Eccles Presents Salt Lake Speaks: Heart & Sol Event Program

With over 20 years of diverse experience, Nikki Walker has excelled in roles from Vice President in PR on the east coast to Director of Global Brand Awareness for a multibillion-dollar wellness brand in Utah. Transitioning into tech, she served as the Director of Community Engagement and DEI at a large tech company emphasizing inclusivity and community connections. Today she proudly serves as the founder of NWPR & Consulting, an agency rooted in foundational public relations and culturally competent communication strategies representing brands across industries.

Beyond her career, Nikki actively contributes to her community by serving on multiple nonprofit boards in Utah and has been recognized for her achievements in Utah and beyond with awards including The Women Tech Council Change Catalyst award, Utah Business Magazine’s 30 Women to Watch, the W Collective’s 40 over 40 and a bronze Stevie in the category of Female Employee of the Year.

Instagram.com/nikkiwalkerpr
LinkedIn.com/nwpublicrelations

I have played the guitar pretty much every day since I was 15-years-old. My experience includes playing in pop and folk music bands in Chile (1970-1973). In 1974, I won the La Serena Musical Festival representing the University of Chile and had a presentation on TV UC-13. I performed with the Jordan High School band and with the BYU Hispanic Chamber. In 2022, I provided musical background for a poetry presentation.

I was born in 1955 in the USSR and served in the military from 1978-1980. I immigrated to the US in 1991 and settled in Utah. I have a teaching degree in history and sociology, and a Masters in art history. I wrote my first poem at the age of 13, published two poetry books in the 1990’s, and I am the author more than 100 songs (all in Russian). I am an artist, wood carver, and sculptor, and worked as a wood carver for F. Wexler Co. I am now retired, but I work at home in my workshop and participate in solo and group art shows.

Poem #1

It’s easy for me to live in creativity
And whatever I do there
Someone’s feelings will respond
Fantasy is not bold.
I want to create picturesquely
I want both in song and in verse
I want it always and now, forever
And so that everything will remain in the centuries.
Creativity is easy for me,
Yes, because from the heart
He laughs humorously from his heart,
He creates quietly in silence.
It’s like a revelation to me,
Not for yourself, but for others
And all the happy moments
I’m like a figure, a song, a poem.
I have to communicate through creativity
Much easier than online,
And it’s easier than to get rich,
It’s not fair there – I don’t care.
Everything can be an inspiration for me
Luck, joy and sadness.
And maybe that’s a comparison
I’ll explain that it’s not a pity to live.

Return to Childhood

Can’t I take it down?
Never sad for the past?
And how long to grieve
Do I have a nice family home?
The heaviness of the years does not prevent me from living,
The weight of memory on the heart presses,
And you can’t cut it or shave it off
And it won’t melt in the sun.
And in childhood, she will lead
And he’ll make you stand in the alleys.
And he’ll wander with me in the yards,
Attics and cellars on the booms.
And it will touch my hand
Rusty stairs of fire steps
According to which I sometimes used when I was a child,
Lez upstairs, riping his knees.
And she will return to the branches
Those mulberry trees in the spring.
Delicious berries will return the appetite
And he’ll try with me.
And he’ll sing with me in unison
The songs I throated when I was a kid
And that girl will find a photo
What I once left for memory.
What are you doing, memory with me –
You make me go back.
To school, to childhood and youth, and to that,
Whose eyes will never be forgotten.
You wrinkle your face
And you add gray hair in the temples.
Memory, you’re like a ring on your finger,
You don’t let yourself go anywhere.

Subject: Poem #3

You need more about yourself here
A little less about fate.
I’ll try now, not later
But about both.
I don’t pretend to be great,
Although they say talent is available
But I want to be popular
I honestly don’t say that.
Fame won’t hurt me
She only takes care of peace.
Well, “we only dream of peace” –
The famous phrase says.
I like to be active everywhere,
Where you like and where you need.
And try one thing, another
And I love creativity.
I want to create always, in everything,
I want to go my own way
And to be different from others
But I wouldn’t forget the experience either.
Well, in general, that’s all
And what else can I say,
So that’s what I do,
But only what I love.
I hope you like it too…
Then I’ll give more,
And I’ll leave more of myself,
Or maybe that’s what I’ll glorify.

I am  a teaching and performing artist who graduated at The Bagamoyo College Of Performing Arts, located in Bagamoyo, Pwani Tanzania East Africa, a while ago. I have been teaching and performing ever since.

Swahili Language

The language I’ll be using today is called Swahili, which is the national language of Tanzania, and its root is Tanzanian. The Swahili language has been influenced by the languages of colonists from far parts of the world who came to Africa with the intent of exploiting African countries including Tanzania. That’s why you will hear Swahili words that sound like Portuguese, English, Arabic, Latin, and so on, in the Swahili language. Although it is still a young language, it is the fastest growing language in the world.

