My bronx

America.

Shut up.

Dare to observe us in silence.

Get away from the 5 o’clock news

and come live with us.

For years, not for two weeks –

and then you can talk.

Our women are strong.

Our men are capable.

Men, us women are strong.

What you got down there,

we have it up here,

and two more in here, ovaries.

Don’t you dare to call us weak.

Women, don’t you dare put that head down on anyone.

My Bronx, look,

the world is calling you.

Walk for the ones that don’t.

It’s okay to cry—

to cry for the ones that don’t and wouldn’t.

Forgive

for the ones that won’t,

for the ones that believe they can throw the next rock,

for the ones that believe they can look at the speck of others eyes and not consider their own plank.

Hypocrite.

Get in my shoes and then you can talk.

Live my life and then you can talk.

Feel what I feel

and then you can talk.

Look back at yours and, yeah,

Then shut up.

Because no knows what you go through.

Don’t look at me pretending you know

because you know nothing.

My Bronx,

America talks and talks

but they never talk about gentrification.

They call our culture rich and exotic but they never talk about maintaining us alive and well in our communties.

They never ask us what we need, they come and conquer.

They hardly mention our metal detector schools and how little society expect us to succeed.

Wake up

They don’t expect us to succeed

let’s prove them wrong.

Bronx, America talks

most of us stand

mute

and

paralyzed.

we have to work 10 times harder to get half of what White America gets.

We forget

that we only speak of ourselves.

Look at the one next to you:

Lets be a community.

We spent more time criticizing others than  building relationships.

Less excuses

Get up.

In life what’s for you, is for you.

What is not

get it.

So look high, women.

So be strong men.

And I don’t mean with your muscles

I mean with this (your brain)

And this (your heart)

and less of this (private part)

And maybe you’ll find what a real man is.

Women,

you don’t have to be more this (your breasts)

more this (your butt)

or less of this (your waist)

to be pretty enough.

And maybe you’ll know what a real women is.

Those that love you truly

will love you forever.

Those that don’t

loved you never.

My Bronx,

take time to love yourself.

Don’t hide behind covers to please no one.

Bite your tongue for no one,

but know when to speak and what to say.

And what we need to say is that we live in a racist, imperialistic systematic oppression

this war is not with one another,  

we were placed in a life and death struggle

and we can choose whether this exploitation

will unite us or separate us.

“Im not racist” whips us in the back as you contribute to our oppression

and pick up your benefits at the end of the day.

America,

the 5 o'clock news will never tell you about our homes.

they will never tell you about the old men playing dominoes outside with corona beers on the table

or my mother’s kinky curls and her laughter

full of sazon goya.

They will never tell you how hard we work, 2 or 3 jobs to keep surviving.

Yet,

we feel very strong

when we’re the accuser and not the accused,

huh? Us humans aren’t we?

Women, depend on yourself,

men, respect women.

Women,

you are beautiful,

women,

you are beautiful.

By Denisse Cotto AKA Poet Nissy