Guess Who's Back! - BOOK GIVEAWAY!

 Helllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooooo! 

I have not posted on this blog since 2012. Last you heard from me I was twenty-three years old and identified as a lesbian. I published under my deadname and was heavily influenced by Christian undertones. Now it's 2020, and I'm finally out as a Genderqueer, Latinx, Queer, and Pagan author. I've gone through some shit since last you saw me, and my voice is still forming post coming out, but it's solid enough that I am putting myself out there again. 

At thirty, I am navigating chronic illness, starting to make a living as a ghostwriter, and putting my published works back into the world. The woman from Emeral Jewels and from the post before this one is no longer my wife, but my best friend. Dispelling the myth that you have to hate your ex. We were best friends since we were fourteen, and though our romantic relationship ended, we have a solid friendship that includes both our current spouses. I married my current partner in 2013, and I am incredibly lucky that she is in my life. Caitlin is my rock and supports me in everything I do. I'm not sure I'd be able to do this restriction without her. 

Speaking of, I am doing a book giveaway for my book of poems, A Rambling Wanderer's Tale, which is no available in Print and Kindle. Please help support me by downloading it and sharing it. Lending is turned on, so please feel free to share! Current reviews are positive, and I always welcome feedback!

So, in short, I'm out and back to writing! My website is KentWritesStuff.com, and if you are looking to for ghostwriting services, find me at Top Rated Ghost Writers.

e-Book $.99 | Paperback $5.99

Kindle Giveaway unit Wednesday, August 19, 2020

"Come Home" A Poem for My Wife

While I do not usually speak of this publicly, I felt truly inspired by one of my wife's emails and had to share my newest poem. My partner and I have been in love with each other since we were sixteen. Life and stupid choices (on both our parts) tore us from each other many years back; however, about 2 years ago, we managed to find each other again. We had grown and changed. Life tends to mold us with every breath we take, and for us, those changes finally brought us back to one another, and we have been partnered ever since.

But while we were brought back together in spirit, we were also torn apart by man. Currently, my wife is serving time in a state prison. The original court date handed out a completely irrational sentence of 15 years, serve seven and parole at three years. While the details of the case cannot be discussed, the frustration for such a harsh sentence can still be understood. My wife appealed her case in the summer of 2011, but the judge chose to wait on the verdict until the first of the year. The first of the year came and went, but still we have no word. The hope is parole or time already served. Honestly, whatever brings her home. 

These last two years have been very hard on both of us. Our faith in each other has been tested, and our faith in God similarly tested. Yet, we have managed to remain faithful to one another and to remain strong despite our vulnerabilities. This poem explains why I love my partner, and the frustration of not having any control over our situation. We must wait, live and pray that God will find a way to bring her home soon. We wait on a man we both have never met to decide her fate. Therefore, the title of the poem is: "Come Home." I hope you enjoy.

Come Home

by Cristina Marrero

I miss you;

and believe me, 

I want you to come home too. 

The countdown is over 

and the looming shade of uncertainty

just makes my aggravation grow daily. 

I want to know. 

I want to make our home presentable for your arrival. 

I want my wife back. 

I want to hold you in my arms and not have a time limit. 

I do not want to wait on a verdict

handed out by some judge I have never met,

and will most likely never meet. 

I want your anxiety from being stuck in hell to end.

I want you to be happy again. 

Criminal justice is not justice;

To them, 

Justice is just a fancy word for vengeance.

But “Vengeance is mine!” sayeth the Lord.

And last time I checked, 

the justice system had no Lords…

Only humans. 

I miss you, and I miss being able to simply call or text.

I miss the sound of your voice. 

The way you hold my hand.

The way you look at me with that piercing stare of yours. 

You get that look every time you listen. 

It takes my breath away every time, 

and that is why I can never manage to keep up an argument. 

I become lost in your love. 

That has only ever truly happened with you. 

In your presence I find peace. 

My mind slows down, and I am able to breath. 

To breathe a breath that has long since been repressed 

by societies deadlines and standards. 

The debt collectors, rude customers and the uncompassionate of this world cripple 

my once unguarded soul. 

But around you, my barricades fall, 

and for the first time in years, I begin to feel more.

More than anger or indignation,

More than rage.

You taught me how to love, 

And how to receive love without fearful pains. 

With you, 

I begin to feel unconditional love that will tolerate my stupidity, 

call me out when I am being harsh or rude, 

and that will help shape me into a more caring and self-aware individual. 

You make me a better woman by simply giving me your love with no condition.

You do not try to shape me into someone I am not, 

but rather bring out and intensify all the good I had forgot. 

I love you, and I miss you. 

Every day I wake up without you by my side 

makes me feel the void my heart cannot fill with anything other than the love of my wife.

