Friday, August 26, 2016


Quiero volver a nacer. Quiero ser niño otra vez. Quiero ser adolescente otra vez. Quiero ser ciudadano universal, sin color ni bandera. Quiero noches turbulentas y días acelerados. Quiero montar una motocicleta o un caballo. Quiero defender injusticias y ofender injustos. Quiero vivir sin morir. Quiero a Diego (sin derramar una lágrima) Quiero derramar muchas lágrimas sin sentirme triste. Quiero ahuyentar tristezas e invitar emociones, viajar en globo, nadar el Amazonas y el Nilo. Quiero nadar hasta la luna. Quiero más nicotina, más alcohol, poesía, libros y música. Quiero experimentar contigo y sin ti. Quiero alas y volar al centro de la tierra. Quiero conocer el cielo y el infierno, y luego decidir qué es lo que quiero. Quiero una eternidad efímera que dure un segundo y continuar viviendo un siglo más. Quiero el abrazo de un niño. Quiero necesitar amor. Quiero que me echen de menos, pero antes de morir, no después. Quiero conjugar todos los verbos, pero con acciones. Quiero que Dios exista y que la maldad desaparezca. Quiero que Dios sea mujer, y nos guie mejor. Quiero amor en todos los corazones. Quiero que el amor sea la moneda de cambio. Quiero lanzarme en paracaídas. Quiero descubrir héroes reales. Quiero correr un maratón alrededor del mundo. Quiero ser vampiro y morderte el cuello. Quiero cancelar el odio, la envidia y el rencor. Quiero escenas bonitas y noticias buenas. Quiero mil cosas para ti y nada para mi. Quiero que los niños sean inmunes al dolor y al sufrimiento. Quiero repartir mi amor y compartir tu dolor. Quiero donar mi corazón para que crezca. Quiero pedir perdón sin mencionar mis pecados. Quiero que el futuro esté presente cuando mi pasado sea juzgado. Y aunque parezca difícil yo quiero ser bueno. 

Si no eres egoísta tus deseos valen más. 

Edmundo Barraza
Lancaster, Ca. 8-25-2015

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Jealous of Me

The couple was lying in bed still and silent. Sadness invaded their faces. You could hardly find another adjective to describe the expression on their faces. 

While caressing her face with tender care, he began to talk.

“Honey, your face is so cold,” after kissing her cheek, he reached for her hands and began to rub them, he tried to warm them with his breath. She remained still, sunken deeply in her sleep. The night had been comfortingly cool. He loved the way her cold skin felt. Whenever they went to the movies, he urged her to wear a short skirt so he could slide his hand between her legs. He had always loved that feeling. Her skin was always a few degrees cooler than his. But this morning she was a bit colder than usual. 

“I had a nice dream,” he continued, “but it wasn’t completely nice. It was bordering between good and bad, between sad and happy, between suffering and joy. A little bit sadomasochistic, you know what I mean? Let me explain. I was flirting with you, but I wasn’t sure it was me. And when you responded to my flirtations I felt cheated, and got jealous . . .”

Her eyes had remained closed the entire time, but he knew she was listening to him. She was that way sometimes, pensive and profound; she had the quietness of a tender poem, yes, that’s the right description.

And he proceeded, “. . . and then I had a complete affair with you, we shared our love and had a glorious climax. But I wasn’t sure it was me, so I felt betrayed. And the happier I saw you, the more miserable I felt. You displayed enormous joy, yes, your enjoyment had been clearly immense, but the love you felt seemed illicit to me because I wasn’t sure it was I, who was giving it.”

She remained immobile as if concentrating and relishing the conversation.

"I know it sounds silly, but my dreams are so real, I woke up with tears in my eyes. I'm sure you know that before you I had loved no one. I belong only to you." 

He was tempted to lift the sheets and caress her legs, but he refrained and continued talking. 

“The last time I made love to you, a few hours ago, if I remember well, felt like the first time and the last time combined. Just like every time we make love. It seems that our love, instead of disappearing it accumulates. Honey, I love you so much I would bet all my love that you could not love me more than I love you. And if I lose my bet, I’d be happy too. I owe all the happiness of my life to you.”


