your vision, your voice
I am from hollows,
From madness and grief.
I am from the soul sanctuary under a tree.
(white, shining, so ancient looking.)
I am from my friends
whose I would die for,
in any time at any place.
I’m from promises,
from deep inside.
I ‘m from the do it all your selfs
and the it is all my fault,
From the you can’t do this alone! and the only you can do this!
I’m from he who oposies me
with swords
and katanas forged by me.
I’m from the hallway that frightens me,
eating all souls who wander too long.
From the rage that could not stay in,
from the fight within
The blood of my enemies
spilling out all over,
a moment of relief
to a viroces fight.
I am from these moments–
taken from my life–
a danger awaits all.
I step through the doorway, leaving the world behind.
My feet the path, and I continue where I left off
I continue the journey, savoring each step,
I am filled with pure joy that is only lesser than my love of the rain Sometimes I will find new things as I walk, places that finally make sense
I could not tell you exactly how anything looked,
or the order in which they appeared but,
I know it all as well as I know myself
I know what I will find even if I don’t completely remember
Some paths I take I don’t like but most are full of adventure
Each one a jewel carefully crafted by the maker
Even the ones I shy away from help me uncover the hidden bits of my soul, I draw inspiration from them all,
like a bucket drawing water from a well
They give me light, and it would be so easy to stay forever,
Leave the world behind and stay forever in the strange and new places
But the world always calls me back to soon and it breaks my heart to leave, The only comfort is in knowing I can return
One night I fell asleep in one of the small worlds and woke up, My light still on, its beam thrown from the bulb and onto my face Illuminating the doorway, still open
Smiling, I reach over and close the pages of the book,
Marking my spot with a bookmark so that I can continue the journey later With a sigh I turn off the light and go back to sleep,
dreaming of my worlds of paper and ink
That repeated dream.
In slow motion,
The cart starts to lose control
Wheels start to fly off the tracks,
The ground once nearby,
Now I’m touching the great blue sky.
Screams of poor children,
Men and women, old and young
I look out the window,
Wrong move.
My body defies gravity,
Back pressed up against the roof of the cart,
I close my eyes
And await my demise.
I am shaken awake
Relief fills my very pores
Maybe it was just an illusion
Reality hits me
Hard as a martial artist,
As I stare into the eyes
Of a life savior wearing a white coat as a disguise.
Why am I the survivor?
Why did God choose me
Over all those other people that still had
The rest of their lives to live?
Why not them being the survivors?
When they can achieve so much more
Than me.
Why am I the survivor?
So many things
They could have done
Only if
They had the chance.
So I now stand here,
Under the gaze of God,
At your footstep,
So I can look you in the eye,
And believe
You have the answers
I wish to receive.
They never come.
My answers.
I plead harder and harder.
I fall on my knees in tears
Begging.
Those around me start to nervous
They stare.
But I don’t care.
Dragging my feet,
I slowly get up.
Surrendered and utterly lost
I turn my back on him
Dragging my feet
Out the home of God
Almost to the street.
Then I hear it.
The voices of the long gone.
Women, children, men
Aunts, uncles
Grandmas, grandpas
Now I understand.
The opportunity wasn’t ever mine
It was ours
To inspire.
To bring hope.
Now I know
I mustn’t live for myself.
I must live for those
Who couldn’t.
I am the Survivor.
The claim I once dreamed of fell into my lap
That light cold glimpse of hope was placed on the tip of my tongue
The deep low clench that grabbed and tugged my heart has settled
That big light hazel colored fluttering butterfly has decided to stay
The words that I silently tucked behind my ears have been said
That tall glass of rusted tears has been poured down the drain
The thick layer of my skin that hid the real me was washed away in the shower this morning
I’m yours
They say we’re freaks.
They say we should be kicked out.
They say that our skin,
Is too dark.
Papa said,
“Ignore them.”
But I didn’t listen.
For I was just a child.
The children at my school would chant,
“Nigro,
Nigro,
Nigro!”.
People like me?
What does that mean?
What’s wrong,
with people like me?
I thought that maybe if I wished hard enough,
I could change the color of my skin.
So I could be like the adults we pass on the streets,
Who have treated us wrong for centuries and centuries.
Now that I’m older, I realize those people’s mistakes.
Our skin is different, so what?
We’re still people.
And we shouldn’t be ashamed for that.
People like me start filling the streets.
Their dark skin huddled close together in large groups,
Their eyes filled with rage and determination.
Screaming at the top of their lungs for equal rights.
I believe my Papa now.
And I hope more people stand up,
For people,
Like Us.
The Beach
When you go to the beach you always get greeted by the Waves.
You will always get cushioned by the Sand,
But one thing you will sometimes see is the Sun.
The clouds cover the Sun until you can’t see the Sun.
The rocks get beaten by the Waves so the sun can shine for the Waves,
And on your feet you can feel the cold Sand.
The Sand.
The Waves.
And the Sun.
So when you go to the beach expect to see Waves, the Sand, but sometimes the Sun.
A pear shaped body
Long, white, whiskers
Fur everywhere
Round, black, eyes.
A twitching! Nose
Long nails
Clean, powerfull, teeth
Soft, padded, feet.
A nibbling mouth
A silky, soft, smooth tummy
Rose petal ears.
Soft, delicate, fingers and toes.
“Wheek Wheek Wheek!”
It seems as if they are saying:
“Food! Food! Food!”
Always hungry.
A Guinea Pig.
Clouds
I’m looking up in the sky.
The clouds
move,shifting filled with nothing but air.
I sigh thinking about how people are like clouds.
We can be shifting and having a great time.
But can really be filled with nothing but sadness.
When I look up in the sky I see the different types of clouds.
They remind me of people,we are all different types of people.
All of a sudden dark clouds start to roll in it looks like a storm.
People roaring with emotions.
The storm gets bigger looking like its about to burst in a cloud of emotions.
The people get frustrated,flustered,furious.
But all of a sudden the clouds go back to normal.
The storm is over but sadly you go back to feeling empty.
Goodbye
I lay down listening
To the soft brutal sound of fighting
I take in the sickening
thought of them S P L I T T I N G
I bite my lips trying to remember
What it was like when they were happy
way back in September
But it’s all just to sappy
How did this happen
I thought this was like Shakespear
I feel pain then my heart starts SN APP ING
It’s just so unclear
I cry sobbing with each tear,
This is the worst terrible year