My Father

My Father

My father is my hero.

He provided money, clothes, and a home.

What more could I ask?

A car, a mansion, a couple extra dollars

That'd be selfish of me.

I wouldn't blame myself if I was criticized.

Call me selfish, manipulative, sneaky.

Please and Thank You,

cause I definitely deserve it.

I've done it all.

All he's done is work hard.

Wake up at 10.

Run a business till 12, yes midnight.

Bring food on my plate.

They always told me

he works hard

he cares

he loves you.

And I slowly learned,

I have everything I need.

Without My Aglets....

Without My Aglets....

Frayed laces.

Along with them

comes a taste

of unkemptness,

frustration

of ever looming concrete.

Higher Expectation

Higher Expectation

My plans tonight,

a walk about town.

What could be more serene?

'Tis the middle of June,

the air conveys that story.

The air is viscous and sticky,

like swimming in a potter's slip.

I can already imagine the sounds

of downtown.

The insect buzzing

of neon dragon flies coloring

their respective businesses.

Cabbies and other upset motorists

yelling slurs and angry vulgarities

out of roadrage.

All the while,

overly persistent street rats

catcall at women passing by.

The atmosphere probably

holds the everlasting smells

of car exhaust and the smog

which smothers this city

like a fire blanket.

The same fumes gave

the air a metallic

taste resembling

burnt garbage.

I could just imagine the haze

obscuring my vision

like a swim in a murky river.

I never did like New York.

I think I will stay inside tonight.

See No, Speak No, Hear No

See No, Speak No, Hear No

No one sees the effort that's being applied,

Not even the forces of positive intentions inside.

I take the word of the ones who think I lied,

And I get deceived

So forever I'll hide.

Being accused of false perpetration

Triggers my intense state of articulation.

Now I'm disbelieved, honest or dishonest,

My lies are their truths, trust never promised.

Their ears ring to “one” but I say “two”.

Even if I say “one”, the bell is defused.

They know the stories of the what and the who

But Who is the liar, and What is one too.

See none of me.

Speak none of me.

Hear none of me.

Nonentity.

Pain

Pain

Does pain always have to hurt? No.

Does pain create lies? Yes

Some love pain.

Some also lie as a result of pain.

What's the actual definition?

A tingly sensation, maybe?

There is difficulty with trying

to define one emotion without adding

another emotion.

But it's easy to feel an emotion

to mask another one.

Some can chant, “Pain, pain, go away. Don't

come back any other day.”

If only...

That were true.

If only that can happen.

If only we could wash

away the panic.

If only we could just chant

the pain away.

If only I can let go

without limits.

You dumb ol' pain.

Perspective Poem

Perspective Poem

I laugh at the hataz, they act like I'm perfect

and if I become rich I know I deserve it

juvenile ain't worth it

being broke ain't worth it

I'm up when the sun's down

like I was working the 3^rd shift

better watch who you worship

watch who you pray to

no matter what happens

the hataz will hate you

but don't let that make you

your mindset will take you

to all sorts of places,

new people, new faces.

Self Portrait

Self Portrait

I'm painting my self portrait.

For this work I've chosen

the colors red, black, and white.

The red expresses all the pain and suffering

I've gone through.

The black is for all the bad

things I've done and the dark

secrets in my past.

The white is for the new life

I have given myself,

the forgiveness I wish to earn.

The background will depict abuse.

My life has been filled with it in many forms.

In my hands I'll be holding a mirror

so others see themselves

before judging me.

My eyes will look blinded

so I can see true beauty.

When people see my portrait

they will ask themselves,

“when will his suffering end”.

I will dedicate my portrait

to the world around me

so everyone can learn from my mistakes

not make their own.

I will name my portrait

“The Son of Assumption”.

Number 1 Contender

Number 1 Contender

She fights with her faith and heart,

not with her fist.

Although she wants to,

she physically can't.

She has been faced with this rival twice.

This is the most feared rival in the world.

