Jangle

Open expression.

Hot, HOT, HEAT.

Rare. Obscure.

We desire

To be manipulated.

We look for new invasion.

Experiments.

Submissions.

Psychadelia playing influence.

Rhythm. Touch.

Beats happening.

Puzzle pieces.

An organic fusion

In the jingle jangle morning.

-Marisol Tena (2/19/10)

Trust and Trepidation

Standing at the river’s edge
I look down upon the churning rush
How deep and dark at first inspection
Ominous of wrath and fury

Sharp rocks, I spy
Would meet my entirety
Were I to foolishly
Put faith in the current

As I, still, ponder this risky endeavor
I realize that my trust is mine
And mine to freely let flow
Wherever whim and spirit guide me

I make up my mind
To follow my heart
And hope that these waters
Prove friendly enough

Moving forward
I step lightly into shallow torrent
Cold at first, I shiver
But body shuts out cold and locks in warmth

I feel the urgency
Of the water’s intemperance
And its need to reject
A believer’s acceptance

Defiantly, I continue still forward
On my resolute mission
For I sense that this turbulence
Is but reactionary folly and misdirected trepidation.


-Marisol Tena (6/8/09)

Unfortunate Naiveté

Flipping through an old photo album

I there found a picture from five years past

It was a picture of my best friend and sweetheart

And of me standing right beside him

It was a picture of simpler times

When I did not truly know

About the severe evils that lurk in the world

A baby-faced twenty two year-old girl

Big brown eyes and a sweet pink smile

I sat there as I reminisced

On what was then a comfortable default

And pre-battle innocence

A time in which I did not question

The validity of myself

Or my right to have emotions

A snapshot of a girl

Who knew the world could be so cruel

But had not yet ventured

To experience it herself

That girl did not yet seem to harbor

Resentments for terrible things done to her

Although, as I looked closer

There did seem to be something behind her stare

A quiet pain hidden by a clever-cute smirk

And a desperate need to project normality

Suddenly I realized

That I remembered that girl

The girl who filled her time

With attempts at something greater

Something that would give her life meaning

And that would truly make her

A better person

Than she earnestly thought she was.

That girl I did feel sorry for

As I saw her presumably happy face

Because of what I know now

And what she had yet to discover.

-Marisol Tena (5/31/09)

Failure

Another one down,
Another one gone.
Another one lost,
Where did we go wrong?

-Marisol Tena (1/27/09)

Little Girl Lost

A funky little girl
She loves to make you smile
Dances, sings, and says silly things
Her friends are worth her while

Till one day she arrives
And everyone sees a change
Suddenly she’s grumpy
She’s been acting very strange

You can see that she’s been trying
Trying to do her best
But whatever’s been molesting her
Has left her in distress

The little girl begins a spiral
She’s been trying to get attention
Her teachers don’t know what to do
So they send her to detention

There she meets and intermingles
With other kids who command respect
Now she’s got a whole new crowd
It’s not what anyone had come to expect

They take her by the hand
And they lead her way astray
They sneak her in and out of rooms
Her hair and clothes in disarray

There are rumors flying ‘round the school
You call upon the “right” intellect
But you find it difficult to do a thing
Within a system so inept

Now the little girl is not so little
Her face shows wear and tear
Before you know it she is gone
To another group in disrepair

Every now and then you stop to think
You wonder what became of her
But for sanity’s sake you cannot dwell
If you hope to last another year.


-Marisol Tena (12/18/08)

Humble Girls and Desperate Foreigners

The Passionate Foreigner to His Lost Love

Come back to me and be my Love
And all the world I'll place at your feet
The sun, the moon, the stars, my Love
A magickally romantic time with me.

I'll take you to Paris
I'll take you to Rome
I'll take you to London
I'll show you my home.
My darling, my baby
My angel of the highest order
All these wonderful things I'll show you
If you come back to me and be my Love.

I missed your eyes, I missed your hair
I missed your lips, your skin so bare
But most of all I missed your heart
That perfect, pure, and loving heart.

I need you, sweetheart. I need YOUR energy
I'll give and do for you whatever you need
And all these differences you'll see
If you come back to me and be my Love.

The Humble Girl's Reply to a Slick Foreigner

If I went back to you and were your Love
Then all my world would crumble
The sun, the moon, the stars I would not see
For when I am with you I lose sight of Me.

You talk about culture and where we should go
Travel to Europe and visit your home
You try to impress me with all that you have
When truly you've nothing to show for yourself.

Your darling? Your baby?
Your angel? Oh, please!
Don't think that I'm stupid
Don't patronize me!

I missed you too, missed you terribly
I missed your kisses and your arms around me
But I do not miss the darkness surrounding thee
And how you took everything away from me.

Go back to you and be your "Love"?
I know exactly what that means...
Fool me once, shame on you
But fool me twice then shame on me.

-Marisol Tena (12/8/08)

*Special thanks to Christopher Marlowe and Sir Walter Raleigh for the inspiration

Unjustified Hope

Nations dispute. People fight.

Innocent civilians die.

Once immaculate childhoods

are now shattered and in a state of confusion.

We all fight. We all assume.

We all are quick to judge

and the judged are quickly murdered.

Power hungry. Money hungry.

All hungry for anything

that we can get our filthy piggy hands on.

Oil. Black gold.

"Don't destroy your nation's riches"...

(because then we can't have them).

Freedom. From what?

An evil dictator

or a self-glorifying peoples across the sea?

All ugly. Everything grey.

Sand. In my eyes.

I'm hungry. I need food.

What will I feed my children?

Sand.

It's in my lungs. It burns.

Flying boxes through the air.

Salvation? No.

Just enough for the next week.

"It will be quick. Only about three weeks long."

LIARS!

"We originally thought it would be quick

but we now foresee the war going

for six months. Maybe more."

People drop.

Children mangled.

Parents gone.

While we worry about Priscilla Presley's love life.

Shallow.

Awards are handed to actors and actresses.

While mothers are praying

for their sons and daughters to come home safe.

We all look amazed

at the pretty sequins and chantilly lace.

But pause to speak: nobody listens.

(Speak louder. They hear you)

They seem to understand but most are just followers.

They don't really care.

And others just won't hear of it.

Cover your eyes. Cover your ears.

But you can still sense the danger.

Cowards.

We sit. We wait.

We hope for the best.

New-found patriotism and sudden belief in anything.

God. Allah. Buddha. Nature.

All the same.

Same basic principle.

"Do unto others

As you would have them do unto you."

Resolution? Maybe.

Downfall of dictatorship? Don't know.

Peace on earth? Not likely.

But it's nice to hope for something.

-Marisol Tena (3/03)