Poetic Speech

I speak in Arawak| Therefore I am still a Taíno at heart| Mind, body, and 'Ba' exceed the conscious realm| Masqueraded in shadows inside the glow of decades past| A soulful gem| Extinct from the destruction the conquistadors spelled| Captured| Then placed inside the house of Rothschild| Headless horsemen Diluted and polluted with their lead| Eye witness news| And catch the next mythical fairy tale cloaked inside of the tube| Struggling for tribal dominance| My tribal mentality transcends the capacity of civilized chivalry and colonized misery|

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...

He opened the door but she was too afraid| Too hurt to set a foot in| He left it open just for her| Even handed her a key| She kept it and opened it with her hands| Her touch| Her voice| Her looks| That special one she gave only him when they were alone| He was at his happiest whenever she called to spent a minute of her time with him| This was sparse| But he waited in anticipation for that moment| Feeling neglected at times| He felt unloved and unappreciated at times| She made all this disappear when she stood by his side| The hope was strong| But he knew that a relationship like this wouldn't hold for long| She made the call and his nightmare sunk in the deep oceans of his eyes| They say time makes the memories past| I guess memories of happiness can only last for so long| A hope for the missing piece can only connect for so long| Until that piece rust or is lost and decides to shape and mold to connect with another puzzle| while you...