My life has taken an upwards jettison,

but still, 

something remains missing.

I breathe, 

I sigh,

as I lift myself from my companionless bed. 

I turn to enter the bathroom and prepare for my day.

I gather my things, walk outside 

then lock the gate to my little corner of the world. 

I am lost...

but then I look at the picture wedged on my old school car radio's face.

The picture of you and I 

when we last shared a moment of joy 

in a not so happy place...

and believe me, 

no one can take that joy from you or I.

I look at my wife and know that our quality of life will soon skyrocket 

when we can both share the same sky. 

We will face many challenges, 

and I will do stupid things, 

but if we have each other....

Trust me Babe, 

we can face any damn thing. 

I love you. 

Come home soon.

I miss you.

Cristina & Lytisha
March 2008

The Small Minded People

Small-minded people with small-minded thought.
No consideration or concern for theories
that do not fit into their nice and neat White Anglo Saxon Protestant box.

When did thought become a crime?
When did hope become a fools endeavor?
Education,
a regurgitation.
Inspiration,
thought a degradation.
Misconception, misrepresentation…
These are the ways of the small-minded world.

Third rock from a sun
found in an ever-expanding universe.
We are but a speck
found in the grandeur of a milky way galaxy.

There is more to this world than simple black and white.
However, in your mind,
all that exists are racial barriers and foolish color lines.

These are the ways of the small-minded town.
Beware these tell tale signs…
Even the wise have lost their way,
Even the hopeful have been brought down.

Misery loves company,
So this holds true:
The small-minded people will not rest…
until they can control your every move.

The Gir Behind the Fabric Cape

She's alone, and she does not know where to go.
She's in pain, but she tries to make it so no one sees.
She's hurt, and she's slowly dying.
She takes care of everybody,
But who's left to take care of me?

I am the selfish part of this woman.
I want to be known for my good deeds.
I am the one who wants to be held at night.
The one who wants to go home with a woman.
The one who just wants to be her black knight.

I am the selfish part of this woman.
I am the one who wants a friend.
I am the one who needs a companion.
The one who is tired of baring a grin.

She runs to different places to hide the grief she bears.
She runs and hides, hoping no one will see.
It’s becoming harder to be the grief bearer.

Take me in your arms,
Just hold me close.
Don’t let go…
I don’t care if I can breathe.
She will never ask,
But I need to know,
Is there still a Superman left out there for me?

See, I am Clark Kent.
She is the one who flies through the streets…
Seemingly invincible,
But kryptonite will knock her right off her feet.

I know my weaknesses.
I know my flaws.
But I just want someone to love me
For just being me.

Everyone loves a Superman,
But no one really sees
The Clark Kent behind the desk…
The girl behind the woman,
Who is dying for a moment of peace.

She is slowly dying
Behind that fabric cape.
No Lois Lane to hold her close,
To let her cry
When everyone she's saved
Just says "Thank you,"
Then waves goodbye.
Leaving her alone,
With a thousand and one thoughts on which to think.

She spends all day saving others lives,
But no one ever sees,
The girl behind the fabric cape
Has needs like you and me.

The Opinionated Writer

Hello readers,
I created an additional blogspot for all of my articles. I want to keep The Artistic Poet for poetry and The Opinionated Writer for articles. Check it out, and let me know what you think.

Link to:

The Opinionated Writer

-Much Love
Cristina Marrero

Breath of Life

Feel that sensation of inspiration.
It runs through your veins,
Seeps from your soul,
Flows through you like a river.

Feel that surge of adrenaline.
Pumping through your heart,
Surging through your body,
Pushing you to new limits.

Feel the rush of freedom!
No one can constrain you;
Total freedom to explore,
Complete freedom to be.

Feel the rush of jubilation.
Step on stage,
Stand before the crowd,
It's your moment.
Control your emotion,
Breath in the life,
Then you speak.

Nothing like the stage.
Nothing like that momentary spot light.
For the first time in a long time,
I am alive.

Longing Epiphany

Wanting.
Wanting nothing.
Wanting Everything.
A world in chaos.
A world at peace.
Wanting something, anything, nothing.
Wanting life.
Wanting an Epiphany.

Flowers in Bloom

Flowers in bloom appear so beautiful.
Time and care has caused them to prosper.
Left alone, they will still grow.
There are seasons to roses.
First they are born,
soon they whither away,
but then they rise from the dead
more beautiful than remembered.

Flowers in bloom appear so beautiful.
But roses have thorns,
Roses can bleed.
Roses may prick, or be broken, or even tear.
Handle every beautiful rose with affection matched with caution.
Appreciate the beauty of the flower, never forgetting its fragility.

Flowers in bloom can whither away,
but like the Phoenix from the ashes,
they are reborn to a new life from a bright burning flame.