Poetic Speech

I came out the dark hole| with a new light on the untold| And written notes from the bark's roots| Transforming riddles into unknown truths|

I've shared views with those who do not understand| Stated my opinions to those who care not what I think| Exceeded my head with rambling voices| They came to me for advice| Though they did not heed the noise| Gave me suggestions though they did not heed my choice| Still I speak| If only they cared enough to give a minute of their time| Perhaps wishful thinking might guide one toward my plans| I've gone through stages of plights| Weathered the fight| Isolation became my dearest friend through the longest walks| 

The nature of the presence lies inside the essence of the adolescents| Contradictions dictate the distinctions that lie under compositions| As journeys are told| The deceptions are being sold| Those who seek to find truth| Explore the abandoned cave| Latent in a forested land| Drought of light yet filled by embrace| Cataclysmic explosions spreading sparks| Soak the leaves| Anew autumn begins| The presence exceeds past tenses of future sights and memories trapped inside our past| Excavate that hidden past to build yourself a new path| And lead the others outside that mentality| We so longed to outcast|

Eyes witness the dryness of the land| The darkness in their veins| The blindness that hinders light| Patience in my day| But worry when I lay| The heat dissipates and coldness drifts my way| Struggles come and go| But the battle knows no end| It grows as chatter ends and the silence begins| And we wave the white flag| when we know our bare hands can no longer beg| And our mouths become dry from the screams we shout their way| I close my eyes| But the sounds keep knocking at my door and they will never stop|

I am| The one true hope| The story they once told| A legend revealed from the unknown| Secrets kept hidden inside mist| Trapped inside the safe layered in bricks| Destination for the lost| A quiet hush| They kept lowered inside a scream| Succumbed from a dream| The outdoors we misuse| To stay inside trapped next to our material delusions we so often abuse| The truth not yet exposed| Overdue| And so often we assume fact from the lies we were told since youth| The home where we rest| But see only when our place in line is finally due| And our futures become subdued|

I seem to get lost in this world and find a world filled by words| conjoined to form an image| An adventure in a landscape far away| Where I escape this land to navigate a page| From morning 'till dusk and not a sound escapes these lips| In this barren land created by another for me to explore| The loneliness I struggle with in my life gets pushed back| As I play the role of the protagonist and the diminutive backdrop| In sagas of life without rules| A moment of flips and stagnant gazes| As we relive our memories against the backdrop of these pages| Let this curiosity and anticipation for the future never depart| Fighting to close a chapter| I am left with three words to prolong the hope for this moment to never lose its course| An awakening to secrets once left in between a shelf in the up-most layer is reached| To behold the cryptics of a life once left out in cold| And held bound| Now forgotten in dust| Hidden in the darkness of exclusion| ...

A word once spoke is only heard through an opening in a cracked wall| Shrunk in the balance| Within strings moving from the wind's hold| Escaping push| Reinforced from strength of vibrations from a secluded silence|

May Erato and Euterpe preside over me as I compose this devotion into poetry for Venus| And string one of cupid's arrow in her direction| That may one day pierce her skin and enter her heart| Where she will learn to love this composer as much as he loves the voice of his inspiration| Drift my view toward her vision in the skies above| As I strum a note worthy of Apollo's lyre| A noise which makes crystals from stones and the glass render clear| Let clouds steer my chariot towards her palace| Where we may someday reside together| In lands between the Hyperboreans and Ethiopians| With a love as pure as that shared between Pyramus and Thisbe| Emotions thunder with lightning struck from her touch| The body stands stiff like a stone at the sight of her eyes| She opened the box| Letting go of all the perils of the world| Leaving with me the last glimmer of hope| That one day these Myths will transcribe up from texts into reality| And bring the fores...

Siempre amaré mi tierra| La cual no tiene césped| Cubriendo el desnudo que siente cuando le clavan con un martillo| Secuestran el inconcente| Y liberan al delicuente que asesinó mi constitución con sus gestos verbal| Sin dar un cuento para dibujar la tragedia| Dando fin a nuestra realidad| Sino pinta un gesto de dolor| Con el que secuestró nuestras vidas y comunidad| Dando leyes qué ponen mi vida en la tabla debajo de los en la ciudad| Un día viviré ese sueño| Sin reglas en la forma de constestar| En una siesta preguntando "¿con que crueldad mis hijos lucharan?"| Sin un camino en el pueblo de mi nacimiento| El cual vio mi cuerpo desaparecer y volver con mi madre| Mi patria| A sus senos| En sus besos yo respiraré| Y escribo en sus cielos cuando sopló mi humo| En las gradas de un castillo destruido por la tormenta qué mis lágrimas lloraron y mis gritos rayaron| -escribí, este poema despues de ver a calle 13 cantar una cancion muy lind...

Excavating thoughts purge the deep swell in an abundant forest filled with catacombs| Think not of what to say| Rather| Think of formations and placement for your words| The expression expedite hidden phrases| A realm in multitude of scenic shades| Which fill stains and covers from edge to edge| Put in motion a rehearsed visual| Captured for later interpretation and judgement| A glory outdrew| A painting foreseen inside that thought| Once emerged from a projector working its way from picture to sound| From sound to dialects| From dialects to expression| From expression to memorized interpretations or unsightly inked writings| Exclusive to emotional reincarnations| Contemplation and relegation amount heavy loads| To collapse the foundation in which laid heavy groundwork| Obscure water waves regulate the sounds of prejudgments| Before seen in the obscurity of the themes| Awake from the thankfulness of your mind| And enter into the depths of the b...

