San Miguel de Allende

San Miguel de Allende
Roof rainbow...San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

Sunday, October 19, 2014

SCAFFOLDS OF (YOUR) VISION

Gracias, Gaudi,
your dreams,
your vision,
your vow

of poverty
to create
such richness,
the humble greatness

of your Spirit
flows, pierces
all humanity,
all gods, goddesses,

all names,
same source,
Great Spirit,
all mountains,

forests, creeks, rivers,
sacred lakes,
sacred seas,
sacred trees

breathing air,
bearing fruit,
sacred fields,
our Mother's body

feeds us, you, us,
marries Earth/Sky,
Sun/Moon,
Winter/Spring,

love/hate/love
dreaming us, Her
Womb, this 
sacred beauty

you created 
for us, I
hear your
sweet laughter,

your life
well spent
in riches,
fever of

dreams, voice,
song, your
daily heart,
young men

still climb the
scaffolds of
your vision,
laughing as

they build
your dream,
sacred sunlight,
well muscled,

pregnant women,
running children, 
those in wheel
chairs, we

enter your
sunlight stained
glass rainbow
dream womb

Earth Sky
dream, I hear
your daily heart
alive, undying,

your sweet 
laughter, tears,
surprise, last
breath, the streets,

metal trolley, your body,
dead, dream, daily heart
undying laughter/vision/light,
gracias, Gaudi. Gracias. 

Barcelona, Spain...October 2014
Alma Luz Villanueva (c)

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

WISDOM

A child was sliced in
half in Palestine, I
saw the photo, wondering 
if he could be put back

together, I wanted more
than anything to put 
him back together, his
four year old head, torso,

his still baby-like 
legs, bare feet, curled
as though to spring to
life, laughing at any

moment, the bloody
torso, the bloody
baby-like legs, bare
feet, his mother will

not ever hear the sweet
ring of his laughter,
from four to manhood,
his bitter tears unshed-

a child was sliced in
half in Palestine today,
among so many children,
the wisdom of Solomon

could not save him, no
love strong enough to 
say, yell, scream, "Here,
take him, let him

live, let him live whole,
intact, alive, do not
slice my beloved child
in half, let him

live!" Wisdom. 

To the children in Palestine,
the children crossing the USA
borders alone, being returned to
danger. Into the Sixth Sun...

Alma Luz Villanueva (c)  August 2014



Saturday, August 2, 2014

INDIAN SUMMER RITUAL

I was born in Indian Summer,
by the sea, at sun set-

I slid from my mother's womb,
face to the sea-

I felt a dolphin leap
from the sea for joy-

I cried in agony because
I was naked, cold, beached-

It was Indian summer
and the clouds were purple-

It was Indian Summer
and Venus glowed in the West-

It was Indian Summer
and the moon rose, a ripe, gold melon-

It was Indian Summer
and fire was in the ascendant-

It was Indian Summer
and I danced and danced with dolphins

all the first night of my birth,
until the eagle's cry brought the sun-

It was Indian Summer,
light wolves and dark wolves howled through the day-

It was Indian Summer
and a snake shed its skin.

Then, and only then, was I properly
human. 


**To the children of Palestine, may
we remember to be human.

Alma Luz Villanueva (c)
From my book, 'DESIRE.' 



Tuesday, May 6, 2014

CHILD

Child of the ancestors,
Goddess, Gods,
queens and kings,

child of dreaming,
myth, wisdom,
pyramids, stone by
stone,
child of visionary
poet kings,
Sor Juana,

child of storytellers
and singers, Octavio
Paz, Rosario Castellanos,
child of perfect
beauty, Frida Kahlo, 
Diego Rivera, on the
500 peso bill,

child of Quetzalcoatl
and Xochiquetzal, la
madre Coatlique, 
great IxChel,

child of Sun and
Moon, every Star,
born to Earth/Sky,

child in tattered clothing,
worn, dirty shoes,
toes exposed, trying to
sell a useless
coupon,
the shiny, abundant
super market, the
blonde woman shakes
her head in disgust,
you beg, eyes
pleading,

hunger, comfort, bath,
clean clothes, some
safety, even love, a
hawk-eyed teen
watches you,
bullies you,

not to stop
begging, pleading,
your useless
coupon,
your brown
dirty hand, 

child of the ancestors, 
would the great poet
king, Nezahualcoyotl,
sing a poem to

you, child of 
despair and
hunger, filth,
your eyes still
shadowed with 

innocence.


                                                         
 Alma Luz Villanueva (c)
San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
May 2014
                                       

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

UNCONQUERED

I eat breakfast
and watch Moctezuma's
throat be slashed, the
conquest unfold,

Sor Juana at the 
top/edge, encircled in
violet, her poet's
heart on fire, La

Virgen carried on a 
banner, Coatlique in
disguise, her skulls
hidden under her

gentle dress, a 
woman giving birth
with great IxChel's
help, as all women

are, umbilical cord
dangling from vagina,
child alive, survivor of
the conquest, I am

a survivor of the 
conquest, a wild
mestiza child, my
poet's heart on 

fire, I am the 
dreamer, one of 
thousands, Moctezuma
slaughtered, terrified of

our dreams, our visions,
now I sit, centuries
later, my dreams,
visions, memory,

intact- I see the
Great Books burning, 
I weep, this I know,
dreams can't be

burned, I see
Sor Juana's 
poet's heart on
fire,

as the woman's 
vagina burns with
birth, IxChel singing,
"Dreamers, you have

survived, each century
your voices stronger,
sweeter, your poet's heart
unconquered, dream

new words,
new stories,
new Great Books, on
fire." 


To Sor Juana's heart

*Written at Instituto Allende, San Miguel de Allende,
Mexico, while gazing at the magnificent mural of
Mexico's his/herstory, on fire, unconquered. 
March 2014


Alma Luz Villanueva
(c) copyright, 2014 

Thursday, October 3, 2013

BRIDE

Death paused
for me, I ran
across the
slender, cobbled

street, mourners
behind black
hearse, all
walking to the

graveyard, they
will make the
grave so beautiful,
flowers, favorite

things, bottle of
tequila perhaps, they
know their beloved
dead, their ancestors,

it will be so
beautiful, they
will return Dia de
Los Muertos to weep,

laugh, share
their family
feast, remember 
this life.
        *        *        *
I arrive for breakfast,
courtyard fountain, mural
of Mexico to gaze at, a 
child still connected to

her mother's vagina, cord
not cut, just born, her
ecstatic body- teens
carry stacked chairs on

their backs, hauling huge
tables, velvet sofas, into
the courtyard, men create a
dance floor, women scatter

candles everywhere, fire,
joy for the wedding, fire,
joy tonight, the wedding-
an older woman calmly fills

each tier of the central
fountain with paradise,
armloads of paradise,
rainbows of paradise,

the scent of paradise
reaches me, a wise
hummingbird pauses to
sip paradise, her

rainbow body blinds
me with fire, with
joy, every human
moment becomes

married within me,
death/transformation,
birth/transformation,
wedding/transformation,

my white-light
blinding umbilical
cord still
connected to

La Madre Cosmica,
I am her daughter,
I am her human,
I am her bride. 

                                         San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
                                              October 2013, My birth day...