He was profoundly asleep when she awoke. But she wouldn’t have dared to interrupt his dreams. He’d been working hard the day before. He seemed like a baby, sweet and innocent. And he truly was like that all the time, sweet and innocent. She loved him more than she loved her life, she wasn’t afraid to love him more that he loved her. She wasn’t selfish. She knew life would cease to exist for her too, the moment her husband would die.

One of her fears was that someday, the love for him would stop growing. It made her sad to see other couples fall out of love. She wished them all the happiness she was having. She wished she could interfere and send them back to the moment they first fell in love. 

She also wished to be inside his dreams, to participate in his dreams and desires. She wished she was the only object of his desires, even in his dreams. 

She knew that even a train passing nearby could not make enough noise to wake him up. Still, she began to talk to him gently, as if singing a lullaby to a baby.

“Honey, I want to tell you that my love for you had been increasing every day since the day I first met you. I love you more today than yesterday, and tomorrow I will love you more. I want to tell you that I need a bigger heart because my love for you is overflowing. And you're not helping because everything you do makes me love you more. Every morning when I open my eyes and see you next to me, I ask for nothing else. My happiness is complete.”

The strong desire she felt to touch him surpassed the risk to wake him up. Even so, she began to caress his face and kept talking.

"I know it sounds silly, but if all people could love the way I do, wars wouldn't exist. The word 'hate' would be erased from dictionaries. There would be floods of happiness all around the world. Wouldn't that be wonderful?" she softly kissed his eyelids and continued. "I don't know if I could love another man the way I love you, I mean, if I hadn't met you, would I have been able to love another man the same way? Do I love you so much, because it's you? I mean, you are generating the love I feel, you are the cause, you are the source, the origin. See how silly it is, I can't even explain myself."

Then, with her fingers, she began to comb his hair.

"I must tell you that the reason I enjoy going to the movies with you is because I love to feel your warm hands between my legs. You drive me crazy. I must also tell you that my life is a blessing, and I thank you for all the happiness you've given me. And one more thing, I beg you that when you die you'd take me with you. I know I couldn't resist living a moment without you. I love you, honey." 


She had been in a deep coma for the last three months. He had blamed himself for the accident. And rightly so, because there was no need to text her. She was right there in the car with him. A moment before he sent the message, he was caressing her legs. She was wearing her favorite skirt. When the police rescued them from the wreckage, they found the phone. The message said, "I love you, honey." It had been three months without her, three months without hope. He chose that day for a specific reason. It was her birthday. A moment before he disconnected the plug, he had taken an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