Until the 1960’s, it was still a language spoken by only one tribe. Tanzania has about 150 tribes or more and each tribe spoke its own language. Now the whole Tanzanian country – with about 150 languages and a little over 60 million people – speak Swahili fluently.  After getting independence in 1961, the first president of Tanzania who fought for our freedom, Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere, with wisdom, advised the entire country that to be independent and live in cooperation, peace, and unity, after being under control of colonialism. If we have one national language that will unite us in our daily livelihood, commercially, and even in Bamia agriculture.

Mwalimu Nyerere, as the first president of the country, could have chosen his tribe’s language to be the national language using his presidential powers, but he didn’t. He was never a selfish man. He didn’t choose his language because he was never a selfish man. A census had to be done, and the number of members of each tribe was collected and it was discovered that the Swahili tribe had more people than any tribe in Tanzania. For that reason, he said it was wise for the language of the Swahili tribe to be the national language, and it would be taught in the entire country using people of the Swahili tribe with the ability to teach.

The nation invested funds to cover the costs of transporting people of the Swahili tribe with the ability to teach and distribute them throughout the country. The goal was within five years that at least half of Tanzanians be able to speak Swahili. He believed that where there is an intent there is a way, and the way does not come without a will.

Many people hated him because learning a new language for an adult was like a burning fire that could not be extinguished. There was no acceptable reason as an excuse not to learn Swahili as a tool.

Whether you liked it or not you had to learn Swahili, whether you are a five-year-old child or a 75-year-old man, you had to have the intent to learn Swahili even with perseverance.

34 years later, the benefits of learning Swahili started to be seen, when people from different tribes started to understand each other through the Swahili language.

The fruits of dedication and patience began to appear. It felt so good that even those who were crying and insulting the first president by giving him hateful names changed their thoughts when life began to be simple, and when people of different tribes communicated with each other and united villages and cities by reducing differences and increasing love and peace which flourished without force.

Poems and songs began to be written by Tanzanian people as thanks for forcing them to learn this language. Life has grown easier. Trade between tribes, villages, districts, and even regions was simplified by the Swahili language. Mwalimu Nyerere was happy to see his goal had been achieved.

After five years, the wonder that happened through the Swahili language started spreading to the neighboring countries. Tanzania has succeeded in implementing their national language – the languages of the colonists have been left behind and the people of different tribes started to live together without wealth or land conflicts.

That was the beginning of Swahili language starting to spread to nearby countries such as Kenya, Uganda, and Congo (at that time called Zaire). Now, Swahili is spoken in more than 10 countries in Africa, including Burundi, Somalia, Malawi, Mozambique, Rwanda, Comoros, and South Africa.

It is said from historical library language records that the Swahili language is the youngest, fastest spreading language in the world. It is taught in universities around the world with more than 100 courses.

Recently, the Union of African Countries said that Swahili is spoken by more African countries than any language, other than colonial language which were used in almost all colonized African countries. Swahili connects Africans, even tourists use it when visiting Tanzania.

In a meeting of the Communities of African Countries, it was said that Africa will be able to set common goals, starting by learning and spreading Swahili language education throughout Africa. That is a difficult stage but, it can be simplified with intent and late be proud of the fruits like Tanzania.

It’s true I tell you, that the Swahili language is the language of unity, peace, and love. There are minor conflicts now and then within the country, although it’s not the sense of crossing borders and causing war between one tribe and another, with people of the same color and another, like the western countries.

We live without hate with the remains of the colonists who chose to stay after colonialism as they didn’t know where to get back to. It has been generations since their grandfather’s took over Africa, we live with them without hate, although in the heart, we know what they did to us – they destroyed our traditional lifestyle as they exploited African economies and manpower for their own benefits.

So far, people from colonial generations have a better life than native people of Tanzania, but Tanzanians still want to have peace first before thinking of wealth. It is so easy to meet a poor Tanzanian who is really happy compared to most wealthy people.

When you meet a Tanzanian, believe it or not, a huge percentage of them are trustworthy. All that is because of one person who gave us the gift of freedom and wisdom, Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere. Although he was taken in the beginning, four years later they composed songs for him, we sang for him, we remained with our clear honor to preach his name. When he died, the entire country, we cried for him. You cannot talk about the peace and harmony of Tanzanians without talking about Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere.

The Five Foot Tall Man

I am going to set the atmosphere straight like its never been set before.

I never felt so responsible like bringing the  heat on this floor.

I know its gonna get warm and fuzzy in the atmosphere, as I bring the hard truth to y’all

I will take your mind to the stratosphere, cause this has to be spoken for sure.

In this internet era we can see morals disappear right in front of our eyes.

