Vision+Voice

We ask,
Is it I, Lord?
Is it I?
and yet
No one is ever
So sure;
those with hearts
of gold,
bloodstained
have no fear.
of the metal…
detector.
We ask,
Is it I, Lord?
Is it I,
and I think:
It might be,
me?
With this world
come the rain
And the rust,
is my heart.
forever…
unclean?

A sunflower seed starts tiny and small
A sunflower seed can get mighty and tall
A sunflower seed collects emotions and power, love and integrity
A sunflower seed might look very puny,
but it’s because you can’t see all the things it’s collecting
A sunflower seed makes friends with the earth, the ground, and his leaves
A sunflower seed grows up to be brave and strong
A sunflower seed is no longer a seed
A sunflower is now a grown up plant that will withstand the storms
Always following the warm rays of the sun.

I used to… But now…

I used to wake surf,
But now I sit on the sidelines staring into the murky water.

I used to have no troubles,
But now I worry if I’ll make it to the next day.

I used to smile,
But now I force one.

I used to love school,
But now I worry if I’ll pass the standards.

I used to be happy,
But now responsibility is taking its toll.

THE POET: A POEM
by IPGH

The Poet
cannot write a work of art uninspired.
A forced poem
Is like a forced laugh.
Sad, stale, it’s sole purpose to please someone else.

Because a poem, first and foremost, is yours.

Because beneath all the fancy words,
The synonyms and the similes,
The metaphors and the mixed meanings

Beneath all the complexities the world calls a poem,

Lies a tiny masterpiece created in your heart of hearts

Lies a sacred being forged in the depths of your mind

Lives a little you, you in your rawest form:
A poem.

I used to think my friends loved me
but now I feel like they just want me to walk away

I used to know my friends wouldn’t talk behind my back
but now i’m not so sure

I used to feel loved
but now i feel unwanted

I used to have an abundance of friends
but now i barely have any friends at all

I used to think she loved me
but now I don’t know

Our family is smart and nice
They make our dinner — from burgers to rice.
We talk on walks merrily
And that’s what makes our family.

When it’s time to go to bed
We are always so well-fed
Reading books
In our nooks
It’s the perfect day.

My family is the best
Our home — a cozy nest.

Nothing But The Snow

The snow covered everything,
It blanketed the flower beds still trying to sing their song.
The dead leaves were embedded into the frozen icicles.

Everything seemed to be stuck in place,
Frozen, like, statues.
Nothing moved, but the people,
Trying to survive in the deadly weather.

The footprints were engraved into the snow,
Making a painting,
Illustrated by the village and its critters.

The snow was covering everything,
No other color than white.

I’m from family.
From food and baseball.
I am from a small house on desert Willow
I’m from the beautiful orange tree my grandfather gifted to me when I was young.
Who gives me the freshest oranges ever.
I am from pizza and speggeti.
From the Alvarez family.
I am from love and kindness.
I am from easter and Christmas.
From Colombia and Mexico.
And from all of this, I am the kind and loving young man I am today.

Up above my head I hear airplanes in
the sky, buzzing over my head like an
iron bee.

Down below the bridge I see bats fluttering
by with their squeaks loud as a lion.

Over the hill so green I touch the flowers
bright as a sunset on the beach when
the sky is burning from the heat.

Under the light I feel like everything is
going to be okay in the end and I really do
believe that I am happy.

As I pick up my pencil with no fear,
My mind goes blank and clear
Then ideas hit my head galore
A story about not one chore.

I travel to Japan
My pencil zooming faster than a van.
My hand is sweaty from my tight grip
Without a thought I skip.

My pencil dancing on the page
Feels like I’m an actor on stage.