from the oven

a translation of “desde el horno”

writings, translation by Gustavo Alvarado
writings registered to the u.s. copyright office
© Gustavo Alvarado 2009



When the old junk man Death
Comes to gather up our bodies
And toss them into the sack of oblivion,
I wonder if he will find
The corpse of a white multi-millionaire
Worth more pennies of eternity,
Than the black torso of
A Negro cotton-picker?

Langston Hughes    

the ashes mix

discarded collections
infertile lands
mental and spiritual
cruel for their abandonment
selected as preferred fruits
preferred for their potential
due to envy
the state of mind of not wanting
due to envy
for the color of the skin
for their natal race

we have to continue executing hatred’s
elimination towards humanity

have grown up and mollified ourselves?
like fecal earthworms among the most decayed reality?

guilty for not being able to erase
hatred towards our brother
bones and flesh of ashes

at the end
inside the oven
our ashes mix and will be confused
only then humanity will be united.



we are not who we want to be
we are who we are instilled to be
programmed to extinguish the human race

we are not who we want to be
we wanted to pause life in the moments of happiness
accelerate it in the moments of sadness and humiliation

desperate for not being able to understand oneself
for not caring for one another
separated among cultures
among colors and horizons like shit.


in the oven

in the oven are thrown all the corporal residues
all the spirits presence the union
one on top of another

in the holocaust earthly pit
like buried trash
not even worth a cent
not even fear wants to presence
for it is not guilty for what had happened.


was told

was told it was i the one who sent for their execution
they are the rules of weakness
incorporated in an idea
in a lie and deceitfulness
in a need
what would be of i if i were the one being discriminated?



slave from the far away
because you are the example of cruelty
because you are the lambs
the beginning of the fight
against arrogance among carnal colors

slaves from the far away asking among themselves why?

“give us freedom for i have done nothing…
only being born.”


waiting for the light

hidden criteria
chained creatures
waiting for hatred to
extinguish itself throughout time
for its smile to come out and glitter
expressed through the light of liberty

chained for being
for being raised in that manner
of multiple colors of dark skin

filled with dominating and silent hypocrisy
like the lioness approximating with living knives
to continue its existence
for its convenience.


during creation

“we paint different colors”

‘why father?’

“as an experiment only
how our carnal creation
destroys one another”

‘why father?’

“to teach them what is difficult to learn…”

‘what is difficult to learn father?’

“that we are all the same.”


the creation of the races

when the human races were assigned
buckets of colors rained from the sky
everyone looking upwards

“would not know what colors we are to be painted with
we would have to be content however we are created”

only through the progression of the years
we have forgotten
that we all created form the same clay base.


divined flower

divined flower
withered illusions
dispersing all your fragrance in the air
so everyone would color your perfume

divined flower
of red petals
yellows and blacks
whites and communal browns
capable courage to live

divined flower
your fallen petals
your propagated pollen
give rise to uncolored generations.


painted clay

was transcendent
fiery freedom
grinning waters
fiery of intense daily sweat
emerging welfares

happy native lands and mellow sufferings
among this slavery our convenience is named
through carpets of crunchy fingers
communal daytime
was transcendent
decadent mental freedom
racist communal spiritual
towards the color of clay
covered with different paint colors.



modern clay forever will be black
like the earth that gave us birth
diurnal corn
childish superiority
darken medallions giving freedom away
in this living and ordinary slavery
skinned and bloody flesh
blown by a stone of guiltiness
spitted black clay
rusted chains repainted with liberty
scars are still fiery.


blood of bile

unknown are the names of the ones who got lost
searching for the fruits to feed their lives

unknown are the names of the ones who got lost
searching for the trails to feed their cultures

sun emaciated faces
solitary depression
for tolerating the hatred knocked over in history
fading away like an aroma amongst generations

unknown the names and men who got lost in time
parting from the same origin
one day
to find themselves in time
forgetting they have sprouted from the same tree
fallen like fruits
rotten in their native lands
sweet mentalities
when only bile runs through their blood.



sharing under the fruitful tree
falling ripe fruits
we sit around learning circles
gathering life
nourishing us
fighting when we compete for the same fruit
launching with knives on our hands
disputing survival
hands willing to attack
malignant minds

under the tree we were born and will die
in its shadows we lodge
not searching no more
not asking no more

domesticated pigs
romantic creeds
scratching teeth
gaining weight
death between two
between all
fornicating peace
fornicating intelligence
inventing objects and formulas
to accelerate the unripe fruit.


right now

here is where i renounce
to existence
because of my color

renounce to my being
because of my color

spit my creator
for creating racial differences

the separation is not valid
nor the experiment is justified
there is enough suffering
caused by the value of the cocoa bean

laughter in the sky
guided minds
like cattle herd to the slaughterhouse production
annihilation of the human spirit
feeding minds with trash and consumption

are all learned and taught.


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all work shown done by gustavo adolfo alvarado peraza 19721210