and my eyes opened to look,
at everything around me,
the mountains, for no fee.
Ancient yet alive,
even before we arrived,
was a beautiful town
by the name of,
My presence is your gift, // from Webb and Lucchesi.
Son of the Sea. // Raised a stone's throw from
A summer swim. // Capable of feeling the oceans
Floor at seventy feet, not needing a tank.
A ventriloquist behind the vintage v8.
Bound to boast about my beaming blue BMW.
Now I am not talking about Johnny. // But,
I shall know cash. // The greatness to follow
The Unnatural green, is untouchable.
Sure to succeed, // I shall make my mark
On the island of Cayman.
Salutations to my saucy squad. / Be blessed to be before me,
Son of the grand Gustav / oozing with knowledge.
The victor of video games, / the star of soccer,
Many cultures have welcomed me / blessed to be in my presence.
The giant Germans are my ancestors; / their great fashion is something I carry.
My hair is one like no other: / always flowing in the wind while girls stare
The future forms many opportunities for my fantastic life ahead:
Medical magic is what I shall do; / I shall save millions of lives.
My touch is a healer of all, / I am the savior of society.
You shall bow before me, / I am the chosen one.
I stand here before you / son of Ivan,
The almighty spicy / spiciest of them all.
My feats are those of a barbarian: / Boston Globe Wrestler of the Week,
sectional champion, and future Recon Marine.
Beasts have periled in my wake / as victims of vile rage
From coast to coast; / my mark is immutable.
I have traveled far and wide: / the Aztec ruins,
Enduring years by the hundreds / holding steady ground
Homeland to my ancestors / perplexed by pure perfection.
They built high to be close to the gods, / sending sacrificial servants.
My life is that of a nomad; / never have I been idle in place.
One day I hope to return home -- / The City of Angels.
Here I will fulfill my destiny / concluding my captivating journey.
Dropped from the bosom of Nature
It free fell -- from the Sky
Powdery white to his mother's delight
He swelled and began to cry
Rocked back and forth -- with features so fragile
Like gossamer Wings of a moth
Wrapped in God’s newborn blanket --
buried in layers of white cloth
Minutes to years -- no longer pure
Mixed with the Dirt and the Grime
Trodding boots -- worked into the ground
It will meet Death in its time
The small reaching limbs melt away --
Only a few Crystals remain
Snowbanks Recede and hearts Sink
Until new life comes once again
The air of life,
is given away,
and given to the bubble,
so that it can rise up,
higher than the clouds,
despite popping before then,
we keep blowing our,
Bubbles of Hope.
Cascading beams of violent orange light
Stream listlessly into the darkening skies,
Amidst their fading azure tones.
The unknown beauty of the heavens enthralls
Even the most world weary of elders.
The blazing glory of Helios in flight
Disappears beneath the depths of the horizon,
As Artemis, the ever vigilant huntress,
Prowls the star strewn sky,
Her pallid face dotted with immaculate imperfections.
Mare Tranquillitatis in all her splendor,
Stands resolute, a beacon of humanity's insatiable curiosity.
And yet those intelligent stewards of earth
Look on with fleeting interest,
As they return to the more pressing monotony
Of politics, and petty intrigue.
Gone are the days of Plato, and Aristotle,
Of Galileo and Newton,
In their place man lays prostrate,
In fervent reverence to the material,
To the loathsome pursuit of wealth above all else.
To be or not to be is no longer the question;
The lust for wealth is all that remains,
In the cold hearts of men.
It’s a close friend of mine, a friend or enemy I have met time to time
The millions of bombs that fall upon the pane,
Or the thousands of reassurances upon my wet skin
When the rail falls, it appears as though I am crying along with the clouds
Well, that all depends if the rain are bombs or not.
The bombs that fall from above sometimes show what is inside a person
A still frame movie, always changing and never the same.
Inside these blue or clear shells, a case of melancholy and
The utmost case of infinite sadness.
The oldest and the newborn rain brings the same patterns
Upon my tin roof, my canvas, my shelter,
The timeless rhythm, the perfect beats
Uniform drummers above
Falling off and through the gutters,
The canals of sadness.
And I, glasses smudged, saw the rain
And the rain saw me.
