Un tiempo

Estoy  perdido en tiempo, en el tiempo que a veces dura la noche.  El tiempo no importa los sentidos de mi.  Estoy esperando por un tiempo que puedo dormir durante la noche.  Un tiempo cuando todas las personas estan allegres.  Un tiempo cuando el mundo mira mas grande que el universo. Voy a tomar un tiempo para cerrar mis ojos para tener un sueno del mundo que esta en mi cabeza. 

Already Faded

I started this journey by picking one spot on the map.

It started off fun with interesting history along the road,

Stories and memories shared as it continued,

But now all it offers is confusion, exhaustion, and misguidance.

I’m still on the journey, but the road offers no scenery and no more more adventures.

The interest is gone and

The road I initially wanted to travel and the road I’m currently on are no longer the same.

Nothing is shared anymore and the one spot on the map continues to fade as I have already faded to it.

Always in My Heart

I remember as a child how you would visit us in Texas.  You always made me laugh and told me stories about my Tia Mine and my grandpa.  Oh you and my grandpa would always argue over which channel to keep the television on.  It always made me laugh and I can still remember your distinct voice calling Tia Mine “Minerva” to calm down her brother.  I also remember you walking me to the corner store to buy me any and all the candy I wanted.  I always looked forward for our walks together, but secretly, crossing that dangerous street that separated us from the corner store always scared me because you walked slowly. You were the only person that would actually walk instead of drive. 

I remember being so amazed by the fact that you had webbed toes.  I still laugh at the memory of you trying to scare me with your toes and me actually wanting to touch them.  I just now realized that you probably never had toe socks. 

The first time I visited Pennsylvania was for Thanksgiving when I was in about first or second grade.  I had an amazing time, especially at the place that made fake snow.  You found us a sled that you had in your shed and watched my sister and I go down small slopes.  You were a remarkable man, always making sure I was having fun. 

The second time I went to visit, I went alone my senior year of high school.  I enjoyed spending time with you and Tia Mine.  Although, not being able to do as much as you were able to long ago, you still took me for drive around Waynesburg and us three enjoyed some great Hardee’s burgers.  I still remember which table we sat in and one day in spirit you can sit with me again. 

I’m sorry I missed your call and forgot to call back.  This is the second regret of my life and I hope another like this won’t happen again.  I still have your voicemail and listen to it, just to hear your voice.  You said you wanted me to visit again and believe it or not I was planning on it for next month.  I had already told my parents and was going to stay for a few weeks.  I missed being up there with you and Tia Mine.  I enjoyed the company and enjoyed the simple things in life.  It always felt like home there and I will miss that. I will also miss your random calls to just talk to me. I will especially miss the call on the birthday we both shared.   If I could turn back time to pick up my phone, I would in a second.  Uncle Kelce, I love you very much and I think of you constantly.  I’m so sorry for the missed call.  I will call you tonight and every night through a prayer.  I know you’ll be listening. 

We love you so much!

A Message..

One important call missed,

One voicemail heard,

One call back that I didn’t make,

5 minutes of what would’ve been the last,

Gone forever.

Something I promised to myself that wouldn’t happen again,

Happened again.

Two times to learn from my mistakes?

Why not the first?

I can only now imagine the words,

But never can I say I heard them.

Only a voicemail, but never a call back.

What If?

(9th grade)

It's night time, but
why am I still awake?
Am I dreaming or
is it the noise from the hall?
I hear it coming closer and c-l-o-s-e-r and c--l--o--s--e--r
It STOPS...dead silence
now I see a shadow of a human
and I hear it again
coming into my room
I see that it's a man, a robber.
There's something in his hand.
I don't know what it is, but it's shiny.
He's walking towards me,
and I don't know what to do.
I get up and try to run,
but he holds me back
and now I am stuck.
I finally see what is in his hand.
It's a knife full of blood
Blood that comes from not that up above
He takes one more step
and strikes at me.
I feel a sharp sense of pain near my heart
I'm shocked for a minute
and I fall to the ground
This man wants me dead,
but I don't know why.
He strike me once more,
but this time I'm out.
He disappears as I close my eyes.
My life was taken
but I still don't know why
People take things as if there is another tomorrow,
but what if ther is no tomorrow?

