Reluctance, impervious virtue how doth thou haunt me
with lauder day intrusion
mormons, watchtowers, latters of mormons trying to spread
their infectious ideas. "rich miserable bastards" It's scary, Man.
Trying to convert-- trying to convert
the love of god you say?
For the Love of GOD!!! I say, in a not so penetrated way.
"I am A BUDDHIST"
But I am not, for, you see, I am a human with a Buddhist will
and a christian sense of humor, a smidgen influence from the catolicos (alcolicos) tu dices
but do I believe?
Hek, I mean HELL; I barely believe in myself and I realize
I am going to get out there and "start happening too"
Because, when I was a child there was not that belief from
the familial opinion of me, you see, I was the brown sheep of the family
so out of place, my sister once tried to convert me to christianity and
the results were: I fear christianity. "I am a recovering Christian"
some of the stories are so absurd they're funny
once in Las Vegas .. T-doe and I saw a topless show called Jubilee all bout Christian stories
the one I found particularly alarming and absurd Samson and Delilah bout a guy whose dreads make him strong. spook stuff, I tell ya. His hair is cut and he loses his superhuman powers. That's like the opposite of patriarchy, (are men not meant to have short hair?) Oh but in the bible everyone has long hair-long beard and looks like a hebrew priest.
Alls I can do is sit back and find meaning to be the meaning of life, if that means anything.
You see, things never really are as they seem. Build a support network they say, never works for me.
I knows I need people and dem peoples needs me, a collaborative process, but I am so old, you knows, thirty-one, hows a gal supposed to make friends at this age? For Christ Sake! people are dicks, and they just remind me, you know, of dem olden days, whens my family used to judge me, so now I have a complex, and I am not made of stone I am made of flesh and blood, (that wacky stuff that the catolicos do) eat a cracker, call it christ. (I seriously, did not mean for that to sound racist towards whites) but it has a little ring to it: eat a cracker, call it christ. Don't you go accusing me of reverse discrimination --I will accuse you, of double reverse discrimination. I went to college for a really long time. And I never really made any friends except for Rosa. But I went there to try to discover myself. And you know what I discovered there is no way around getting a "yob" man. Idk if this here is a poem. But it is a fart vent of a cracked up poetic cry for help. Isn't that what everything is? I went into Chicano/a studies because I wanted to explore whether it was just in my head or if some of the stuff that actually happened to me really was racist. And you know what I learned? That there is a lot of racism out there but there is more sexism than anything else. I swear, I had a male professor that never read any of my papers. I think he thought I was crazy, and I swear but I can't tell if he gave some more of the opportunities to the boys, but I can't tell because I was too busy understanding what things were racist. The sexism was just supposed to be tolerated.
And my point here, you see, is that it derives from somewhere, and I say that that somewhere is church!
The other thing is what if all this stuff is just in my head and I just think every man is sexist because my brothers and cousins were all male and I had to hear them speak as if I was not in the same room listening to the things they really say and think about women.
Life is a tragic disheartening sexist cell of intrusion dominated by an air of egocentric males talking about their mothers, undermining them, and their competence. Meanwhile it's the women that have to raise the little bastards. How backwards is that?
What I did learn in Chicano/a studies is some of the stories behind Aztec mythology are brutal. Like that lady Tonanzin/ Cuatlicue/ something or other, the one that's supposed to be La Virgen de Guadalupe in disguise as an amalgamation to the old ways. The Aztecs fighting to be remembered through a Catholic deity. (Many goddesses/ and gods) fighting their way through to the new catolico (loco) Spanish ways. La Virgen de Guadalupe the most Mexican of them all--deities (that one) she had an army of male baby (warriors) like 200 or more and then these sons of hers found out she got pregnant through some other way (not some voodoo Aztec magic or Catholic miracle) ( but by actually having sex). Once they found out (these Aztec warriors) killed her and ostracized her because she was going to have a girl. Her impurity of an offspring was subhuman to these warrior men merely because of her gender. So Guadalupe's or Tonanzin's own sons killed their own mother. What they did not anticipate is that her spirit would come back to stay around for forever and Latin America worships this emblem of a woman that used to have a skirt of serpents which is now a flowered dress. And no one even remembers about the 200 aztec gods (warrior sons) that were once the sons of Tonanzin. They mean nothing because there was no way to subversively and subtly mesh them into Catholicism. Maybe that is what that male professor was so afraid of, that all the men would be forgotten and who knows, just another power struggle. That is the stuff that is fascinating and eerie to me. No wonder, my family is so divided. That little myth story reminds me of my whole childhood. I am the youngest daughter, I do have a sister, but five brothers, and a number of other half siblings on my womanizing father's side as well.
What also becomes clear to me out of this little piece of information is that there is no way that anyone could really say that their heritage is superior than any other because when you really think about it, it is all so arbitrary. The world, Latin America still very patriarchal in its thinking, practices, and beliefs, yet the main deity that is absolutely sacred in Latin America is a female figure, Matriarchal. Go figure?
So, I guess this isn't much of a poem, it's just a long cry for help venting out... A harsh throw-up?!
Deborah Leon Godinez Copyright ©2013
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