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Iris De Anda

Iris De Anda is a writer, activist, and practitioner of the healing arts. A womyn of color of Mexican and Salvadorean descent. A native of Los Angeles she believes in the power of spoken word, poetry, storytelling, and dreams. She has been published in Poetry of Resistance Anthology, Mujeres de Maiz Zine, Loudmouth Zine: Cal State LA, OCCUPY SF poems from the movement, The Border Crossed Us Anthology, Seeds of Resistance, In the Words of Women, Twenty: In Memoriam, Revolutionary Poets Brigade Los Angeles Anthology, Frontera Esquina, Brooklyn & Boyle, and online at La Bloga & La Tolteca. She is a moderator for Poets Responding to SB 1070.  She currently hosts The Writers Underground Open Mic every Third Thursday of the month at the Eastside Cafe. Author of CODESWITCH: Fires From Mi Corazon. www.irisdeanda.com

Daffodil

 

in the flowers 
of my step 
I plant seeds
of change
each footprint
etching edges
of rebellion 
growing from
the soles 
of my bare feet
were roots
transplanted 
by my grandmothers 
my toes 
curl into
the mud 
of mountains
so I can 
stand tall
even after
so much 
of my history 
was spent 
on fallen fields
the echo 
of the trees 
that carry
my lineage 
reverberates
in my bones 
i run
rushing rivers 
under raging sadness
release all
of this
expectations 
drown 
in the distance 
as i hear 
my ancestors 
calling 
rise in the truth
of your inner knowing 
the herbs
are sown
in your interior
rosemary 
full of grace
pirul 
for dusting off
all the bad traces
of memories 
sit with this offering
shake away
all the assuming glances
of your character
you came to make waves
crush the mold
with your laughter
crash into authority 
redefine every moment
by placing 
one boot
in front of the other 
until you reach 
something 
you never knew
was out there

 

(c)2016 Iris De Anda

Midnight in my Bones

 

the Bruja in me 
laughs daffodils
until morning comes
by the cover of dark
moon I dream
violet awake stir
echoes into silence
etch the edge of
Light into my finger
tips drip letters
into the spaces
between me the
vowels find themselves 
in my ribcage caught
between feeling home 
&  wanting to shout
to strangers when 
the numbers follow 
& the clock strikes 
bells I awaken even
if my eyes stay closed 
I remember the sound 
of pyrite conjuring  Is z 
my tongue opens
feeling away layers 
unraveling spells
thorns pulled out
of my witches
mouth

 

(c)2016 Iris De Anda

The Absence of Sound

 

 

If I close my eyes
Count all the stars
Magnify my fears
Spread across the stripes
Let the trees
Be my witness 
Illuminate this silence
My palm a screen
All the unsaid violence 
Spilling into ether
Unto the light we're born 
Living with one hand
Raised up with the microphone
These are strange days
Listen to no one 
As the horn blasts out
Third eye explodes
I can see clearly now 
This loud solitude my prayer
Highway of angels
Hitchhiking on wires
Transverse this wilderness 
By moonlights hour
The parade ends here 
King crucified on stage
One last attempt to play the part

 

(c)2016 Iris De Anda

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