All Right Let's Do This One Last Time

Original Poem, by Briceida Cuevas Cob: Papalote El recuerdo es un papalote. Poco a poco le sueltas, disfrutas su vuelo. En lo mas alto se rompe el hilo de tu memoria y te sientas a presenciar como lo posee la distancia. Translation: Kite Memory is a kite. Little by little you let it go, enjoying its flight. At its height the string of your memory breaks and you sit and watch as the distance possesses it. I wish I had taken some poetic path to find this poem so I could write about it here, however that is not the case. I found this poem while looking online for something that connected to the current stage of my life: senior year, and my culture: latinx. That's when I encountered this poem about memories and nostalgia, written by a Mexican woman in 2010. I interpreted this poem multiple ways, which I think goes to show how simple and short poetry is often more complex than we realize, which is why it is my favorite kind. Dear Briceida Cuevas Cob,      My name is Ana Sofia ...

Original Red and blue uniform Still and Unyielding, supervising  The cabinet. One item, missing unreturned, waiting for it's rightful place. Constantly lingering in the back of the mind the burden, that must be returned Gone for days, passed around, and what if  it remains unreturned? Broken Red/Blue-uniform Still/Unyielding, Supervising-The cabinet. One/item-missing unreturned/waiting for its/rightful/place. Constantly/lingering in the back/of/the/mind the burden that must/be/returned Gone for days- passed around. What//if unreturned- During my vacation in Cancun I constantly found myself forgetting to return a plastic ball I borrowed from the hotel's activities desk. I would usually remember after they had closed, and I distinctly remember the desk had a human sized statue of spiderman next to it, almost like it was looking over the remaining items. Still, much like how Rosal states that "A poet makes use of what’s ruined, discarded, or forgotten ", my cousin and I...