In my eyes, you were a teacher
Not so much a preacher
Positive all the time
With very little free time
No limits, always a sky reacher
Always helping others
Acting like a big brother
Staying true to yourself
Helped me build myself
Appreciating the earth mother
Live life to the fullest
We all bleed the same blood;
See the same world.
Looks may be different
Our native tongue could be dissimilar
But we are the same
People act odd around certain individuals
Racism isn't in our DNA
It's taught through the teeth of bigots
Bigots who were born to hate
Hatred that has become an epidemic
Equality is what this world needs
And love is the catalyst for equality
We need to judge those by words
Not by their pigmentation
This is what we want
In life, the bends shape us,
and make us who we are,
they are the challenges,
and problems we face.
The big ones and the small,
help us get through,
the Upcoming Bend,
in the Road.
Wellness is the serenity throughout our soul;
That makes us feel safe and secure.
Wellness is the idea of obtaining knowledge about ourselves;
To get to know who we truly are as people within society.
Wellness is the sufficiency of consciousness throughout our minds;
That makes us aware of the everyday choices that affect our growth as human beings.
Wellness is a pursued goal;
One that involves becoming free of stress, socially and mentally.
Wellness is the root of a long lasting life;
A life full of happiness and success.
A found poem created from excerpts taken from Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk
You wake up
You have to go to school
Maybe you’ll go to jail
You wake up
You work a day job
Maybe you should just stay home
You wake up
You do the little job you’re trained to do
Maybe this is where you first wanted anarchy
You wake up
You cry now
This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom
Summer strikes like the devil’s wrath,
A sweeping and scathing wave of heat,
And the air sticks to the sweat on my neck
As I escape the unstoppable sun.
The next miles bring the joy of autumn and
a tempering of the sun,
With my passing painting the once green trees
the color of blood and of gold and the setting sun,
But as I continue and feel myself fading,
I see the Earth is tiring, too.
The dying grass crunches and scrunches beneath my feet,
leaving a path of brown behind me.
The painted leaves fall to the ground, going the way of the grass,
And before long all is covered by a thin layer of white ash.
The cold bites at my fingers and my toes,
The wind pierces my insulating armor.
Sooner or later, the Earth wakes from its hibernation,
And time seems to reverse,
My heavy and sore feet crush the snow underfoot and clear it with every stride
The greens come back along with the packs
Of animals running by.
As I finish my run and slow to a stop,
I see the seasons still progressing,
For when I am finished and life diminished,
The world will still go on.
Mounted out of the Mighty Miami, son of the Shady Slum City
With greatness and determination, fix the grass
While I work, and thrive in lavish lifestyle from my lawn mower.
Gone goes the grass from Boca Ratón to Boston,
Conquering piece after piece, blade by blade.
Through the land of racist rednecks,
The mighty Jamaican Mexican continues the assault on the ground.
But above the Mason-Dixon lies a challenge like no other:
The Towering trees of Topsfield present a new task at hand.
Some people can’t even stay there during these harsh months,
But who says Caribbean descended people can’t go into the fury.
With the turn of the key to the mower, and success,
My lawn mower only knows how to do one thing: grind.
And grinding gets you greatness, and greatness never stops grinding.
A personal boast in the epic style of Beowulf
Greetings to the opposition / I am the son of Burnis
The great conqueror. / Travelling from the City of Wind
Ages ago, / I arrived in the Fields of Lynn
And struck terror into the hearts of my enemies.
Word moved quickly and soon all knew of my terrific triumphs.
Then, in search of less feeble foes and greater glory,
I went on to the lands of my mother’s brothers
The School of Preparation /in a place called Danvers,
And I brought onto those who’d dare defy me / horror and suffering.
I defeated many in combat / without sword or shield
And subdued any who would wish the shame of defeat on my school and people.
Those who bore witness to the vanquishing / were left in awe.
The people rewarded my deeds, layered me in gold and threw rose petals in my path.
But I know I cannot rest on these laurels
For one enemy / remains undefeated:
Those sloths of the south / from the land called Xaverian
Will soon be brought to their knees. / I will annihilate them
And dab over their lifeless corpses.
Then they will know and remember the name
Roses are red
Oh wait now they are yellow
I just sniffed 10 bags of catnip
And I can’t see straight
My first dance was great, I had a lot of fun
Freshman all dancing, looking for a cute one
And while everyone was getting in the mood
I had no date, so I cried in the bathroom