Poetry & Prose

He will not surrender to any force. Whether it be the strike of a lightning bolt or the jab of a switch blade, nothing will tear down his frame. He doesn't bend and he will not break. No one will ever be able to know the mistakes that he makes; he isn't aware of them either. His intentions are carved in stone - to him, every action has a blame. Before he leaves Earth, humanity will have all once pronounced his name. He is poetry, unlike prose. No pause, or breaks, or hesitates; he moves in the momentum of the bold. When one shrub is passed it's pushed, flattened and slashed. There is no returning, and absolutely no mourning. He can feel for what has been shoved, but he walks along remembering where he belongs. Because even if he cares, he could not dare to drop his legend, to live complacent in love.

You know when it's real.

Be yond.

We have to do more than we imagine we can.
We have to inspire by humiliating ourselves.
We must leave our comfort to find the value in comfort.
We must show strength no matter how weak we feel.
We must remember that this is life and we are real.

Dear Universe,

You have been kind to me.
You provided me with life,
and air, and a land to roam.
You were simple and serene;
a place to love and be.
Discovering you meant discovering me
and I wish I had that courage when I first had eyes to see.
Everything you are is everything I am,
still I'm preoccupied with "who I have to be".
Passionate about tangibility,
worshipping the culture of accessory.
Loosing grip of my immortal energy,
claiming illusion to be reality.
But even worse, treating what's tempory
as though it'd last forever.

thin as wind

Sitting still with winds around me.
Circles over cirles, Time is passing through me.
There isn't nothing that I can't do
Free of form, I feel out-of-body.
The secrets that once were are no longer hiding.

And she feels so despaired. Her eyes sell lies at low price and he tells her that it’s nice. That's where it stays because that's where it’s played: On the surface - for rent, never by owner. Whoever can stay long enough eventually discovers her basement, where ghosts linger and her histories are hidden. It's then, when the dust is blown off and her true color is risen.
Do they remain, or do they then leave? It becomes a burden they usually abandon.
They word it like this though, “That girl's crazy, yo.”
“She’s fine, but she’s psycho."
This is how the boys explain what they don’t understand, and they go on searching for a perfect woman, without ever becoming a man. Some run that race til they’re about forty. I wonder, do they ever grow to be men who can comfort a woman when she's hurting? If he hadn't stopped at the surface of her blue eyes, he could have seen past her disguise. And she would have known he meant it, saving her from more lies to be accepted.

worry my life away.

There is poison flowing through my veins,
I feel it spreading to every part of me.
It swims with my blood and now my heart is at risk.
If it's as deadly as it seems, this pump will be the last of me.
Right now is all I have, but right now has me so sad.
I was oblivious to the poison's entry. Perhaps it conned it's way in-
like the picking of my pocket while a friend goes in for a hug.
It hurts that much; an open wound that burns at the touch.
My body's aching for a revolution, but this disease takes me far from my heart's desire; into the darkness, dimming the light of me.
I am only human, but can I endure such trauma?
I disassociate from this wilderness because no one can relate. I see people living their lives - making money and making decisions; sticking to decisions and elevating with experiences. I see the floor beneath my feet and it hasn't changed in hundreds of weeks. I don't see life in my life - I see regret and living without cause and effect. I don't know how to pursue a beautiful life - working toward a dream - I'm a hypocrite stuck in between.

i don't need a dollar

So much is happening all at once
I don't have a dollar
But son my dreams aren't getting farther
They are advancing as I keep dancing
To the beat of my passion, everyday
I don't need a dollar to be this way
I don't even need a dollar to be
And that's what I pray others will see
I don't own the riches that comes from disguised slave labor,
I own richness from within
That gets polished by my thought,
Love and manifestations of creative engagements
I don't ever want to be mad
By the material things I don't have
I know some days will be sad
But better for me so I can know the sun when it shines
I forever want to see the world
Through these righteous blue eyes.

Sat upon the Earth alone,
there is no life around me.
When energy passes,
it doesn't see me here.
Waiting,
like an invisible person to be seen clear.

From my indian style,
the world is rather small.
The blades of grass are just beneath me,
so close to me,
yet I cannot fathom how they root across the continent.

Who is sitting at the farthest stretch of the same root?
Are they waiting like me?
Or is their colorful soul set free?

The clouds above me
float innocently.
Parading along, singing a song,
I wonder what lovers are looking up
engaged in the same free show.

Soft wind kisses my cheek,
with a chilling effect,
it runs through every body it meets.

Suddenly, I am not alone.

The world has given me natural comfort.
The atmosphere has hugged me,
and the soil recharged me.

Energy from the green is what I need.
The spirit that is recycled amongst humanity,
the soul of Mother Earth
which sings to us our harmonious worth.

As quoted from Leo Buscaglia;

"To use it all up is Love..."

1. Each day I promise myself not to try to solve all of my life problems at once.

2. Starting each day I will try to learn something new about me, about you and about the world we live in - so that I may continue to experience all things as if they have been newly born.

3. Starting each day I shall remember to communicate my joy as well as my despair - so that we can know eachother better.

4. Starting each day I shall remind myself to really listen to you and try to hear your point of view, and discover the least threatning way of giving you mine - remembering that we are both growing and changing in a hundred different ways.

5. And starting each day I shall remind myself that I'm a human being - and shall not demand perfection from you until I myself am perfect. (So you're safe.)

6. Starting each day I shall strive to be more aware of the beautiful things in our world. I know there is ugliness, but there is also beauty and don't let them tell you any differently.

7. Starting each day I will remind myself to reach out and touch you with my words, with my eyes, and with my fingers; because I don't want to miss out on feeling you.

