City College Students

CITY COLLEGE STUDENTS

CASTILLITOS EN EL AIRE

I cannot afford to build a castle in the sky. No.

The ruins of my castle have been buried for a wile now,

so deep in the mud pit.

I can't get them out.

Not while the world operates this way,

where color pallets are held, cold and sharp,

against our throats

to determine our worth.

What chance do I have to meet those standards?

If my whole race was born

from massive and chronic rape.

I carry violence and trauma in my veins.

They like to call it "mestizaje"

What a pretty name!

Is that what they called it

in my native ancestors' tongue?

No!

I can't unbury my castle,

believe in magic and hope.

Not when the size of my breasts, my waist, and my culo

determine my worth.

And no matter how big or small

my vagina will always be a disadvantage.

Tell me,

How can I ever win?

Oh, you say to get over it, right? That I shall dig out my castle.

Tell me then,

Where are you looking at me from?

Can you afford to build your castle up above, outside the mud?

Must be nice to look up

and witness the sky glow.

But tell me!

When you look down, if you ever do, what do you see?

Do you

see me?

Roxanna Cardenas Colmenares

SOUL TRAIN

Inspired by the song "Lifting You" by Jungle

The bassline hits like a slow sunrise,

Warmth in your chest, wide open skies.

No need for words, just breath and sway,

The groove speaks louder anyway.

Hands in the air, engulfed in euphoria,

Feet forget the ground, dancing in pure ecstasy

The chorus wraps you like silk on skin

A rhythm so smooth, you lose yourself within.

It’s not about escape, but more like flight,

A tether to joy in the heat of the night.

You move through air like smoke or heat,

Each beat a brush, each pause a beat.

Drums tap like heartbeats finding their pace,

But it feels like divine grace.

A dancefloor prayer in a neon space.

Where every move is a soft embrace.

In the pulse, the beat, the break, the hue-

This is more than sound, it’s something true.

It’s not the world that's changing, but it's rising slow,

And it's changing you.

Jose Gonzalez

I WANTED TO BE A MOVIE STAR ONCE

Say it again—

there is a strumming in my veins

I lashed out and then I backed up

got mine

and then some

don't worry

bout that

heads, they just bleed

my bones are okay

take what you need

nobody falls apart

better than me

I do it constantly

flawlessly

effortless, they say

as they take and they break

off little pieces of who I am

or used to be

I wanted to be

a movie star once.

Taylor Gorgano

QUESTIONS FOR MY BODY

Do you cry enough

Did you betray my mind again

Was that a disdainful eye you cast to the house of God

When was the last time you knelt to him

Why do you hide

Will you be feeble

Is the ink enough

Perhaps another cigarette

Are you in love again

Nafeeza Khanam

I AM AT A CROSSROADS BETWEEN POETRY AND RHETORIC

After Audre Lorde, “Power”

The difference lies within the intention.

A mother yearns for a time machine,

so she could escape with her

children's lives,

husband's,

sister's...

Trapped in a rubble of what she once called home,

a pile of useless bricks that can

no longer keep out the cold,

or monsters that come at night.

No food and water in sight, she eats grass

where she used to make her mother's favorite, fatayer.

This mother holds onto pieces of the baby

she spent months growing,

and years praying to conceive.

Hoping she can heal all

with kisses and tears.

Soldier abuse their power,

collecting their trophy underwear,

a new badge of honor.

Over 41, 500 lives reduced to ash in Gaza,

at least 16,000 children,

each one, someone’s entire world.

And there were voices that cheered as bombs fell

on sleeping babies, hospitals, food banks...

Those voices, rip away the power of Palestinians

censoring journalists with bullets.

They justify it and find joy in destruction

using there tears as fuel to the flame.

Briana Mercado