Amount the time given for a life| As the minutes pass another hour lost| Time stood still as the clock changed hands| A mass ordeal| Seemed lost in the vast appeal| The deal broke through with one foot left standing on crutches| Passed down from generation to generation| Applause to make those less worthy feel equal within the equation| Subtract those unneeded and multiply the ones in front of the class| Mask the wrinkled face| Alter the underlines with a more a chiseled outline| The gravitated figures| Replace them with cardiovascular enhanced figures| Increase the workload for those without a voice| keep them in line| With a straight lace running up and down their spine|

En sus manos la pasión y lágrimas de una nación| La batalla por la liberación| Ocultaron su voz| Pero su mensaje rompió el silencio de una nación| Canciónes y gritos sostienen su imagen y mensaje en la lengua de aquellos ovidados| El representa el coraje y el odio| El amor| Y el honor| El sudor construido por la calor que dio el sol en la frente de los secuestrados sin justificación| Este es el hombre que dio su vida por la liberación de mi querida nación|

My lyrics arose as the prophecies came| Blown away with a fan| Shown scattered misrepresentations throughout the shaded plans| I stand here corrected with a Molotov| Outraged by the flames that couldn't disperse enough| In due time the process proceeds| Blades cut wide open| Showing where the dissections bleed| Mistakes once shown| Lay hidden| The speed tripled| But the reaction slowed| Arrange the blocks only to knock down| Then rebuild again to reinstate a new shape| Rearrange the tears with a crooked smile| Hiding teeth| The tree enchanted by my flames| Lies causally| Attracting the lightning bugs ever so close| Burning their bodies| Evolving to dripping flames|

They said that if I continued to show my mind's growth| The expansion would exceed the interior into the exterior| And expose to everyone outside my mind| The thoughts and voices once excluded from the outside| Secluded inside| The noises once trapped in a maze| The display of the visuals carried those outside to awe and amaze|

Disgusting in the eyes of the misinformed| Mistaken by the mislead illusions depicted in the fog from the shower's storm| The rose grew from a muddy field| The grass departed to make room| No pesticide could dilute the pest that grew more than less| less space to place the bird's nest| Wind moves side to side| The silence reappears when the calm's inside| Outside is reserved for the storm| No reservations needed| Undertake the undertaker with a pitchfork| Slowly awakening| It's in that time we all choose to hide| Run fast on the opposite side| Slide down the snowy hill with that brand new sled| She bled for days| Stomach outburst from being misfed| Dead fungus on the wooden stove coerce the flames away| A new day arises when the winds blow away| She stayed in the same lane heading in the same direction| Concluding in the end of the road| Resulting in a dead end|

Give me the liberty to write a page| Exercise my pen| As the ink form the words into sentences| The similes and metaphors personifying my letters| Bringing them to life| Like shards of glass breaking apart| Broken into pieces waiting to be picked up| Wanting to be recycled and reused| Perhaps manipulated into something more helpful for those in need of it more than I| Why not reuse it?| There's no clear definition to define the use for this glass| More than one use| More than one flavor for different tastes to consume that which is inside| Why Have such beautiful china kept closed inside| Might be a treasure to be admired and shared with only those you love| Yet we are all apart of the same family| Shouldn't that beauty be open for the world to see and use?| It might be of a better use to someone in need of a drink|

Maybe they only judge me for my exterior, don't look forth nor beyond the surface. They claim to see me for what I seem. The complexities of my dynamics reach to extend outside the line. I'm outside the box, into the rectangle. It's the shell, the hard skin. The destined fate the world has given us, they see us all as part of the same extending line. I cut the corner, into a new direction seeking a different path. But yet I receive laughs and get mocked. Trapped in the imagery, this imaginary box. I paint the image purple yet all they see is black. No chance to set forth a new goal. Why bother with this kid!? He's just like the others! They all seem the same to me. Bunch of hooligans, disturbing the peace. He thinks he can change our minds, our views are steadfast. There's no need for you to try. Why bother writing these poems? There's no words that will change our minds. Yet I still scribble and doodle hoping one day they'll pass the m...

It's so easy to fall behind| The long road and obstacles blocking your way| Hard days turn to lonely nights| No one in sight to see eye to eye| They don't seem to care whether you loathe or love| Always in the background never in sight| They don't notice nor wish to look back| Struggling to socialize mouth becomes paralyzed| Words stumble to a narrow path losing the tracks| So what if you don't blend in| If you see the image from a different view| Stand up and take charge| Stand up to take flight| Soar across the heavens| Observe the beauty that is beneath you| The trees and petals you couldn't see| Begin a new life| Morph into that bird soaring and gliding so ever free| The skies have no limit| Spread your wings endlessly| To the ends of this planet to conquer the galaxies| Search for those who see the world as you see| Those who share the same views| But don't shun those who see differently| Search for that openi...

We all dream of a better tomorrow| I often daydream of a better today| Sleepwalking on a clouded haze| Sheeps dressed as wolves jumping on an open field| A cow gliding over the half crescent moon| No nights nor mornings| Only afternoons| No tall buildings| No skyscrapers| A moss field with roses| On the right, an undiscovered rain forest| The left host the farms| And five miles, there's an ocean| No tyranny in sight| No need for politicians| No oil nor the need for cars| No government| Let nature control our lives| No television| No more propaganda misleading| I see the truth from my window| Everyone runs and shares the land| All living together sharing one rooftop| Eating the earth's offerings from the gardens| I see from the mountaintop a sun that shines so bright| Yet overcasts the skies| Light waves stumble across the waters| Dogs off leashes disobeying owners| A land of hopes and dreams| A land without borders| ...

Her beauty struck a chord| Presence whispered a note| Songs composed from her voice| Soothing melodies with every glance| A masterpiece in every stance| Her eyes glow in the dark| And face shines from the light| These words constructed from her sight| Look created an orchestra| Pianos playing in my hall| Violins gliding back and forth| -An old poem, thought ya'll might enjoy it.