E. de la Garza, 28 january 2013
Every eddy seeps into brokenness, wearing away the seams of morning
Pulling away the wear of night. Dreaming about hordes of twisted days
Penitent for a heart enslaved by desires burning the core, past senescent
Meanderings onto fetid cushions of corruption in backseats and coffin,
Hot ichor coursing in fetishes and groaning idols, searing away eyelids,
Splintering doors and burrowing into the Mother-- greedy children, still
Unable to pull away the labels scratching the mystery of consciousness
Welted with stripes and numbers-- heedless of dawn each one marches
Out of sync from every other toward a stunted horizon of meaningless
Privilege, borne like a tired story heard by patient listeners waiting until
Fresh ears have been bled of the unknowing, their innocence forgotten
Along with their inception before the light scoured the deadness off of
Darkness. Soon trickles provoke a gasp of wakefulness and futile flailing
Against the torrent of reminders, bobbing corpses of lost opportunities.
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 28 january 2013
He Haunts me.....I know he is watching
He Teases me.....I know he is waiting
It is a powerful connection but we have never met
I just want to say hello.........
Are we being overcautious because of our pasts?
We PRAY because we need to
I see him in my dreams.........
But only sometimes........
It plagues me to think that it may never come to be.......
Maybe it is just a fantasy
It is always with me.........
In my Head
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 28 january 2013
I put my pen to paper to talk about my trance
And then I hear the TV talk about an Avalanche
The snow was in the mountains way up high
So white and foamy it could almost touch the sky
The skiers were all skiing and it was a gorgeous alpine day
Then the TV said the whole thing went astray.........
The sheets of snow started sliding, it was a beautiful, terrible sight
Nature's wrath of winter; no one could stop with all their might
Not one but two slides of snow came to rest
No skiers were in view, the ski patrol was called to do it's best
They started making markers of where the skiiers might be
There might have been twenty or more
They found two by a tree
The troupe worked throughout the night and dug the glossy snow
The whole thing was such a fright-seven skiiers left to go
The only thing that they could do was say a long, long prayer
For all the skiiers to make it and be in their loving care
It seems as if the avalance had taken them away; but they were found
three hours later after everyone had prayed.....
Alex Perez, 27 january 2013
I CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT, IT'S NOT RIGHT THE WAY LIFE CAN DO YOU SOMETIMES; I TRY TO RELAX AND TAKE A BREATH, AND TELL MYSELF IT'S ALL FOR THE BEST…
NOW IT ALL SEEMS LIKE A DREAM…
… OR MAYBE MORE LIKE A NIGHTMARE; HOW MY LIFE TOOK A TURN FOR THE WORST; NOW I'M CURSED IT SEEMS, CAUSE JUST WHEN IT FINALLY LOOKED LIKE I WAS GETTING SOMEWHERE IN MY LIFE, ON MY PATH THINGS WERE WORKING FOR ME.
NOW IT ALL SEEMS LIKE A DREAM.
I WANT TO FIND IT AGAIN… A PLACE WHERE I CAN FIT IN,
WHERE EVERYONE AROUND ME ISN’T PLOTTING TO DO ME IN… OVER HATRED AND PAIN- ITS INSANE HOW THINGS TURNED OUT THAT WAY OVER GOING THRU SOME AWKWARD THINGS,
FIGHTING DEMONS TO MAINTAIN; SO THINGS AREN'T ALWAYS WHAT THEY SEEM,
FROM MAKING MONEY AND FULFILLING DREAMS; TO WALKING THE STREET LOST; LOOKING LIKE A FIEND,
NOW IT ALL SEEMS LIKE A DREAM.
I THOUGHT THERE COULD BE A COMPANION FOR ME… REALIZING NOW IT’S ALL ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE, THE PULL, THE DOUBT, IT’S BUILDING ANGER IN ME. I SHOULDV'E CHANGED LONG AGO, WHEN I KNEW THAT MY HOUSE WAS NOT A HOME, INSTEAD OF LETTING GO; I’M GOING TO BUILD AND DO IT 10 FOLD.
FIRST I HAVE TO GET RID OF THE OLD, TIE UP THE LOOSE ENDS, SO I CAN MOVE ON AND BUILD, SO I CAN BELIEVE IN MYSELF, AND BRING MYSELF BACK TO HEALTH AND OBTAIN THE WEALTH, I TELL MYSELF… IT’S NOT AS BAD AS IT SEEMS,
BUT NOW IT ALL SEEMS LIKE A DREAM.