Bulling appears through eyes and ears, causing tears and fears in the hearts of some of internet by standers .

Now social media is a life style standard setter.
It can make you bitter or better.
Whether its IG,  Facebook Meta or  X Twitter. Things are getting  weirder out there.

The most weirder-nes is in the dating scene than any other scenario.

Standards are being set, now community decide who you should date based on specifics like looks, How he …..  ? Can he … , does he …?  and oh, if he is not an American, does he speak English?
What does English has to do with it?

Don’t cut communication short like that.
The most communications we do in life is non verbal, did you know that?
Trust me.
Vees and the Pees are my witness. When Vees and the Pees meet after our flirting struggles concludes with the agreement,

they don’t speak at all, all they need is 5 getures to get their happy moment going. These simple 5 gestures needed for them is One two three four, five.
1 is Scrub,  number 2 is accelerate, Number 3 is Get a seizure, Number 4  Release, and # 5 is collapse.

Now, tell me, what does English has to do with it? Couldn’t that happen with just sign language? It happens a lot of time. Just take away the English speaking barriers and you will find yourself with a whole lot more options.

Well now back to the point,

After all blanks are filled, there comes the actual punchline motivated me to come up here…… How tall is he. …

As I said,
I am going to set the atmosphere like its never been set before.

I never felt so responsible like bringing the heat on this floor.

I know its gonna get warm and fuzzy in the atmosphere, as I bring the hard truth to y’all

I will take your mind to the stratosphere, cause this has to be spoken for sure.

Dating height standards are set, and the favorite is six foot four.

If you are under six you lose the bet, cause no under six through the door.

Hey Janet, Shanikwa or Juliet, whats wrong for Maria dating a man five foot four?

Maria and the five foot four man just met, but his height is not something her friends adore.

When Maria was seen with the five foot four man, the Internet gossips got on fire, you could feel the keyboard gangstas minds set floating on sweat. Busy putting every body to the test , with “Did  you hear? Maria is dating a five foot four dude”. Oh Em Gee. The tweet, retweeted, thread threaded, the post reposed, texts received and re shared, etc.

Maria’s life went on American roulette, not knowing what to do, her heart sank to the bottom. .

She liked the guy but her friends were the judges and executors on her love life accord.

Something she will never forget was that the five foot four man was a good man she swore.

The streets did not give her a break, they  tormented her to the core.

It was not worth the fight, she regretted giving up on the five foot four man saying, “oh man, now my whole life is a bore.”

It is so complicated out there for 88% of women sharing the 12% of six  footers men.
It became an impossible mission for Maria to get one six foot four of her own. Out of shame, she disappeared from the internet.

2 years of hiding from the internet and negative groups, she found peace, she found herself another five foot man to replace the previous one as the previous five foot four was nowhere to be found. Maybe he gave up on love life as well because of the new height standard in the dating scene.

As a five foot three man myself, that is five foot even when you round it up.  So, you can call me a five footer man any day. I’ll be aight.  I accepted it a long time ago. I wouldn’t care if you turn me down for my height cause I can’t change that. There is no MLS for me. I know you don’t what MLS means. I just made it up. I thought if women get BBL, which is Brazilian Butt Lift to change their looks like real men really care,  then the five foot men need to get an MLS. Masai Leg Stretch. Unfortunately, the MLS procedure is not in the market yet. Even if there was, the woman who would rather have me after going through the Masai Leg Stretch, she is not for me. I will do her a favor and take her to the Masai men themselves. Like if it was true really men love Brazilian but so much, how come we don’t see them moving to Brazil?
With that truth BBL tends to attract one nighters.
Its because in reality men don’t care much about anything but your blessed Vees to meet their Pees plus the side of feminine care…  Period.

After all that been said,
Things can change, ladies you are blessed with powers to change things, like wonders of changing sperms to babies. You have positively changed so many aspects of life like changing laws, healing people through your feminine wisdom, your powers have given safety to many vulnerable communities without mentioning names.

Let’s help one another to reshape the internet and make it the best love scene to all. Each with their own individual choices instead of one’s specific preferences to be for all.
Let’s break the height mind barrier and free those for those who can’t accept their heights no more due to internet verbal bulling.

It is not for me even though I am one of those 5 foot tall men, because I don’t let it get to me. I have accepted it 100%. My job is to make the five foot tall be interesting. And the progress is fun. I will not give up to any of that.

That’s why I got the courage to stand here and spill it out to y’all amazing people.
I am here to tell you ladies of all races, heights, weight, nationalities background,  that I love you all, you all have what a man want and need, you all are beautiful cause you got what I want and need. But deep inside I do have my preferences, just like you all have yours. We need to end this by not forcing our preferences to others.  Support their choices. If you can’t please shut up.

