rosalinda flores martinez

rosalinda flores martinez Poems

Shimmering white angel
dust and honey
flow on me

Darkness paints empty spaces

Tombs white as snow,

I must never rest,
I have to clean the house
Serve my masters
Feed the chickens

Station 1: Jesus is condemned to death

You were betrayed Jesus
Even by trusted friends

When would you seek my face

and drink my blood,

Miles of travel sweeping us
To a journey yonder the market.

Screams of whining people


She broke the glass,
She and her wicked teeth broke it,
Her gums did not bleed while
She swallowed the chips.

Tonight, I shall set myself free.
I want to see some spurts of blood
from my hands so what would come
is a fine sculpture of breathing veins.

All listen to the argument of

Adam in your sacred mouth


Let us be zealous and persevering in work,
Serve one another,

I am busy with everything and nothing

The spaces around me collide with each other

Life cannot be bought, and science have no permanence

Everything would stop if GOD wills it

Tonight I will hide from the world
And sleep with my sorrows

I will remember how in my delusion

For Vocations:

You have made me love you

Your grief has been too heavy

I don’t know how much grief buries you down

Lord, we could do nothing but wait at what would come to us
We are nothing but dust, yet you made us your children
Our hands could not reach out, but only measure from one arm
Our feet could not run, but only walk a few steps till the next turn.

When I was younger, I thought you would never die

I thought you were an immortal

Truly, birthdays happen and the earth is growing older
Sometimes, it is difficult to move far from whence everything started Some of us even grope in darkness
And lament the many questions of life.

Smile, hide aches
Smile, look kinder
Smile, be younger
Your face heaven yonder.

Dear God, dear God
I give you myself
Split from skull to toe
Hold me

rosalinda flores martinez Biography

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The Best Poem Of rosalinda flores martinez

Brave Knight

Shimmering white angel
dust and honey
flow on me

like a shower of lilac
in the fragrant dawn
and cool mist

while waiting for you.

The beauty is remembering
our existance. You have
come to me one by one

as brave knights,
gleaming swords of
clasping hands untainted.

Your habit defies
dirt and stinking corpses
and loathing days and

nights. It glories in the
pouring of rain and the blood
of a dutiful battlefield,

The brave knight is
Kneeling for peace.

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