BUT NOW IT’S UP TO ME TO MAKE A DREAM A REALITY.
BECAUSE LIFE FOR ME AIN'T WHAT IT USED TO BE!
“IT JUST SEEMS LIKE A DREAM”.
Melanie Gardiner, 27 january 2013
Upon the chains that held them down,
A fire was stoked, fueled by agony and injustice,
The fire to rid of the hatred in which they drown.
And the freedom came with such a promise,
That couldn’t be endured by the southern caucasians.
So Hayes ended the era of Reconstruction,
And the blacks still faced an unfair obstruction.
The men cloaked in white with their torches,
And ashen crosses laid in the grass,
No matter what class.
On they fought,
For the rights they were told of.
For the nonviolent, ML King preached,
Ever so closely the rights were reached.
They were attacked for being rebellious peacefully,
But on they fought.
Mrs.Parks did a deed that was ever so inspiring,
so the protests against bus transportation transpired,
Discrimination ended on the buses for good,
The act ever so cleverly planned by NAACP.
On they fought, just like Thurgood,
Did for young Brown.
The schools were ordered to be brought together,
Although they knew of the blazing weather.
For the Nine that were in Little Rock,
It was so much more than a transfer.
But it was a distasteful stock,
yet on they fought.
Young men that were as gracious as any other man,
Were punished for being at a counter.
Killed by the Klan when they were set free.
For Malcolm changes,
And Medgar’s death,
They stood like a titanium post in an ever growing tornado.
They were waterboarded and beaten,
But they continued their march.
Their spirits couldn’t be broken,
Their voices so outspoken.
For the generosity of Jonathan Daniels,
Who gave his life for the protection of the children he watched,
On they fought!
The Freedom Rides were brave and in peace,
But the explosions of fire were what awaited.
Little Ruby and her northern teacher,
Were still learning through the terror,
Through all the errors,
On they fought.
And the three men arrested for fighting in the movement,
Never saw the day after they were released.
Wallace held his post for segregation,
But he couldn’t stop the integration.
LBJ finally ended the fight by setting forth his acts of justice.
Those three laws changed everything,
They could now rest their bloodied wings.
From the sirens that lasted decades,
It took such effort to get the deserved rights.
From the red lines to the bombing that killed four little girls,
Their calls of desperation were answered,
On the eve of a new generation.
louis gander, 27 january 2013
No matter how the breezes blow,
just seek the promise, God's rainbow.
For Noah's faith was always pure,
never failing - always sure.
A rainbow I can see, not touch -
though it doesn't matter much.
God holds it fast, as He holds me.
Bright colors of His rainbow see.
So close, God's armor I will wear.
This world can't fill me with despair.
The storm clouds of the world seize
when touched, I am, with Spirit's breeze.
I state I'm not a 'doubting Thomas' -
but standing fast in Jesus' promise.
He parts the dark clouds of man's sin,
and brings full light of life within.
Before God's spectrum kisses ground,
I know His promise will be found.
I gaze - awed at His universe,
singing praise - each word and verse.
If joy is violet and indigo,
patience pink and peace yellow,
if kindness orange and goodness gold,
then all good fruit of His I'll hold.
If grace is blue and love is white,
and prayer is green and God is light,
the world's sin won't overwhelm,
for I'm in Him - another realm.
If life's a footrace, death blood red,
then God is rainbows of color ahead.
If we're resurrected from sin and strife -
then we have one great "Rainbow Life".
©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org
-------
Aryan K. Llalla, 27 january 2013
I love this airport
it takes you
and it brings you back
and me by the gates
seeing you coming
and going
sending you
into the skies.
maybe one day
you will not come
or I will die by the gate
Aryan K. Llalla, 27 january 2013
lost poems
like girls
that you never
saw for a second time
lost,hidden
like records of kids
that were adopted
. lost poems
my lost mind.
Aryan K. Llalla, 27 january 2013
This bird
This free bird
Gone die so young
From his freedom
Without finding out
That cages some time
Are lifesavers
But who knows
Maybe death is
Better than life behind bars
And this bird so young
Better enjoys his freedom
Until it last .
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