, then reminded again, when I hug my Dad and my head doesn't rest on his chest anymore, when my Mom gets tired more often now than I remember. My Mom would wear me out at the malls when I was a kid. I never go now, but when I had a quick run to make recently, and she had to sit down and wait for me. I cried on the way home. They are getting older, they won't be around much longer. Time is now.

I had to wait for my sisters to let me know what was going on before I could speed down to Arlington. It ending up being a much appreciated warning and nothing more. We all saw it though. I practice visualizing your wanted reality, but these dark pictures in my mind are hard to shake off at the moment. I guess a glimpse of the future can give the present a slower, deeper life went you let it.

We are stronger than we think. I know this. I do.