The Thirsty Coochie ©2016 Maricel Jiménez

So I work in advertising, and every once in a while we get jobs about subjects that aren't always the most fun. But of course, I like to make it fun, so this poem was inspired by an account we've been working on. It's a treatment for menopause symptoms and well... What can I say, I was inspired. THE THIRSTY…

0 Comments

Bug Warrior

Mientras su cuerpecito hinchado de sangre agonizaba, yo veía salir el humo de lo que había sido con placer. El fuerte olor a pellejo carbonizado penetraba mis narices inundándome de gozo. ¡Qué mucho disfrutaba esos momentos simples de torturar insectos!

0 Comments

What’s with all the shit about REAL women?

I'm sick and tired of seeing headlines that read something like: "How real women look", "This is how a real woman works out," "Real women have curves," etc. Well... I get the feeling the people who write these articles have underlying complexes. Because what I see everywhere are real women. Some are skinny, some are fat, some are beautifully well-rounded, and none…

0 Comments

Momentos

Hay momentos de silencio... de sentirMomentos donde no caben las palabrasDonde las lágrimas valen mejor Hay momentos de sueñoCuando el letargo se mezcla con la melancolía de besos del antañoMomentos cuando la tinta busca el papel Hay momentos de euforiaDe risas inexplicablesY brillos compartidos...Momentos que bastan Hay momentos que quedanQue sólo esperan el recuerdo para revivirseHay momentos invisibles...Como ahora. © 2014 Maricel Jiménez Peña 1/21/2014  

0 Comments

Nobody crawls anyway

Recently I read an article about a new book coming out called "Slow Parenting". Slow parenting is about letting kids be and grow at their own pace. It's about not rushing their developmental milestones and forgetting the timeline printed in books. I discovered this on my own with my second child. He was a slow walker, talker, teether, potty trainer,…

1 Comment
Read more about the article Crezco
pumpkin spiral

Crezco

Me doy cuenta de que crezcoCrezco como enredadera trepando los postesMe observo de arriba y crezco Crezco,Convirtiéndome en mujerDe la niña retengo la habilidad de soñarCon la mujer adquirí el dolor de la realidadLa Diosa me concede una sonrisaY piernas fuertes para bailar La barba del Viejo brillaPlateada bajo la luz de la lunaMe inunda de sus pensamientosAlimentando los míos Y crezco,Crezco porque no…

0 Comments

That's it! You've scrolled through the entire blog. Awesome!

Oops! Looks like a glitch. Try a page refresh.