8. And starting each day I will dedicate myself to the process of being a Lover, and then see what happens...

"If you were to define Love, the only word big enough to engulf it all would be Life."

peace.

To be completely honest, it's not in the things we own. Happiness, fulfillment, peace, does not come in form. We've heard this all our lives, and as corny as you may have taken it or as phony as you perceive it to be, it is the ultimate truth. When we meet strangers, often times than not, we hide behind forms to portray who we are - we act happy because of the things we own and the accomplishments we've founded. We seldom share honest joys or real despair; matters of the heart and soul. We rarely reach out and ask for help in the form of touch, love or understanding. It is this ditch of selfishness and disregard that humanity keeps digging deeper and deeper. It is our solidarity that is eventually going to destroy us. We have to find our interconnectedness and tune our spirits. We cannot wish to find peace through outward forms, for peace develops from the inside. Once we accept who we are, honestly and completely; once we believe in our dreams and our strength; once we plan our steps carefully and execute courageously, then peace be to us. Then, and only then, will the power of love shine from our hearts and unto everyone we meet.

Suheir Hammad

"TALISMAN
it is written
the act of writing is holy
words are sacred
and your breath
brings out the
god in them
i write these words quickly
repeat them
softly to myself
this talisman for you
fold this prayer
around your neck
fortify your back with these whispers
may you walk ever loved
and in love know the sun for warmth
the moon for direction
may these words always remind you
your breath is sacred
words bring out the god
in you."

This lady, poet, author, political activist, beautiful human being inspires me.
She writes with love, speaks with grace and with her words has travelled all over the place. I see now what I am working toward: a brave me, unafraid of speaking to the world.

My focus and Attention isn't in any of this...

It's a race of the masses and I'm compared to molasses.
What's important to them is insignificant to me...
I can't find the worth in living to make monetary.

For even if they hate it,
even if they're soul broke,
They still push for disguise,
for fantasies and lies...
Because they'd rather get approval,
then face the truh that I know.

It wasn't meant to be this way,
I never wanted to judge...
I know exactly how it hurts,
all I want is Love...

But when the money judged me because I didn't commit to fake,
how did it figure I'd react when my soul was at stake?

So I will be no fool,
but do what keeps me full: mind, heart and belly...
to learn what appetites my bite so I never end up settling.

If it sounds like I've figured it out,
I'm not even close...

I'm restless 'cause I'm relentless and can't respect the routine.
I can't push for something false,
or study strategies to manipulate the costs...
Or learn the ways of a beaurocratic boss in hopes of one day getting a day off.
I can't say yes to the crooked system.
I can't read my school books without thinking it's all twisted.

That's why I cannot focus...
that's why I'm in it deep...
Because I cannot believe that people don't fucking see.


((this prose is an act of defense
to the values of man that have been put to the test.))

See their Lies

They are probing our minds with propaganda and pride,
"Do what thou wilt" embroidered on their sweaters,
selling the lifestyle they sold their soul to weather.
Making it appear like they're really one of us,
personifying the plastic to deeper our lust.
With this degree of control we don't see the hoax;
swimming in deceit while our freedoms fight to stay afloat.
Fraud and illegal laws conned by inside jobs.
Our minds don't look much into it,
blatantly desensitized for the ruling elite of them.
Another strategy to keep us in the dark,
to strip us of our smarts,
transplant chips into our hearts
and ultimately tear or individual souls apart.
Or to become orderly -
that they hold most importantly.
To dumb down the masses
and intrude on true school classes;
with standardized tests
and curriculums that put our children's imaginations to rest.
To turn us into a whole,
so they can steal the show.
One of us can do nothing,
but a nation can do much,
So stop wasting your mind on petty such and such!

Resolute.

I told myself that 2011 was going to be a year of action.
No more spoken ideas; if my desire is real then I need to prove it.
Words can be so pretty. Dress them up and make them dance; make it seem like they stand a chance. But when my throat closes, their echos resound in my head.
Over and over again, I get more opportunities to question and threaten them.
So no more allowing myself to over-analyze and ultimately worry.
No more speaking as if my soul is in a hurry.
Words don't replace the fate of action; they don't bring you closer to satisfaction.
If anything at all, they distance your fall.

The real me
is begging to be set free.
Out of what's expected,
A world where nothing's rejected.
So many nights I wish
to drive away,
Off into the unknown,
A society that to me has never been shown.
I crave the mysteries
That life is hiding.
No more residing
where the ordinary is abiding.

Breathe it in
and exhale out,
let me know what it's all about.

Feel the trembling inside
and the worry that tears up one's eyes.
It's hard to place your finger on it,
but it relieves to have acknowledged it.

Stinging initially,
denying so it'll stop;
lying to the face of it,
believing then the pain will drop.

But the pressure pushes till your bones become tight,
until your center reflects a flourescent, white beam of light.

Breathe again
and follow the trend.

Keep with the motion,
a steady and concrete devotion;
remain mind strong
as your soul struggles along.

Exhale out,
release all doubt.

Narrow In.

Weaving through the lines of time
My vision has become perpetually fine.

Revolting against the constraints
Imposed by many minds;
It's the common illusions,
Day-to-day soul confusions
It seeks to unbind.

Burying the burden of expectedness,
And suffocating the vexatious feat of fear;
It's the rain to end the drought
Of excessive amount of doubt.

Because I can't be what they want me to be,
And I'll never want the dreams that they flaunt.
For they cost an eternity,
Yet the quality is poor.

They're conning our life away,
Lying it will lead to Heaven's door.