He has killed millions,

no, trillions of beings, animals included.

He takes her hair without permission.

He amputates the left side of her chest.

He makes her sick for three days a week.

He attacks her immune system.

But her faith slowly becomes a shield,

a shield of bravery,

a shield of courage,

a shield of vast confidence,

a shield the shape of a heart.

Her rival debates on whether to stay or

go.

But the shield is so powerful,

as if the naked eye stared into the

sun from two miles away,

more powerful that the gravity that pulls

the earth.

She, is my inspirational hero.

She, defeated breast cancer.

She, is the number 1 contender.

E. A. P.

E. A. P.

You've taught us

so much about ourselves

Our fascinations

Our fears

Our loves

Our laments

You were the master of horror.

I think you still are.

Even your initials, when stated,

make the sound of a scream.

I ask you, though,

Edgar A. Poe

what inspired your

fascinations and your fears?

You constantly allude to death.

Is it your tuberculosis curse

that was the root of this

constant, recurring theme?

Or was it something deeper?

Could it be your guilt

with these occurrences?

Is that why you were so reckless?

A drunkard and a loner?

Edgar A. Poe

their deaths were not your fault.

You may rest in peace.

Champion

Champion

America is my champ. It gave me a chance to stand

in a stance, chest out, chin tucked. Europe asked us for what?

British soldiers stormed colonist bases. There is a big difference

between loyalist and patriot. The British way of thinking

was clogged like a pore, and, in violation of the vice admiralty

courts. The Tea Act, Stamp Act, Coercive Act. Europe was

strongly recoiled on this. But they would never take away the

Independence of American Royalness. I wish I could thank

all the colonists but I can't. The greatest thing about this was

Benjamin Franklin being ambassador to France.

Why You Gotta Act Like That

Why You Gotta Act Like That

I have to battle adversity.

When I talk, my mind is not appropriate

so it's hard to filter.

Everyone has a sweet intention

it's just that their words are salty.

I'm in the vicinity of four walls.

This is the first place I have been in that

causes my brain to pause it's thoughts.

But then again, it's just the world

doing it's job.

The purpose is to operate.

Emotions constantly change,

but the pain stays the same.

I'm trapped inside myself and

trapped inside this building.

But when I get the discharge

to step outside myself

I will find myself trapped inside

this world.

I don't see a difference.

The only difference

is this world minus me

is the start of walking into the new me from zero

But it seems to me that, that's all I ever had

was zero.

Incandescence

Incandescence

Did you ever hear the saying,

“Light will always prevail”?

This is because of my preference

upon what I choose to eat.

Darkness is my sustenance.

It keeps me shining bright.

Thus it is my gift to the world,

to eradicate the dark.

Darkness is a fiend,

nemesis of diurnal life.

Darkness hides beauty.

I give it emphasis.

Darkness harbors danger.

I expose it's malevolence.

Do not be afraid of the dark.

He's a coward who runs and hides.

I'll lead you, unharmed

through enemy territory.

Call upon me,

protector I shall become.

I am light

savior of the day.

Finish Line (written after the Boston Marathon bombing)

Finish Line

Don't rush, don't hesitate, don't pace at all,

because there's always a finish line.

You might have people you care for and haven't seen in

decades cheering you on.

But turn back.

Why? might be your question.

But, where? is the one preferred.

Where is my son?

Where is my sister?

Where is my daughter?

Where is my brother?

Please tell me where are my loved ones!

My only answers are that they're in your thoughts, in your

hearts, in your pictures, in every tear that you will or had

already shed, in the other people that'll remind you of them,

and, most importantly, in the skies looking down on you.

I can't make the scars be forever unnoticed.

But I can make the pain and tears go away.

There will be much more news.

There will be many more memories.

And, horribly, there would be many more acts of terror.

I'm the only one who can tell.

And who am I?

I am Father Time.

                                                                                                           I'm sorry.

                                                                                                                      Rest In Peace