To conclude I bring love to you all beautiful, amazing ladies by saying.

Can we chill, relax and I will pay the bill.
Providly, you eye, denyingly,
but I can see right your see through,
and I wanna meet, return greet you, reach you
then leash you.
Leash you some of my love, you like a dove,
so spread your wings and fly above.
The rest is nonsense, no but no if.
You know I wish I could kiss you.
And leave you with the mark on the chick,
and then bliss occurs.
You are not in the mood?
Well baby let me take you there.
Your lips, your eyes, your hair,
are lovely I swear.
They are hot as a flame of the fire,
So hot I hardly compare.
Desire and passion we share.
In the midst of the air, by the ocean floating,
and coasting, and the motion in pair.
But friction and addiction to your body
and soul, you let go just enough so we can straw.
On the beach on the park I’m trying to reach your heart, touch your heart, make sparks lightning the dark.
Like a Fourth of July, I see you independent girl.
But this is the fifth of January and it’s my
birth day…….. can you be birthday cake?
I mean, …. I could eat..

Amazingly

Gather ’round, folks, and listen up tight I’m counting down the top 10, most amazing in sight From humans to critters, to leaders and more Get ready to be wowed, like never before

Chorus: Amazing tales, that’ll leave you in awe Top 10 countdown, you won’t want to pause From wildlife to humans, leaders and events too O’Nkosi’s Amazing 10, the best things to do

Verse 2: From the most amazing animals, to people who inspire To incidents that’ll leave you feelin’ like a campfire We’ll explore the world, and uncover the best In leaders, women, and critters, puttin’ the rest to the test

Chorus: Amazing tales, that’ll leave you in awe Top 10 countdown, you won’t want to pause From wildlife to women, leaders and events too O’Nkosi’s Amazing 10, the best things to do

Bridge: So saddle up, and ride with me On O’Nkosi’s Amazing 10, the most amazing spree Country music style, we’ll bring to you The most amazing top 10, that the world can do! Yeehaw! Yeah, yeah, it’s the “Mad Love Happy Life” Riddim We celebrating love, happiness, and vibes Get ready to feel the rhythm, let’s dive Hook: Mad love, happy life, feeling so right In the dance hall, we ignite Grooving to the beat, under the moonlight Mad love, happy life, taking flight

Chorus: Oh, the way you look at me Mad love, my heart’s set free In your arms, where I wanna be Happy life, just you and me

Verse 1: Your eyes, like stars, shining bright Mad love, every day and night In your gaze, I find my delight Happy life, in your love, I take flight Your touch, a gentle breeze Mad love, brings me to my knees In your embrace, all worries cease Happy life, a sweet release

Verse 2: Words you speak, like a love song Mad love, where I belong In your melody, I’m strong Happy life, together we’re drawn Your laughter, a joyful symphony Mad love, the sweetest harmony In your joy, my heart’s decree Happy life, a dance, wild and free Actions speak louder than words Mad love, like singing birds In your gestures, love concurs Happy life, where passion occurs Surprises that make my heart race Mad love, a smile on my face In your love, I find my space Happy life, in this warm embrace Transition: Transitioning into a love-soaked groove The dance floor, where emotions move Mad love, in every step we prove Happy life, let the rhythm improve

Outro: As the music winds down, we hold tight Mad love, happy life, in the moonlight In each other’s arms, everything’s so right Dancehall love, the perfect delight

Laura Ruiz Ortega is a multilingual slam poet, her poetry highlights the language of her ancestors and her journey as an immigrant woman of color living in a land whose borders crossed her. She has been featured in various Literary festivals in Utah, Reno, and Mexico City. She is the winner of the 2022 Sor Juana Prize for Spanish Poetry, one of the winners of Button Poetry’s short form poem of 2024 among other awards. She dedicates her free time to her children, her partner, and to ultra running on various trails in Utah. She considers Nature and the mountains a source of healing and inspiration for her poetry.

Ni una frontera, un papel verde ni los peces gordos les pueden apagar el fuego que existe dentro de sus almas

el fuego de sus ancestros ardiendo dentro de ustedes.

