Archive for the ‘Poems and Photos’ Category

Angelo J. Sandoval

I shed a few tears last night
as the choir and congregation began
to sing the song of your apparitions
I shed tears of sad
tears of happiness and joy.

Those tears of sadness were for your
Devote son, who has left this earthly
place, who no longer graces our day
with the song of your apparition
Tears of sadness because we no longer
get to share funny and serious moments
with your devoted son.

I shed tears of happiness because
You have given me a sign of peace
the song of your apparitions
bring solace to my heart
brings a message of hope
that your devoted son is now with you
With you in his eternal morada
In graces of your Son, his friend, Jesus.

I shed tears of joy
because I knew in that moment
of song and praise to you, Madrecita
your devoted son was at my side
singing with choir and congregation
your apparitions.
I felt the joy of his
presence next to my family and me.
The joy that over came my heart as
your song was being song with
faith and devotion
every note
every word
Came from the heart of all your faithful
Your devoted son came to praise you
he sat with me and we praised you,
You, a loving mother of our spiritual being
You a loving mother who has never
abandoned us, especially in our
time of need.

My tears were many
and my heart is now at peace.






Angelo J. Sandoval

En busca de la Santa Misa
dedicada a La Virgen Morena
Anduve por tierra sagrada
tierra Chimayosa
bendita y saludable
El Nichito de la Guadalupana
me puse a ver,
mi corazon se lleno de alegria
cuando a mi Virgencita llege de ver
Ayi en su nichito
mirando a sus fieles llegar
a tierra sagrada.
Tierra que cura con el poder de Dios.
Mi Virgen Santa
a su rinconcito regreso.

El humilde San Juan Diegito
con su Madre se reunió
Ojos fijos con los de su Virgencita
El Milagro del Tepeyac
Llego a la tierra sagrada del
Santuario de Chimayo
Viendo a mi Virgencita en su
nichito mi corazon se lleno de
jubilo y alegria
Virgen Santa Maria Guadalupana
a tu nichito has regresado.




Angelo J. Sandoval

Humility has come my way,
as mother and son cleaned
away dust and cobwebs,
swept and mopped ancient floors
I am reminded of ancient
traditions, passed down through generations
of grandparents and parents to children
I stand on sacred ground where my
baptism and First Communion
took place, the same sacred space
where my antepasados shared those
sacred sacraments.
Sacred space where Penitentes
have graced the community with
ancient prayers and sacrifices.

I am humbled to be Mayordome
of sacred space,
entrusted to care for the house
of God.
Entrusted with the memory of
and blessed by ancianos to maintain
traditions and customs
of nearly 200 years in our beloved,
San Antonio de Padua del Pueblo Quemado.

I’m have been blessed by the
spirit of my antepasados
as the years go by
their memories will live
my daughters will so be
keeps of sacred space and traditions,
as the torch was given to me,
I to will pass it to my children
and some day to my grandchildren.
On this day three generations
shared a gift given to us by our ancestors.



©Angelo J. Sandoval

Part I

Nestled in a reconcito,
I have seen you in the corner
of my eye as I have
driven by your
humble exterior.

I didn’t pay much attention
to your presence,
but the few times I did catch
a glimpse of you,
I wondered if you were
offering sacred prayer space,
yet didn’t bother to find out.

I heard from news sources
you had been violated.
Your sacred space,
treated with disrespect.
Your heart was taken from you.
Ancient relics that carried
prayers of antepasados
stolen from the sacredness


Part II

My heart broke into pieces
as I read the news of your torment
You, the heart of a community
the refuge of the lonely
Violated by one of your
sons or

The heart that is You,
was taken,
taken to unknown places
Lost to the cycle of addiction
that plagues your community
The same community that cares
for you,
that made every effort to protect you.

My heart is broken.



Angelo J. Sandoval

The search for indeginous
identity roots
My journey has been
full of adventure.
I search the spiritual
en mi querido Norté.

I traveled to Alcatraz Island,
celebrating sunrise ceremonies
antepasados making there
presence known
as Father Sun breaks over the horizon,
Grandmother Moon slowly begins
her decent in to the ocean’s horizon.

The beauty of the Morning Star
Came to bless us with love prayer
trails to the ancestors in the other world.

I search for a story which has been
lost to the winds of time.
names of sacred spaces unknown
Spanish corrupted names
leave my mind wondering
wondering where
where did they go?
Why did they go?
No answers.

Adventure seeks me out
Visiting ancient ruins
of a forgotten city.

Lost to the winds of time
reasons why,
why an ancient city was left behind.
I found peace at the ruins site.

For once the unknown
became, ok.
I came to a place labelled, ruins.

Narrated videos of dependents
of ancient people remind us,
These spaces are not ruins,
they are home to ancestor spirits.

I enter sacred space, the Great Kiva.
The energy of ancient peoples are
ever present,
I make two visits in to this sacred space.
I close my eyes and daydream of lost
Alto Huachín Kiva,
lost sacred space
lost stories of creation, love, family, and the beyond.

One more piece of the puzzle found,
yet it doesn’t find its fitted place in my
people’s lost history.

Sacred space, the Great Kiva
your gift of sacred space will
live in my heart till the end of my days.
Entering your sacred space without
the need of a card to prove my lost
indigenous identity,
Your sacred space gave healing
to a lost soul.






The photo were taken at Aztec Ruins National Park in Aztec, New Mexico.

©Angelo J. Sandoval

I look toward the New Mexico sky,
the heavens above
sun sets approach the day
evening sets in,
the clouds, fire red
turning bright orange as the sun sets.

