Friday, April 11, 2014

Cuban's Sweet Tooth by Maritza Soto

mr. Goodbar
At least in my eyes I’ve been conditioned to never taste his
bad side. The true richness of his soul and his chocolate
covered protection plan over the family always kept us alive.
Now we’ve let him rest in peace, expired May 2010.

Tic Tac

Was like a time bomb counting the seconds it would take my
father to split an argument with my mother. Walking through
the living room, you can smell the vents of an angry man mean
mugging while washing clothes. Exchanges of dirty words betw-
een him and them lasting minutes before they would take their
next breath, mint. 

Ice Breakers

Your undivided attention was all I needed to break that silence
between my mom and my sister. Little miss me governing the
post across our bedroom door, finally, to catch on to the
disturbing pauses of inflictions demanding love from her little
sister. Withholding a bond from a 3 year old baby sister causing
unwanted space to be broken. Healing was needed, and soon.   
Life Savers

Me and God restoring our custom made family tree from
destroying life boats. Sinking deep into depression, unable
to connect to their lack of motivation. Crossing from seas
far away, why allowing the waves along the way distance
a story that almost cost them their life? They’ve come a
long way from black destruction.

Atomic FireBalls
Communist presentations, advertising false declarations, all
to prove proper insanity. A country so far from its led, protesting,
pitching to leave. You got micro-managing favorites and women force
to give up their own babies. What’s the point of delivery if we can’t order
in self-made equality.  Sticky leaves and ditches, rocks and metal detectors
formulated together by innocent women trying to make a day. Time Is clicking.


It’s my country crying out for victory, Por favor! Someone please come
help me. Screams of unfairness is under the tone of men and women
struggling. Volunteer to unleash those things that’s baking in my bones,
seeing my family without a home is bursting the blood in me. Roots
to vain, tears to pain are being built to re-create a history that’s misused
to gain burst of color entertained.


My twist in pop culture. Magazines couldn’t describe the sounds of Latin
drinks. Mojitos, Cuba libre y café con leche is a mixer that no one can ever
forget. The music bouncing off your rear view mirror, a flavor to strong for
the beats to surrender. African drums with big cigars, only a Cuban man’s jokes
can make-up a song following the rhythm of Pit bulls international lyrics.

Free lancing in the drug business worse than Tony Mantana’s last history.
constantly tripling money exchanges overseas isn’t going to satisfy Cuban
refuges from smoking the dealers hand out of his last penny. Bills to pay,
houses to reframe before the government takes them all away.  There’s
too many airheads in this company to draw a case in Dade-county’s public

Theirs danger behind the brains in Latin country compared to the way
physicians handle hard heads in America’s industry.  One thing this state
seemed to had caught on to was how immigrants with white coats manage
 to squeeze sour filled knowledge into America’s system, yet  who considers
their license to be revoked and out of date too. 

3 Musketeers

Siblings: Queen, King, and a princess. Amazingly in the same order
is how my mother and her mother birthed three children in this family.
often the order of reality never really mattered though, the respect
tended to follow the individual who had more taste in the work field. 

Milky [Cuban]Way

Are the ways of a Cuban, bad habits. Loud talks, “OYE!!! ACERE!!!! QUE
BOLA!!! While grocery shopping, kids along the waist and accompanying
slight comments about the woman who’s slowing pacing her way to the
next ale. Not to mention the priceless moments when mommy opens up
 a pack of Cuban crackers as she scratches out items off her list.   

Pop Rocks
Showing off our funky dance moves, eating pan con lechon y un batido
De papya con azuca, celebrating the days of the week is the energy we
Latin American family’s can relate to. Flashy thick 14k gold jewelry is our
Model look for most Cuban women who enjoy spending money on objects
That defines us. 

Gummy Bears

We stick together like glue and paint. Carrying each other’s
last name is a legacy never unclaimed. Though we fight and
fuss to steal the final word, the meaning of family is much
stronger than a trunk rooted in dirt. Mama bear, papa bear
and little bear is all who we got in our generation, so we must
fight the battle of our make-up against hatred people. 

Deserted feet’s planted on a farm, unable to hold its balance
from its awful, painful stokes. It seems like every five minutes
the sun comes out, their hands melts down. Fingers to thumb,
all strengths are being used to eat one food. 


My brother and his selfish ways. The battles he would fight against
his PS games. Never understanding who was our enemy, him or the
strange looking animals on mama’s old antenna screen. Accidently
touching a button was like going to war.  

 Now and Later

Con el tiempo más tarde, el cariño de una madre nunca se pone vieja.
Su sueños se sienten como rosas y su ambiente como el sabor de una
fresa. Tranquilamente buscando el sol que alumbre su corazón. El amor
de una madre, un espacio sin límites.  

Mike and Ike

Come in a distinctive shape and sizes yet in different colors and flavors.
this too is to be expected in Latin culture. Although we are all Spanish
speaking countries with similar homes built in, what sets Cubans apart
from Puerto Ricans is our diverse language shredded into street Spanglish.
our shades in skin complexions can’t pole us apart if we head back to Africa
where our ancestors were originally from.

Red Hots

Impossible to disclaim this tropical environment. Less winters and long
summer is just about what you can imagine when you think of an island
that burns hot suns 95% of the day. Sweat that heat up double the temperature
of grandma’s easy oven bake. Take them out, hats, sunglasses and screens but it
will only do the bare minimum on a skin that’s not use to boiling.

Jelly Beans

Hard headed on the outside Lil Eli, ignores the cares of his steep falls but the softness
Of his insides triggers the deep feelings of his heart to cry. Quickly holding him by
A skin that’s only grown 6 months, hoping he soon understands the love of a
concern mother.

Sugar Daddy’s

Were more like cheap tricks on half Price books for dummies. Tendencies
of raggedy old men chasing after women with low-priced lipsticks last
only, but a minute while the women in my country learn how to switch
salsas with men whose pen no longer strikes zeros at the ends... 

-Maritza Soto

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