Posts Tagged ‘New Mexico’

It’s been awhile since I last posted to my blog. Many ideas have come and gone. Many thoughts have been lost to time and space. Today, I want to just share with you a few images of out Most Loving Mother of Guadalupe on her feast day. 

I ask of her to pray that I am able to get back to my poetry. Life gets overwhelming and can discourage you from doing the things that help keep life balanced. 

I hope you all enjoy these images and that you continue with your faith and that you increase your prayers and learning of your Catholic faith. I pray for all of you and please all of you pray that I am able to return to writing poetry. 

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Angelo J. Sandoval
©12-13-2014

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.

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Angelo J. Sandoval
©8.30.14

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.

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

©Angelo J. Sandoval
9.3.2014

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

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©Angelo J. Sandoval
    8.28.2014

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
mourns
mourns

Old man Cloud
Fades from Father Sky
broken
defeated
Old man Cloud
mourns

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Meet this month’s feature at the Española Poetry Explosion.
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Sheri Lopez is a little lady who was born in Albuquerque on August 22, 1985. That makes her 28 for those of you who hate math. She has a little man named Dominic who is pretty much the radest creature on the face of the earth, at least to her. He is almost two and this makes Sheri very nervouse because he can already run faster than her which is forcing her to get into shape to catch him. Mostly because she does not want to be one of those mother who has her child on a leash. But that is neither here, nor there, since this should be about her writing.

She has been writing her whole life, mainly short stories, but poetry is fun for her too. She does this in her free time or at 3 in the morning for some odd reason. Sheri really likes 3am. And in those tiny moments when the world inspires her she takes phrases and hordes them until they become a piece. This also happens to be the first time she has ever been a featured anything and it makes her nervous. But all in all she hopes you all like what she has to offer and she thanks you for coming.

(By the way, Sheri wrote this, but it is hard for her to talk about herself so she chose the third person format. Sheri hopes you do not mind and possibly think it is funny).
With love,
Sheri

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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.

Angelo J. Sandoval
(c) 1-20-2014

The drive home,
I witnessed God’s beauty
the sunset over the
Jemez Mountains
from the top of the world,
Las Truchas
pais de mi bis-abuelo
as I drove to the edge of the town
an ancient symbol
standing tall
the brightness of the last
bit of light over the horizon
the silhouette de la cruz
to my left peripheral view.

Recuerdos de tiempos pasados
run through my mind
me recuerdo de los dias
de mis antepasados
las voces de hombres de fe
oigo las tonadas de alabados
se oyen las oracienes cantadas
el llanto del pito
viene y va como el vientecito.

I look at the beauty
of an ancient symbol
on top of the mountain
its silhouette resonates
an ancient history full
of faith and devotion.

The last glimpse of the day’s light
fades behind the mountain
the cross steadfast
with its presence
of an ancient past
which lives strong today
as it did decades ago.

Los antepasados
nos dejaron un simbolo
De fe que traiyan en su corazon.

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Angelo J. Sandoval
(c) 12-24-2013

Glorioso San Francisco de Asis
gracias le doy
gracias por la imagen
de la Sagrada Familia
con el Niñito Jesus
en el pesebre.
Celebramos el nacimiento
del Niño Jesus
quien due anunciado por
el Ángel Gabriel.

Niñito Jesus
Salvador del los Pecadores.

Niñito Jesus
Gloria tenemos
En rata Nichols de su nacimento
Fuiste mandado al mundo
Pot ones de Nuestra Tata Dios.
Veniste al mundo
con enseñansa de amor

Niñito Jesus
sus bendiciones le pido
le pido que a mis hijas
las quides y guies
en este mundo engañoso.

Niñito Jesus
de rodillas vengo
Vengo a darle gracias
por todo lo que me has dado.
El regalo de ser padre,
una dicha mas grande que el mar.
Gracias le duo una vex mas.

Glorioso San Francisco
La Natividad de Jesus
que dejaste
para nosotros,
Los fieles del Niñito Jesus.
Gracias le damos
Oh, Santo humilde.

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Angelo J. Sandocal
(c) 12-9-2013

You appeared to me as we
drove
cruised
the streets of Burque
enjoying an evening of
musica
amistades
y celebracion.

I saw you peeking around
the door on the wall
on 2nd Street.
you appeared in all your beauty.
I only saw you for a split second,
la noche estaba oscura,
pero como siempre
you let your presence know.

I visited you
the next day
con el sol brillante
y como siempre
you gave me hope
la esperanza
que todo esta bien

In your presence
you vide una imagen de
tu hijo crucificado
la imagen de mis antepasados
los vide ofrecindo oracions
en los modos antigues.
Mi corazon se alegro
viendo su imagen
y la imagen de la procession
de mis antepasados al calvario.

From behind the door you appeared
made your presence known
sending your message of
esperanza,
como siempre.