Walking on the road of my soul I found a void, cold wind blew through that crack and she and I went to look for the lost piece I took her good hands and told her “Cihuatlatoani, cuix Tiyollohtlapatox?” Did you forget the legacy of your grandmothers? you are their brave “chilpayate” as they called you Don’t hide those beautiful crow-cracked hands Remember the beautiful flight of the hummingbird in your heart cihuatlatoani We asked  for the blessing of Xochiquetzal and she sealed the cracks in her hands with beautiful gold and silver kisses She closed every crack singing

Xiqui yehua in xochitl save this flower Xiqui yehua ipan noyolotl Keep it in your heart Pampa ni mitz tlazotla Because I love you Pampa ni mitz tlazotla ica nuchi noyolotl Because I love you with all my heart

my inner child and me We walked in the uncertainty of our fears, we left our skin dry lifeless,  colorless

The ones that society forced us to wear

we kissed our cinnamon skin and we swallowed the fire that would destroy us

free yourselves and sing to your inner  children every night

Xiqui yehua in xochitl save this flower Xiqui yehua ipan noyolotl Keep it in your heart Pampa ni mitz tlazotla Because I love you Pampa ni mitz tlazotla ica nuchi noyolotl Because I love you with all my heart

Neither a border, a green piece of paper nor powerful corrupt politicians can put out the fire that exists within their souls. the fire of your ancestors burning within you.

Born and raised with a profound love for art, I embarked on a journey where creativity became my sanctuary and crucible. Challenges became my tutors, teaching me patience in the face of imperfection and perseverance amidst doubt.  Reflecting both the battles fought within and the triumphs celebrated silently, my art became a mirror of my growth—a testament to the transformative power of passion and persistence of my evolution.

Sel de l’âme
Salt of the soul

I look and look
only to  see what I cannot find
They say it is out there
But what does that even mean?
What does it look like
How does it feel, How does it taste
Where is it? Who is it? What is it?
I close my eyes
only to see what is not there
What am I looking for?
Who am I looking for?
Does it have a name? Does it have a smell?
Does it have a taste?
Is it a place?
Is it a person?
Is it a thing?
Question after question
My mind wanders like a pirate at sea
Watching the horizon where the sun rises and sets
Over thoughts, I can only describe as
Doubt
Fear
Confusion
Embarrassment
Disappointment
Anger
Dislike
Doubt of who I am
Fear of what I could be
Confused about where I should go
Embarrassed of being a letdown
Disappointed with what I cannot do
Angry at myself
Disliking the obvious
An obvious obsession caused by voices of opinion
To belong or fit in places without a solid foundation of truth
Remember
Remember
Remember
A voice so loud and sweet
Fills my soul with comfort and peace
I look up to the sky
To only see what I don’t understand
A reflection so divine
I can only describe as my own
The real me, My identity
My truth
My love
My respect
I am the treasure long forgotten
I am sweet
I am sour
I am a fighter
I am a sister
I am friends
I am a daughter of a king
Undefined by opinions
I am who I am

Abi holds a BS and an MS in Petroleum Engineering from the New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology. He has worked as a field engineer in the oil industry. Abi has been tutoring for 17 years now and his forte includes but is not limited to, high school and college physics, chemistry, biology and math. Abi also prepares students for standardized tests such as the SAT, ACT, GMAT, LSAT, and GRE. He moved to Utah initially to bag a PhD in Chemical Engineering but switched to Literature and Creative Writing. Abi runs 365 Poetry, and every other month, he facilitates an event that provides a platform for budding artists as well as anyone who might feel inspired to read a poem, recite it, or perform it. At 365, there is no form of critique; anyone may perform whatever stirs them in a short story, poem, exhortation, or even dance. Beyond curating performance art, Abi enjoys dancing, soccer, fitness, and martial arts.

Ni Iwaju Igba
Before the Calabash

Before our deities there is no difference!

Ifa makes no gripe about shape or size!

If at all one must approach to do the god’s bidding, it is she who is full and luscious so.

Thus, they who stride the forest of demons, to bring back what may stem the pestilence in the village, never deigned to consider themselves worthy, from weight or size nor the shame of thin.

They danced about the fire, all of them, bosoms trouncing upon their chests, slender women and bigger too, happy maidens of the Ifa village.

Shay works as a senior technical consultant. She is a private poet who writes for the personal pressure that comes from creating. She is  fascinated with unique forms of poetry.

Poems:

• Kintsugi
• Love Yourself
• Summer Love

Fine artist and multidisciplinary designer, born in beautiful Mexico City. His natural love for drawing and art was noticed from an early age. His interest was cultivated by his older brother during adolescence, which encouraged him to finish his degree in industrial design. For that reason, it is not surprising that some of his pieces are related to interior design, practices that the artist has professionally developed.

Another great influence is that of Mexican icon, Ramon Valdiosera Berman creator of the “Mexican pink” with whom he worked for more than ten years in mural painting. Vicente studied for a master’s degree in Digital Creative Design, which allowed him to teach at various Universities in Mexico City since 2006. His discipline has allowed him to promote and spread his passion for art and design to new generations.

