Chicano Poet

Friday, September 21, 2007

Mirada

I knew I was Mexican
by the way white people
looked at me.

If I walked across town
the police would stop me
and ask where I was going.

If I rode my bicycle
on the wrong sidewalk
old white ladies would cry rape.

If I went out
with a white girl
both sides of the tracks would frown.

I never had an Uncle Hank
only a Tio Fidencio
no cousin Phil only primo Pablo.

Today I know I’m Chicano
by the way the Mexicans
look at me.

7 Comments:

At 5:08 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Que bien y la pura verdad. It is a problem, also encountered in the relationship between African refugees and African Americans. The Africans consider themselves superior to the AAs.

Bernal

 
At 6:45 PM, Blogger RC said...

Thanks,Bernal.

 
At 10:33 AM, Blogger CorgiGuy said...

Oye bro tu poema pega. Like your blog, first time here

 
At 1:50 PM, Blogger RC said...

Thanks for dropping by,Corgiguy.

 
At 11:17 AM, Blogger Ernesto said...

I loved the poem. Let me just say that not all Mexicans (as I imagine not all "African refugees") "feel superior" to Chicanos. Actually, I find it difficult to believe that us Mexicans can actually, in fact, in true honesty, feel superior to anyone.

I'm saying this only in purely personal and empirical sense, of course.

 
At 11:32 AM, Blogger RC said...

Living in a part of Texas where the races(Chicano and Mexican)interface so much and in so many contradictory ways it makes for a very interesting intercourse.

 
At 11:46 AM, Blogger Ernesto said...

I couldn't help it and I had a go at translating it. Hope you don't mind. I think it is a fantastic poem and it resonates in me.

My translation is at my blog (neverneutral.wordpress.com)

 

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