Decisions

A poem I made back when I was in 9th grade.

Your life is long.
Long like the road that never ends.
Ends either good or bad.
Bad when you make wrong decisions.
Decisions that can change your path.
Paths that lie in the dark.
Darkness that later fills your heart.
Heart that has no fate.
Fate that has gone away.
Away from you, it will go.
Go in the wrong path and you will pay.
Pay a death in a big disgrace.
Disgrace that will stay.
Stay for eternity.
Eternity that will separate.
Separate the good from the bad.

Years that Surround Us

Thousands of old and new books lie in the shelves around me.

Some have been around for two decades and others a whole century plus more.

Not all are read.  Some are just dust collectors written by authors that fade away as time evolves.

The pages are ripped and yellow with a smell of death.

Untouched for years and in the shadows of the other books.

The previous owner is either dead or ancient.

The book holds more history than a man who fought at Pearl Harbor.

Through the hands of many and scanned by many eyes. 

History is in front of us, in the books, in the shadows, awaiting us to come by.

Warning

R.F.

The days will come when you will cease to know,
The heart will cease to tell you; sadder yet,
Tho you say o'er and o'er that what once you knew,
You will forget, you will forget.

There is no memory for what is true,
The heart once silent.  May you well regret,
Cry out upon it, that you have known all
But to forget, but to forget.

Blame no one but yourself for this, lost soul!
I feared it would be so that day we met
Long since, and you were changed.  And I said then,
He will forget, he will forget.

With the help of a friend....

(Although, silly, cheesy and different in so many ways, I did post this combined work as proof of our friendship.  Thanks J.)

It starts as a seed,

So new and so fragile

With water and sunlight it sprouts through the dark dirt into the polluted air,

Trouble comes as a solid block of cement covers the one small space forced to the seed.

Although solid and strong, the time and the stress of the earth allow the seed to grow through the concrete.

A refreshing breath of air is taken and it’s time to breathe for a continuance of something strong.

That is the persistence of a great friendship.

Suspension of Consciousness

One sound, the sound of rain tapping on the window is the only sound entering the room on this gloomy day.

It makes a body shrivel up into a sea of blankets and a school of pillows. 

The pair of eyes is starting to swell as the sleep is fought off by an army of straining body muscles.

Sleep is victorious and it’s off to another world for the sleeper.

The dream catcher is taking a break and allowing the imagination to roam the brain and travel from place to place until all of the senses are involved in a movie that only the sleeper can experience.

A few hours pass and the sleeper is awake. 

The sleeper begins with a refreshing yawn and a bodily stretch to begin another day.    

A Remote Mind

The night comes to an end.

Only darkness is to fill up the room.

My mind in a foreign place as I lay in bed.

Wandering around in the past and following people who are like ghosts in the present.

The should’ves, the would’ves, and the regret that stain our memory like a drop of red wine on white,

Chain us down from proceeding to the present.

We now weigh heavier than a ships anchor and we are stuck in the foreign place.

When shall we return home?

When will I ever be at my place?.......

X=X

Plagiarism is the root of human interaction.

Replicated actions by one person from another.

The logic so simple and happens naturally.

Monkey see, monkey do.

X=X

We are all an X in this map of the world,

But who is the treasure?

Is it I who can see this or is another person thinking as I am?

Are we all the same by nature?

The Formation of Something More

It’s like the wind. Invisible, but impactful.

It’s like the Universe.  Endless and interesting. 

The ripples that come from the droplets that hit the water that comes from the rain that come from above, is a parody of the formation of the feelings I have for you. 

It’s powerful and impossible to explain with one word.   

It may just be love to one person, but it’s what we make of it. 

It can be as invigorating as we desire it to be.