A true admirer of architecture and Renaissance painting, fascinated by nature, how he represents himself to the world through his gaze and how it has been observed; this is how his attraction of human anatomy came about. The images that Vicente captures within his work are only a small part of a great intrinsic story that opens a window for a broad dialogue with the viewer allowing for a connection to exist. He feels that the artistic exchange between the story that narrates through the image generates a direct connection, which makes them equal and at the same time, different.

www.artistvjc.com

https://instagram.com/artistvjc?utm_medium=copy_link

https://www.facebook.com/artvjc/

INHABITED

I walk step by step through every corner of this desolate house.
My gaze does not adapt to the lack of light or the smell of dampness.
Ephemeral humanity that passed through here, indicates to me that one day it was inhabited.

The stale atmosphere like a mist from the past.
White sheets cover every object of memory.
Broken mirrors still reflect my gaze on you.
The ghosts dance. They dance in the darkness of memory…
They laugh, they run, they sing.

They murmur words of love that still echo as I step on the steps.
The piano keys still whisper her smile.
I discover their room.
Your love bed with walls dotted with the white of desire….
Of your memories.

The moonlight filtered through the slits of the blinds,
show me the studio where he undressed you, where he painted you,
fed, recreated… Where you were created together.
Where he used your skin as a canvas and his fingers as a brush.
The oils of the fingers are already dry.
Each finger of his hand with strong, soft or subtle stroke,
that many times caressed your silky skin,
that made you scream or moan, feel, live…
That painted you inside and out.

There is not a single blank page, he used them all, he left nothing… Nothing for me.
Nothing for me, he left with you.
Nothing to draw even a sketch of yesterday.
On the floor only studies of every corporeal part of her.
On the table is still the cup that one day kissed their mouths;
the trace of the color that one day was carmine, pink or coral of her lipstick is impregnated.

My mind is troubled on nights like today.
My past, reminds me that he left with you.
My memories, mock me leaving you with me.
The days left us alone.

Time screams at me that I’ve been left alone.
I don’t know what I say, I don’t know what I write.
The soft scent of your skin lingers in my memory,
that makes my presence in this place bearable.

Through the window something distracts me again,
I only hear drops of cold tears on the glass,
on the powdered glass of my window that remind me that I am alive,
that I still exist, but I don’t know it, because I stopped feeling.
I go on, I remain where many times I don’t want to be and other times I do?
Trapped, uninhabited

PRISONER

The cage is small, to enter is to leave.
It has an earthly shape.
It resembles the downed animal,
I fly from north to south.

I walk from one end to the other,
stepping on images, thoughts, dreams, desires…
Unloosening presences of a perpetual autumn,
like the twisted branch of the tree of silence.

The words stick out their arms,
hands, through the crevices of metal,
Words write, to write is to escape
for a fleeting moment.

Prisoner
He comes to visit me, while I sleep.
He chats with my dreams,
I narrate to him the crime of stealing his kisses,
of kissing the air to send my kisses,
to perch and feed on his warm lips…

He, draws a window in my hand,
I, I draw his face in the window;
I lean out my hand to see him,
in the opaque glass of the caress I look at him,
leaning out, watching me see him.

In the storm of writing,
between being imprisoned and being free,
all the escapes happen:

Me, I escape from him, with him.
He escapes from me, with me.

I escape from my thoughts,
thoughts to think of him,
Thinking of him, with me.
The world escapes from the world, with me.
The caress escapes through the window of my hand,
Just to touch his face.
The writing escapes through the window of my hand,
just to whisper my desires and feelings in her ear.

And so, while the world sleeps,
the stars dance in the depth of the night.
They dance in the window of my hand,
illuminating the face of my loved one.

TRANSIT BETWEEN SHADOWS

The night, it goes into the night;
with it, through it…
My earthly form in this world has expired.

What I write clouds me,
clouds what I am;
Disappearing appearing,
traced by my pencil
of my trembling hand,
I smoke every day a cigarette,
a life of mist
I walk to the other side.

I will always maintain this posture,
no matter the punishment,
torture or perhaps, madness.
I will open the window of words.

I will look at the world from here,
waiting to look at you, without looking at me from a distance.
I will look at you looking at them. I will look at you with them.
We will look at each other inside this world.
We will lose ourselves in the very writing of our destiny.

I will stop with me without you
Beside what I suppose is my path
Beside what I suppose I am, was, will be….
I do not know.

It will dawn without “a we”
without the futile trace of yesterday.
Without the rest of our memories.
The empty palette of colors
The empty wine bottle,
nothing to drink or remember,
Nothing for nothing at all.

The concrete of the rainbow,
The falsity of what we thought the kiss between sun and moon,
colorless in the gray horizon of the sky…
The disappointment of being and not being.
The computer on,
a music, cold and empty melody.
The thunder of the clouds,
particles of sun filtering through sheets;
complaints of a life that could not be born,
cannot be said by your side.
Painted, written, loved.