Edmundo Barraza
Lancaster, Ca. 08-18-2016

Sunday, May 15, 2016


Squeeze my lemons trickle down social insecurities third world project criminal justice injustice three strikes or a homerun prison system mutual terror bucket list priority destroy the world total absurdities my mother was a fish as I lay dying experiment stream of consciousness extreme mind fuck unrequired grammar uncensored thoughts under subconscious and comatose dreamlike visions dormant and inert subliminal messages from the dark side both dumb and smart need not apply a comma here a period there absent and dismissed obsolete comprehension send me to hell he’ll laugh from there while others remain in heaven bored to death pitiful pride useless words inhumane humans voting against earth republicans ignoring democracy conservative donkeys living in the past way in the past centuries behind implanting fear bible in hand frustrating progress preventing advance stampede of fools proclaiming preposterous promises while the opposition opposes most propositions cut to flashback to the future where non-existing scripts kept unedited in perfect literary freedom analyzed and approved with uneducated brilliance free flowing upstream rivers containing regrets that will get stuck by the stubbornness of indifference deviate back to my naked impure thoughts where people will always find meanness in the words offensive and crude the interior monologue never meant to be heard struggles to find the next line stolen by a ghost writer wrestling to avoid a block that impedes his own free flow a conflict of minds trying to invade and plagiarize universal letters and words without legal ownership voicing internal feelings senseless emotions unobtainable dreams reserved only for exceptional persons with genuine talent that cannot be bought or taught eternal envy of simple minds abundant in a world of mediocrity where billions of people swim unaware of misery or wealth but happier than the rest conformism attracts health and joy stream of consciousness think and write whatever comes to mind unfiltered and uninterrupted unafraid of failure absent of objectives aimless freedom oblivious of pleasing results and disregarding unpleasant goals arrive without traveling see all without looking do all without doing and never become a pirate no end in sight no subject is forbidden except inexistent exceptions majestic graffiti adorn the walls of a dark tunnel wasted space a desert on the ocean floor as might as well describe my organs too heart still palpitating reversal of misfortune tune for miss American imperialism capitalism colonialism domestic love universal hate continuous flow the stream found a dam unanswered dialogue voiceless speaker overheard thoughts one way conversation never boring and never clear I could go on forever until I die whichever comes first theories that violate logic a brilliant mind required with bizarre succession of ideas the hell with logical sequence I lost my virginity to a whore this is totally inconsequential and irrelevant but that’s the point if an acquaintance is reading I guarantee this is fiction the rest of you consider it true you lose your virginity once did I mention you’ll never find it back question marked with a perennial tattoo inserted in the interior walls of my eyelids one thing leads to another resume the obsolete task of  building a lifetime of useless resumes describe your failures instead it’ll be more accurate nothing makes sense when you write an autobiography that belongs to someone else young and daring freedom loving fearless punk addicted to excesses school he flunked found love early the free bird also found a cage never ending bliss decreased he then turned to rage lost is the name such accomplished ignorant no more crying I heard daughter downstairs indicating wise advice to kids

Edmundo Barraza
Lancaster, Ca. 05-13-2016

Tuesday, May 10, 2016


An FBI agent enters the room and grabs a chair in front of the suspect across the far end of the table, as he sits he removes his gun from the holster and puts it on the table. He begins the interrogation . . .

“Why did you kill him?”

“He was bad for America. You know how some psychos blame the devil for their crimes? Well, in this case God made me do it.” The suspect answers.

“Okay, but what was your motive?”

“He was trying to create another Holocaust. He wanted to deport tens of thousands of immigrants every month. He was a racist ignorant. Half America wanted to get rid of him. Let me tell you, America had always had its share of racist and hateful people, but they were hiding behind the shadows. We used to think they were the silent minority, but after this guy appeared, they proudly began to share their hatred. He divided America in the worst way. And they weren’t a little minority after all.”

“Did you have any accomplices?”

“No, I did it all by myself. But God was on my side, He was guiding me. I was never afraid of failing.”

“Are you a religious fanatic?”

“Not at all, believing in God doesn’t mean being a fanatic.”

“Have you killed anyone before?”

“No. He was the only person I hated in the world.”

“Did you enjoy killing him?”

“No. I enjoyed getting rid of him.”

“Do you consider yourself a hero?”

Absolutely not, but let people decide. In any case, I don’t care.”

“What punishment do you think you deserve?”

“Are you kidding me? Heaven will be my reward, God’s going to give me a break. And my victim will be fighting for supremacy in hell. Too bad hell doesn’t have beautiful walls.”

“You sound like a terrorist when you say, 'Heaven will be my reward'

“Oh yeah, you’re right! . . .  but I know I’m not.”

“Now that he’s gone, do you think you helped him prove his point, to say you are rapists and criminals?”

“You cannot blame ten million people for the actions of one person.”

“But, don’t you think he could have changed?”

“It’s impossible for an asshole not to smell like shit all the time." he says, as he stands up and looks defiantly at the camera.

“Well, I can’t say I approve of your actions, but I think you’ll get the death penalty. Or maybe, you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison . . .  Good luck.”  

Then, the agent stands up and exits the room, leaving his gun behind. We never know whether he forgot it, or left it there on purpose.

After a brief moment a shot is heard.

Then the camera shows a close-up of the (Mexican looking?) agent nodding in approval with a faint smile.

"The more you can increase fear of drugs and crime, welfare mothers, immigrants and aliens, the more you control all the people."
        -Noam Chomsky.


Edmundo Barraza
Lancaster, Ca. May-10-2016