This poem wants to be revolutionary (after Mari Roberts) | En La Orilla

This poem wants to be revolutionary (after Mari Roberts) | En La Orilla

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Boricuas Stand Up!

always passed by never knew what it was

Woodrow Wilson Triangle

This text is part of Parks’ Historical Signs Project and can be found posted within the park. Clason Point War Memorial
This monument honors the residents of Clason Point who gave their lives during World War I. The seven-foot high bronze sculptural relief of a female figure, by James Novelli (1885–1940), is set within an 11-foot tall, gray granite stele. The work was commissioned at a cost of $3,500 by the residents of Clason Point in 1928.

Clason Point is a community in the central Bronx bounded by White Plains Road and the Bruckner Expressway to the north, Pugsley’s Creek to the east, the East River to the south, and the Bronx River to the west. Early inhabitants were Siwanoy Native Americans, whose villages dotted the nearby shoreline of what is today the Bronx. European settlers dubbed the peninsula Cornell’s Neck (after local farmer Thomas Cornell), and it was later renamed for Isaac Clason, a wealthy local merchant.

The sculptor James Novelli was born in Sulmona, a province of Aquila, Italy, in 1885. His family settled in New York when he was five years old, and at an early age he impressed his teachers at P.S. 23 with his natural artistic skill. Novelli returned to Italy in 1903 to study, and while a student earned an honorable mention for his artwork submitted to the International Exposition in Paris, France, in 1906. He graduated from the Royal Academy of Rome in 1908.

Returning to New York, where he resided at West 23rd Street in Manhattan, Novelli was much in demand as a sculptor of funeral and public monuments. Besides this monument, he also created the Saratoga Park War Memorial (1921; stolen and destroyed in 2000) in Brooklyn, the Winfield War Memorial (1926) in Queens, and bronze mausoleum doors in Calvary Cemetery (1923) for which he won the Henry O. Avery Prize for sculpture. In the 1930s, Novelli worked on Parks monuments conservation crew. However, during the Great Depression, his own artistic career languished, and after growing increasingly despondent, Novelli took his own life in 1940.

The City acquired this modest triangle in 1912 through condemnation when it was laying out streets in the vicinity. It became parkland in 1927, and was named Woodrow Wilson Square (later modified to Triangle) after Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924), the 28th President of the United States. During his long and active career in and out of government, Wilson served as president of Princeton University (1902–1910), governor of New Jersey (1911–1913) and for two terms as President of the United States(1913–1921). He was actively involved in the World War I armistice and the creation of the League of Nations, and for his efforts was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1919.

The Clason Point War Memorial includes inspirational quotations by presidents George Washington (1732–1799), Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865), William McKinley (1843–1901), and Wilson. The latter, alluding to the Wilson administration’s role in World War I and the Treaty of Versailles peace agreement, reads, “That the world may be made safe for democracy.”

In the fall of 2000, the Parks monuments crew cleaned the stele, and refinished the bronze relief by Novelli. Already containing a venerable American elm tree (Ulnus americana), and existing pagoda dogwoods (Cornus alternifolia) and a Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), the surrounding site was upgraded through a city-sponsored Greenstreets contract. The renovation included new sidewalks, sod, and the inclusion of an Eastern redbud flowering tree (Cercis canadensis), an Eastern redcedar shrub (Juniperus virginiana), fountain grass (Pennisetum setaceum), rose bay rhododendron, black-eyed susan flowers (Rudbeckia hirta), and a spreading English yew (Taxus baccat).

throwback post from the reverend

the reverend's last interview...he prescribes what our future should be.....

"First draft is you scribbling it on a notebook, or a paper, or a napkin and you read it there. And if you make mistakes, man, it makes the poem much more interesting and exciting, and that’s when history started being made....Spanglish is not an indication of an inferior mind, but it is an indication of an imagination that should be completely fertile. You got to be brilliant, not dumb!...I want to get better. I am getting better, but not by following orders. I have to do my own thing..... There’s no end to the phenomenon, The First Draft Nuyorican Poetry Movement."

props to acentos...new shit!!!

New Bio

Anthony Morales is a writer/educator from the Bronx who has appeared on HBO's Def Poetry and toured the US and Puerto Rico. He currently is a English facilitator at El Puente Academy for Peace and Justice in Brooklyn, NY. He has published three books, Story Avenue (2004), Chevere Cafre (2009), and Dice Queso (2010). Most recently, he was published in a Puerto Rican multimedia multigenre journal, enlaorilla.com. Look out for the digital wave in 2011 and beyond.


Barrios Suave Rico

His purpose was not punctuality

Wore clothes three sizes too big
So they could be handed down

Dragged himself to class
Like the empty bookbag about to fall
Flat with an empty binder

Sancocho method of notetaking
Mezcla in mind

Wants everything he feels he is owed
In the future to drop from the sky

Tomorrow so that life could be easy
Without having to do work

School is just sucking
Away time I could be asleep

An even brighter idea to nod off
In the closet baba coming from
A mouth used for talking shit
As opposed to building nations

Borinken breaks its back
Everytime you get left behind

The flag flies a lil lower when you fail
Coquis stop cantando when you quit
When El Cantante sang Mi Gente
He really mean ustedes

Realize our liberty is tied
To your independent spirit

But when you feel hopeless
It is a creature of your own design

The patent is pending on you ending the pain
Your brain is your greatest natural resource
But intelligence is in short supply

Demand on dumbshit could overflow
The dow jones with shocking bondage

Chained to the corner claimed you were committed
But the ghetto’s grown on you
Like a street sign in the middle of your forehead

The sidewalk traces your steps
For guidance you growl at the gutter

Take every bit of hood wisdom uttered
To certify your authentic credentials are fitted

In the image of funnyhouse mirrors
With distorted reflections on your visions of perfection

Knowledge of self greatest weapon
Against self deception

When you are slipping
You are stuck on stupid

Your destiny gets destroyed
By decibels of ignorance screaming
I don’t give a fuck

The sky whispered
God bless
Good luck

Always be divine

Even though we mixing the messages
It will be constantly sent

No ignoring the radius
Of sonic airwaves

This is available whenever
Maybe the path where
You thought you wouldn’t be

Why is me
In the middle of this exodus

Seeking genesis to remember
This anger jealous of everything

We reject project the experiment
On avenues so grand
Wouldn’t you be a little shaky

With your mystery not meant for
The misery though it loves
Franchising and outsourcing the company

Running from fear
Turning towards respect and reverence

The evidence is the experience
An expert at showing the love

Waxing gross to display raw elements
No pretending in the temple

Which continues to throb
Shopping for inspiration

Reconnect with the roots
Be fruitful with your knowledge
Never cutting off your wisdom
Most definitely saying grace

Saving those blessings
To gain interest but never for just
The end means brand new beginning
Worthy to receive immaculate
Exclusive so please don’t touch the radio

To remind of the renaissance
When discipline determination
Began testing your patience

Waited for the sign
Been posted in front of face

Never late just in time for introduction
Seduction of spirit dancing salsa

To your struggle watusi chachacha hustle
Bugalu to your blues

Not meant to be confused speaking parables
If you hearing then listen
If you seeing look closer

Exposure naked without shame
Laying blame for burning bush

Hoping you would recognize
Times wanting savior
To shake cage rattle chains

Tossing devils in fire
Temptation never tires
The Diablo a liar

Every prayer makes the warrior
Move forward on the mission

No false religion
When God on speed dial

Feel the spirit in words
When you free style