Madelaine Lamah is an actor, dancer, and model based in Salt Lake City, UT. Madelaine has been in the performance industry for about 5 years now, starring in her first role in Eclipsed, at the University of Utah. Since then, she has starred in multiple plays, commercials, short films, fashion shows, and dance performances. When she’s not performing, she can be found serving her community, at church, working at the Salt Lake County office, or spending time with her family.

Dr. Cory Russo acquired her stage name, Artikulate, after building her foundation in Las Vegas where she started reading her poetry off of crumpled napkins in coffee shops between classes. As a spoken word artist, she is known for revealing herself through her words on stages at the Human Rights Campaign, Long Beach Pride as one of the opening performers for Queen Latifah, and sharing the stage with many Def Poets she admires over the past 15+ years. She has four spoken word albums and a published children’s book. She is passionate about public health and loves her career in forensic medicine as the Chief Medical Examiner Investigator.

Poems

• Self-love
• Should
• Body Art
  

Mónica Rodríguez es Mexicana, incursionó en los medios de comunicación desde los diecisiete años, tiene un diplomado en criminología y egreso de liderazgo en la Universidad de Utah. Escribe artículos inspiracionales y se ha especializado en desarrollo del potencial humano, dando talleres y conferencias en español. a hecho la reseña de libros de algunos autores. En 1995 ganó el premio de poesía en el Estado de México. En el 2017 le fue otorgado el Premio Sor Juana por artes de México en Utah y el Consulado de México.

Mónica Rodríguez is Mexican, she ventured into the media when she was seventeen years old, she has a diploma in criminology and a leadership degree from the University of Utah. She writes inspirational articles and has specialized in the development of human potential, giving workshops and lectures in Spanish. has reviewed books by some authors. In 1995 she won the poetry prize in the State of Mexico. In 2017 she was awarded the Sor Juana Award for the arts of Mexico in Utah and the Consulate of Mexico.

Los poemas

• El color del cristal con que se mira. (The Color of the glass with which you look.)
• Porque no he de quererte cuerpo mío (Because I don’t have to love you my body)
• Estás lista! (Are you ready!)

El Color del cristal con que se mira
The Color of the glass with which you look

From a distance I secretly observed,
A seductive and captivating scene,
Because of the essence that we humans have,
To see more than with the eyes with the soul.

Two men near a lady,
While one sighed for her,
The other showed indifference.
She suddenly feels the stares,
She walks away quickly embarrassed,
The complex she feels about her body,
She is only in her mind imprisoned by her.

She walks and the inevitable reflection of her,
She appears in the windows where she passes,
She doesn’t know that beauty is different,
According to the color of the glass with which she looks at herself.
Well, for some of the soul it is a sigh,
For others it is a compassionate gesture.

Next to her another lady accompanies her
She is tall, slender and white-skinned,
Inevitable with it is compared,
She feels ashamed of her body,
The color of her skin and her face.
It’s sad to see yourself in a mirror,
Without finding the ideal that she imagined.

More manly eyes in her wake,
They don’t stop even for a moment admiring them,
One because of the greatness of her size,
That highlights her pronounced curves.
To the other because she evokes, the reincarnated figure,
Of the Venus Simonetta, which by Botticelli
She was painted.

Once again, the absolute truths,
They get lost in colors of her range,
For all tastes are different,
As races they exist in the world.
Except the divine is perfect,
The rest is a Kanon or precept.

Porque no he de quererte cuerpo mío
Because I don’t have to love you my body

Because I don’t have to love you, my body,
If you have been with me since before you were born,
and we will always be together,
until it’s time to breathe your last breath.

We have gone through each stage of the
Path. A childhood playing with friends,
A happy adolescence among my people,
And the maturity that gave fruit to the children.
Only old age is missing with the blessed years.

Because I don’t have to love you, my body,
When every pain that I have felt
Talk about what we have suffered.
Of every hardship, deprivation, guilt
And I forget.

If your throat hurts, it’s a scream
Repressed, the silence that I keep
By silencing what should have been said.
If it is the heart that complains,
It is the joy that left, giving way
To sadness.

If it is the chest that feels tight
It is a lack of support, which we never receive.
And I could tell you more things than when
You are vulnerable you told me.

But now I want you to know my body,
How deep my love is for you
I thank God for this skin,
invaluable coverage of my Spirit.
And for everything that is inside, that I
It allowed a life and a destiny.

Estás lista!
Are you ready!

Look proud woman, your body.
Release prejudices, Conquer everything
without restlessness.
Raise your wings and take flight
Take out the caste, Live again!

Forget your fears, they matter very little.
You are ready! You have been born again,
Take a deep breath, bless the time
That has allowed you to dream and grow.

Walk quietly leaving your footprints
Take the trips you stopped taking.
wrap your body in very fine silk,
That smells pretty, roses and jasmine.

