@barrista loved this!
As I stare into the abyss I often think something is amiss Searching for the unknown Afar I hear a slight moan I walk towards the sound... My eyes darting around ..
I stare into the abyss.. Knowing something is amiss....
Will I continue?
If a kiss was a raindrop I’d send you showers, If a hug was a second I’d send you hours.
If a smile was water I’d send you the sea, And if love was a person I’d send you ME
oraciones de mi barrio
I woke up to the sounds of the day beginning, Antes de que el sueño se aclarara de mis ojos. I woke up to the heavy tiredness radiating from my lower back, Anclando a mi cama. I send prayers up to the heavens asking God, Para sanar al mundo, para sanarme y para recuperar nuestra alegría robada.
Sorrow, la tristeza, arose out of the pit of my stomach, And laughed out at the corners of my eyes. Ze knew I wouldn’t drop a tear because I wanted to be macho, But ze turned out to be wrong. Oré y oré hasta que cayeron las lágrimas. Asking God to take away tristeza and heal ze.
I prayed and prayed until the tears fell, Asking God to strengthen me, Una enorme ola de dolor, Parecía salir corriendo, I was really crying. Oré y oré hasta que las lágrimas dejaron de caer, Y me sentí entera de nuevo.
I kept my arms extended to the sky, Mantuve mi cuerpo anclado a la cama, Until I felt light enough to fly away, Entonces oré para que todo funcionara para el mundo, y para mí, I told God I left everything in zir hands, Creo que ze me escuchó.
Then, I was in the shower, El agua suave y cálida desfilaba por mi piel morena. Joyfully. Alegremente. I slowly began to grow into the morning. Como la apertura de una flor de loto.
Alrededor de las 4:00 pm, oré de nuevo. Llamé al teléfono del cielo, Como el agente de seguros, Que sabe que solo estás escondido dentro Llamé a los cielos teléfono, Para mi cordura. Quería vivir sin dolor, sin ansiedad pero, Se sintió bien estar triste, Era la única forma en que podía derramar mi corazón y decir algo de sustancia. Supongo que tengo bajarme para escuchar a Dios.
Maybe this will all make sense in the morning I say, As it’s now 10:00 pm and I’m praying for the same thing: Para sanar al mundo, para sanarme y para recuperar nuestra alegría robada. Sometimes I just feel like jumbled words on a page, Without form, Como si fuera una abeja zumbadora, sin nadie que me entienda, Y mucho que decir. I’m trying to do as much good as I can, But it seems to never be enough to erase all the hate in the world. So I pray from my barrio of confusion and bilingualism and activism and blackness.
This poem is a journey into my mind if anything. It is a view into my prayer life and how that directly ties into my desire to live in the midst of my adolescent confusion, within a world that is in need of help. This poem is strikingly bilingual and is not meant to be a comfortable read for either parties. I vary the sentence structure to force everyone to pay attention to the lines. I throw in gender-neutral pronouns to refer to God and sorrow, to reflect my gender-fluidity. Thank you for entering my barrio.
I am a huge poetry fan! Have been writing since I was 16 and I LOVE Pier Paolo Pasolini. Check out my blog, although it's a bit old. https://aflowerpoet.wordpress.com/
I actually published a book of poems. Available on Amazon, called “Real life and fun poetry “.
Some free verse nonsense.
In the Arms of Moloch
The mob gathered, Apoplectic In the extreme; They yelled and spat Obscenities, Condemnations
And hid behind A gleaming shield Of piousness. Their leader was An older man Who knew the ways
Of God above, And ached for His Wayward children. The wise elder Spoke of lost souls, Of those murdered
In their mother’s Womb, stolen from This precious world Before their time. The women wept, And the men raged,
And the holy One continued, His voice rising: “They join up now— Yes, even now— To mock our Lord.
In witness of A great idol Cast in iron: A demon from The distant past Who’s named Moloch.
Depicted as A bull with a Human body, Moloch’s arms join To cradle youths Unwanted by
Whores, sluts—fecund Girls led astray And full of sin.” Those in the crowd Cried “No, not us, Not those we love!”
The godly man Nodded his head, Pleased with his flock. Then, his features Turned more dour— His voice became
Gravid with spite: “Moloch’s belly Is an oven. They feed him wood Until he glows Red, like hellfire.
Then a figure, Garbed in black robes, Places a babe Into the beast’s arms.” Some present wailed, And some fainted.
Still, he went on, “The child screams As its flesh sloughs, And the noisome Scent of cooked meat Poisons the air.”
Hate and fury Coursed through them all. Turned bestial, They gnashed their teeth, Beat their own chests, And stamped their feet.
“Will you allow This?” Their leader Asked his army. “No,” they roared In unison. And together
They marched to the Most convenient Planned Parenthood Where, to their joy, They made the news And went viral.
I might be a poet but I just don't know it.
Honesty at first sight, you exuded bright light I’ve had visions of love before, but never this kind Memories yet to happen all flashed in my mind On that first day, I saw your heart on your side.
Warmth at first feel, could this all be real? I never thought it’d be possible to heal. And the powerful positive energy you reveal Helps clear up bad air and dispel my fears.
Sincerely, yours truly.
There once was a couple who cuddled
They sat on the couch and they snuggled
He wanted to spoon
She called him a loon
And now he is confused and befuddled
When life and work makes you a mess
And twists you up with lots of stress
Before you get caught in that undertow
Cuddle up with your nearest pro
How much does this cost you ask ?
And what does the cuddler do at this task ?
The cuddle can restore your power
At the rate of one hundred per hour
“ITS SO GREAT!” .... You will tweet
as you get back on your feet
Never sour but so sweet
And you’ll ask for a repeat