The clouds, silent
as the day passes
the clouds witness the
beauty that is New Mexico
and the ugliness, just the same

These silent clouds hold in them
the secrets of negativity,
the load voices of a people from an Enchanted Land.

These silent clouds
burn with the Sun’s rays
as Father Sun
makes his way behind the
Jemez Mountains.

These silent clouds
keep secrets hidden
in their soft fluffy woolly body
the secrets of enchanted dreams
and repulsive nightmares

These silent clouds
protect word of
prayers uttered by
enchanted hearts and souls
the clouds silence has
no room for judgment
only a healing presence.

The glow of fire sun as it sets
The clouds take your words with them
as they fade in the night sky






©Angelo J. Sandoval

I visited sacred land
tierra sagrada
the ancients of on this
place make their presence known
Cool shade drapes over me as
I stand under large shady trees
Their presence is felt with cool
tranquil calm.

Holy dirt,
Sacred ground

Symbols of faith surrounding
Me like cool breeze and spirit whispers.

Crosses nailed to trees holding
rosary beads with prayers of healing
left behind by prayer warriors on
sacred journey to sacred land.

Prayers left for the ancients
to carry to the heavens.

Chain linked fences full of prayer
Like the air full of ancient spirits
Guarding sacred spaces.
Crosses line the fence
like spirits line the the mountain side
with prayers acceding to the heavens

My heart felt at peace
standing on sacred ground
Spirit guardians touch my heart
as I reflect on sacred symbols
nailed to trees,
holding rosary beads,
lining chain link fences,
My faith is restored,
my faith is solidified, once again.





©Angelo J. Sandoval

I look into the heavens
old man Cloud,
I notice his face
pale white pressed on
blue skies.
Rains have come by his grace.
Expressed expression
of sadness are evident
as old man Cloud has
one eye closed in
painful emotions.
Old man Cloud
Saddened by the horrors
Death dying
children suffering
adult world horrors.
Violence defaces
Mother Earth
Old man Cloud

Old man Cloud
Fades from Father Sky
Old man Cloud




This is a one year anniversary tribute to my Tio Onivas Jose Sandoval, who journeyed to the other world a year ago today. My Tio was one of the humblest of men and had a heart of gold. He would was from the old world. He believed in respect and hard work. He was a man of dignity. He was a man who loved his family and his children with all his heart. My Tio was devoted to La Virgen de Guadalupe, singing her songs in the mornings in the loudest of voices. My Tio was an awesome man.

May you rest in peace, Tio.

Angelo J. Sandoval
(c) 03-24-2014

Its been a year,
Un ano.
Quando el mundo cambio por siempre
Nuestro Tata Dios mando
sus angels to call home
a la eterna Morada
a su hijo querido.
Los Angeles llegaron
con sus trompetas sonando
la musica santa de Dios
cantando las glorias y alegrias del Cielo.

A pasar un ano
la tristeza viene y se van
los recuerdos de tiempos pasados
las alegrias
las tristezas
todos son recuerdos de tu vida

Hace un ano que al cielo
de fuiste
te fuiste a estar con tus padres
hermanos, y tus sobrinos

Hace un ano que a tu
casa celestial te fuiste

Hace un ano que te reuniste
con tu querida, como paso la reunion?
Como fue tu primer visita con mi Tia
al llegar al cielo?

Le ruego al Senor que
tu corazon sea lleno
de alegria al llegar a ver a tu querida
y los demas de la familia

Hace un ano que al cielo te fuiste
este ano que paso
no recordamos du muerte,
pero celebramos los recuerdos de tu vida.

Hace un ano y el mundo
no es lo mismo si tu presencia
Hace un ano, pero no te hemos olvidado.
Hace un ano, y todavia recordamos
tus consejos y cuentos que nos cuentabas.
Hace un ano.




Angelo J. Sandoval
(c) 1-26-2014

I visited sacred ground
a place that holds healing powers
from ancient times
a sacred place where
pilgrims of all corners
of the earth come in search
of healing dirt.

Sacred site to ancient
cultures and peoples of these lands.
I visit this sacred place
to celebrate sacred rituals
remembering miracles of
years pasted,
honoring antepasados
and the faith they left behind.

I approach a place of prayer
to visit La Virgen Morena
in her nicho de pierda.
I see her faithful servant
and her chosen witness,
witness to a great miracle.
Juan Diego, solo en es nichito
La Virgencita, no estaba.

It was said, the image of
La Morenita had been stolen.
The worst of all sins,
made its way to a place of holiness.
The faith of my antepasados has been
offended with such an act of cowardness
There is an emptiness at the nichito
Juan Diego, solo
en busca de su Ninita querida.

Offering prayers,
having esperanza y fe
Que el perdon alcanse
a esa alma que se llevo
a mi Morenita.
Que mi Morenita lo
quide y lo cobije con su manto.

The sacrilege of the world
has entered sacred ground.
Respect for sacred spaces
has begun to crumble
like old adobe walls.
Respect has lost its place
in a world where ancient wisdom
has been shoved in nooks and
crannies of society.

Sacred spaces have lost there value
in a society where money is glorified
above the teachings of our antepasados.
La fe de los antepasados se pierde
un poco cada dia
Ya ni respecto hay pa’ las cosas de Dios.
Los tiempos cambian pero los valores
de la comunidad no soponen de cambiar
con l out s tiempos,
pero a hece fin a llegado este mundo.