Fly so high that you touch the sky,
Conquer the summit of Mount Everest,
accept the risks, shake off ghosts,
forget the past, heal the wounds
that are still missing that do not allow you
Believe again.

take care of your body every part of it,
It has been so strong that when you fell,
From the ashes I manage to be reborn.
Sleep peacefully, receive in the Summer
With light clothing, let no one criticize
You get naked.

You are ready! Nothing stops you
Be everything that you aspired to since you were a child
Your being, don’t stop, you still have life left,
It’s time your body is fine.
There is no tomorrow, part now bless
The path that you still have to travel.

Escritora Mexicana. Ha participado con Artes de México en Utah y con Utah humanities en festivales de arte. Ganadora Del concurso de poesía Sor Juana, Segundo lugar 2020 y Primer lugar 2021.Cuenta con 3 libros publicodos, de los cuales destaca su autobiografía por el tema de Autoestima.

Mexican writer. He has participated with Artes de México in Utah and with Utah Humanities in art festivals. Winner of the Sor Juana poetry contest, second place in 2020 and first place in 2021. He has 3 published books, of which his autobiography stands out on the subject of self-esteem.

Poems:

• Changed my mirror
• Some summer

SP Romney is a songwriter who also enjoys presenting his lyrics as rhyming verse poetry. His works have been published in books and selected for inclusion in national anthologies. He frequently performs at West Fest and Cowboy Poetry competitions.

Poems:

• Some Urbans
• Gone
• The Sailor

Gloria Arredondo is a Mexican author and artist, woman’s rights advocate, social communicator, and passionate poet for truth. She holds a B.S. in Mechanical Engineering and Minor In Chicano Studies.

As a young immigrant, the oldest child, and the first one to learn English, Gloria’s family dependent on her language skills and advocacy became a way of living for her. She has written more than two hundred magazine/newspaper articles, six books, an audiobook, monologues, has contributed to five international and five national poetry anthologies, and was a radio host for ‘Solo Para Mujeres’ radio program. She’s the only Utah journalist that has provided Spanish-language written coverage of the Sundance Film Festival for the past six years.

Poems

• 90-60-90
• Yes, I’m Wild
• Questioning my existence

90-60-90

No, 90-60-90 or other sets of numbers do not define me as a woman. Neither does long, abundant hair. Not even big, curly eyelashes. And not large breasts, wide hips, a wasp waist, shapely legs, or small feet and porcelain skin. Not even fertility or the abilities of my ovaries.

Don’t apply your norms or standards of a perfect woman to me. As for your distorted perception or image of what I should be, also keep it to yourself because it doesn’t interest me.

I am unique, not made from a mold for mass production. I was not made to give you pleasure either, but to feel it. I was not born to make you happy, more to be me. I was created with love, with a universe of dreams and possibilities in my brain, with talents and skills, with an immensely big heart that knows what unconditional love, tenderness, and passion is.

Yes, I’m Wild

Yes, I am wild! You see me gallop like a runaway horse, impossible to subdue or tame to fit your idea of what I should be.

You think I’m unbearably weird and aggressive, like a cheetah. Instead, I would say I’m exotic and assertive. You think of me as calculating and a hunter like the eagle…but I’m just a high-flying and solitary observer. You don’t know me, nor do you know my goals or how quickly I want to achieve them. I would love to explain to you who I am, but it would be absurd because you would see in me whatever you wanted to see.

I further reaffirm your suspicions: yes I am wild, as wild as the fury of nature. I am explosive like the volcano that destroys everything to beautify its surroundings. I could lull you to sleep with the gentleness of a stream, or drown you with the flood of a tidal wave. I could give you flowers and sweet fruits, just as I could also sink and bury you. I could lift you up and teach you to fly, or make you dizzy as in a tornado and throw you where you could never find me again. I could be a light in your darkness or absent myself, letting your path remain undiscovered.

Yes, I am wild, exotic, and endangered.

Questioning my existence

Just with the effect of your mouth, the more you glide over me, the more my abundant skin begins to shrink; or, something grows without fitting well inside that enclosure called my body. When you reach the center of my universe, I can see you clearly even with my eyes closed. I can see the planets move while you move the way you move. The “pzzzzzzzz” causes explosions in some of the stars, and a frame forms around the universe that comes to life; the color starts green (almost yellow) then turns turquoise on its way to reaching an intense blue. As the frame starts to move beyond that color, my skin continues to shrink, the muscles from my toes to my calf become knotted, my fingers tightly grip the sheets folded between them. The blue transforms to a deep orange before becoming red as if it were the inside of a cherry. The planets and stars begin to burst, my body starts to lose its battle, death seems to approach. As everything finally turns golden, there are no more planets, there are no more colors, there is no more skin, there are no thoughts, there is no time. There is nothing… except silence!