Poetic Speech

There's a strange feeling that grows where the mountains glow| Lilacs mascaraed an earthy feel| Glares pass cadences from poems of past| Holding reverence in an ever-changing world| Weighing upon Atlas' shoulders| Strength comes in vexing times| Through smiles and gales| The concoction of a tragedy never fails| As we plunge towards the depths of a well| Our voices recorded and echoed where we fell| The story will be foretold as a myth once experienced| Expired from memory| Bellowed from a clergy| The cycle ending with a cry from her belly|

In the words of a poem my speech may be impaired| Captured dictations slither in to your skin| Phases wrapped in phrases| Ridicules left behind in praises| But we stride and march beyond the line| Perhaps My words will one day make emotional zeniths for you to climb| Helping you see the forgotten lands you left behind| And explore the new purlieus that await beyond|

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| 

At moments| A view escapes| Glory explores faunas of mythical creatures| Inside believers| We all consume tales| Embracing hopes of dreams| Only vivid through the thoughts we bring| Counting clues till the day we see again| The glance mirrors our own| Exposed only when seen through our esoteric soul| Thinking commences a spark to light a plain| Build a new terrain| With these moments| We conjure sporadic obelisks|

If ever there were magic to be held| In the presence of your voice the words are spelled| A spirited ritual form the movements with which you glide| Exposes the firmament as a reflection in your eyes| Brightness burns within your heart| You illuminate the skies| Igniting a feeling| Set a flame| Which spark my aspirations to write messages buried beneath a poem that spells your name|

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|

Bright nights and dark days| Sorrow lingers as the youth play| Tanks run the streets while missiles fill the sky| A thunderstorm of bombs and a whirlwind of bullets fill the path| Run and run until my feet can no longer bear| Dodge and dodge until my head can no longer care| A new day creates another grave| Fill that hole with my hopes and dreams| Destroying my home while my children scream|

Have you ever held life in your hands and caressed moments with your fingertips?| Like water they escape through the holes within your grasp| Washing away never returning to their rightful place| In your hands you hold a strong and powerful source| Keep them bare| Never cover or ever let go of the most important things as you hold your hands high to look into moments in a new ray of light|

How long is there to wait?| In dreams I see the day the morning fades| Night brings me once again closer| And so I chase dusk into dark| For days seem long when you long for the night|

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'm troubled by the lack of colors inside the seams that create my dreams| And sound in the noise which create my screams| A dead weight in the liveliness of my stride| Outer-limits enclosed the clairvoyance of my wondering eyes| Shades in illumination| Inner-beauty shackled in the enclosure of the inner mind| Into the open voices of an echoing path| Muddy dirt in puddles washed into mountains| Creating sweet fresh streams to bring life to a lifeless scene| A lonely road we must walk upon to reach the depth of the surface we were first brought on| And a gray scenic route exposed a rainbow inside a dormant cave| Glowing below a wind that sets the sea to waves| And waves exposed the deepest earth to the outer light it escaped for so long|

As lasting days spring from dawn| And gazing skies move beyond| A clouded daze keeps your image alive| Blowing winds bring the scent of you on desolate hills| In them they bring the feel from your hugs| I only wish they would hug me into the life beyond| As it blows and sings that mesmerizing song from your lips| I feel myself fall asleep| Wrapped in the warmness of your kiss|

A breathing ghost sent flashes of past judgments and old habits| The view was witnessed with eyes closed| In a distant memory that reappeared as the casket closed| Rain swept across my face| Down the land that saw me rest| And met with a cold stare| In a gloomy sky that reflected off the shining path| A space to resurrect| Manifested from a departing cloud| Giving room for light to shine| To breed with the wet dew| In that land where my memories rest| And a sudden adventure began| The roots grew a single rose on top the concrete slab that gave the sky a new area to glow|

If life is so beautiful, she showed herself to me covered in make-up| The play she portrayed brought cheers to the theater and a tear to her face| The mascara watered down and brought out the natural glow in her eyes| The stage now wet from emotions once struggling to appear| Placed caution to her every step brought forth from that moment on| The curtains rolled and she strolled back to wipe the mask from her face| The water washed her stains away| Revealing the hidden grace| And yet she stepped outside from outside that theater| Expecting fans with pens pushing forth for an autograph| Not one fan appeared| They all strolled along| Without taking notice of the bare face| Looking for attention| Another tear fell| This time without a smudge of make-up sliding along| She felt her skin colder than ever| She felt the tears| She felt the smog| Now without make-up to mask her face| She wallowed without notice| As her admirers forgot the face behind t...

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...

The pale face lie in a bold face disguise| Counteracts the saying which said to reverse the prior statements| Changes in the printing set in stone| Faces drawn with a scalpel| Opened and replaced by expressions lined in scorn| I'll mourn till the day you bring back that once natural condition for the people to learn from| Until you see the pain your implications caused| The nature of forgiveness will not blow with the wind| Nor rain in the spring| Melt with the glaciers| Nor row in the streams|

A screeching hall| Filled with mirrors on each wall| Looks catch one another and stare back at each other| A single thread connecting the reflections| Shades and lighting that blend to complexions|

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...