Pilar (Pia) Mogollon
Biography of Pilar (Pia) Mogollon
I've had very little formal training, I just like to write what i know, what I see, and occasionally meander around trying to find new things to write about. One of my favorite writing teachers, Joy Oshun [Pima College, Tucson, AZ] made a great impact on me by encouraging me to explore outside of my own realm of knowledge and experience to find inspiration. As a writer, I aspire to an abandonment of my preconceived schools of thought; I strive to step outside of the boxes that through conditioning and defense mechanism we humans often enclose ourselves in.
See more of my writing at:
I am also a photographer and artist, so I am often inspired by imagery and conversely, my art is often inspired by the written word.
Walkin' this world, a single mother for the past eleven years has been an arduous effort for me as it is for many. My son currently lives with my very wonderful sister as I work toward some sense of stability.
My goal is to overcome the need for the 40-hour work week; reunite and live happily and peacefully with my son, as we make our way in this society and better our lives through creative endeavors.
Through all of my experiences in life I have come to believe in the village mentality and strive to build community and share and receive info and resources wherever I go.
Pilar (Pia) Mogollon Poems
A Hole In The Tree
There's a hole in the tree outside cross the street from my sister's house
de vie truly thou art a visionary for this age,
A Mother's Lament
my child, my child, i am so afraid my child, my child, please forgive me
Because I think food should be free.
I've felt the cold ground beneath me slept under the stars in unfamiliar places -slept in places where for some reason the law says we are not allowed sleep
doesn't anybody realize
doesn't anybody realize i just want them to come back for me
a new years resolution
my new years goal is to always smile at children
red felt hat
a red felt hat and dark eyes that peer suggestively beneath its brim she steals the breath and blows a kiss with a glance
little bird haiku
little bird upon the sill sing to me of the open air
the first boy has changed now
sunshine and flowers white puffy clouds and the silver gray ones too
suddenly Sapo was lying beside me suckling at my hearth
flash flood nostalgia
flood o memories flood o memories comin quick
perhaps i am but a weed...
perhaps I am but a weed sprouting thru the cracks of this asphalt,
Inspired by bus poems
Today I sat on the bus uncertain