Who am I?

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Photo Credit: André Brooks

Complex,
Elevated, stimulated,
Thoughtful.

Versed in poetry
And scripture
Philosophy and nature.

Inspired by one and a thousand verses,
Hundreds of stories.
Poetic,
Complicated.

Thoughts and emotions
Overflowing,
Destined for greatness.

Poetic visions proclaiming,
King to my thoughts,
Guardian to my own heart.

Visions on visions piled up
And I know I am destined for greatness.

My thoughts flow,
Every night and day is a blessing.

I was always observant,
Thoughtful.
What is life without God?
What if I die?

Heaven,
So far yet so close.
I chose this life,
To live my best.

That’s all I want.

Well versed,
And influenced.
At some point, my mind was distorted.
Distant thoughts that never were.

I’ve walked through faith,
To see the bigger picture.

Clouded sight and mind,
Had me at a struggle.
I’ve carried my sins and confessed them.

What is greatness?
Is it to live and die
Or die to live?

Tell me, what do you envision?
Nothing but greatness.

What is love without pain?
What is faith without tribulation?
What am I with no God?

To Travel

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Breathtaking skies,
Where I see the stars.
How far can I go?

Amongst a treacherous path
I’ve walked
One and a thousand times I’ve been lost.

Until I found myself,
Among the stars
And the stories told,
Across the bonfires.

With ardent passion,
I’ve loved
I’ve lust
And I’ve fallen off.

Among this earth,
I roam,
In different paths,
In different strides.
I seize my time
On this earth.

I’ve contemplated Keats,
Neruda and Thoreau.
It is time to write my own.

To see the world,
To examine life,
To live beyond the lines.

Oh, travel, oh travel!
You have taught me well.

Time

Ticking time that never stops,

Time, a linear concept,

Precious time, valuable time, wasted time.

They say it heals,

They say it’s just a concept.

When did it all start?

Is it related to the divine trilogy?

Always thought it was,

The clock marks the time

In intervals of three.

Time…

Does it really exist?

When is it the time to start,

And the time to end?

Don’t wait too long,

Before it is too late.

Be Creative

In every step,

In every direction,

Be creative.

When there’s nothing,

When everything is dismal,

You must create.

Be creative,

Even in your wake,

It can make the best cup of joe

You’ve ever had.

And when in doubt

And in struggle,

You must see what is not.

In a world full of words,

A thousand pictures

And a millions films

You must be.

Be creative.

Deprived

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Trapped… in what feels like my own desires,
I observe the world.
One night at a time.

Traveling, dancing and drinking
All in the mind.
Trapped within four walls
I remember, pieces of the past.

I am puzzled,
With the things that I did.
I was lost.

Confined in these walls
I’ve thought about my desires.
How I wanted to kiss her,
How I wanted to taste her.

A desired never fulfilled,
To experience life,
To live more than my thoughts,
To feel each day.

I, a victim of fervent passions.
Guilty of indulgence,
Guilty of my sins.
Now, I reflect upon these four walls.

What is?
What was?
What will it be?

I ponder every time,
Now in these walls
That I’ve created, from my past life.

To reach the ultimate freedom…
What does that feel like,
Once you are not deprived?

The Struggle II

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In the blink of an eye,
I lost it all.
In the blink of an eye,
It was all gone.

For what is life,
Without a struggle?
What is love,
Without a heartbreak?

What are words,
Without meaning?

Through the night sky,
The wandering mind
Looses itself,
In that blink of an eye.

The sea that was once tamed,
Is now a raging storm.
The summer days
Are almost gone
And both the night and day
Seem longer each day.

Dismal days,
Clouded mind.
Larger nights,
Paths diverged.

These are the days
Where I pick myself up.

Shakespeare said,
“The valiant never taste of death but once.”

And I, despite my losses,
I have not died.
Nor will I,
With a defeated mind.

Above and beyond
This down-trodden road
That I roam.
I know,
The comfort will come.

Once I decide,
What path I am on.

The Lines

The Lines

Where do I draw the line,
Where it all divides?
Will it ever end?

The bombs, the fire, the hate
All stem from the source
Of a decadent heart,
Pumping poisonous blood.

From Charlottesville to Spain
But it is no surprise,
Going through tough times
As our history tells.

Does it repeat?
Does it ever end?
Who am I,
But just a mere writer
Depicting in words what my heart perceives.

While others stay adamant,
Speaking in no regard
To the atrocities that were
And are to come
If we don’t unite.

The mask unveils,
Upheavals arise
And the sun goes down.

God help us all,
In restoring our strength,
Our faith and our step
To lead us to a path of unity
And not slavery.

Forgive us all,
God above.