• 28Jul 09

  She left me at the dance-The poem

  I have been working on my poem lately, and I thought I'd post one of the poems I have been working on lately. It's based on a true life story(Ah, don't writers always write about their lives?). Well, this poem is about a girl(Yup, about 70% of my poetry is about a girl). Anyway, I'm still working on it and editing it. Here is it

  She left me...
  at the dance
  Long
  wavy
  hair
  swaying as
  she moved
  with such grace
  And those small eyes,
  appeared to me
  as she danced
  to the beat
  of popular sound
  
  Walked up
  said "Hello"
  filled with emotions
  (Unspoken tensions
  unknown to her,
  but hands shaking)
  as my attraction
  went on
  
  Then....Then...
  The doorbell rang
  This strange figure,
  (He knew
  my intent,
  then walked away)
  yelling loudly,
  "Rebecca!
  "Rebecca!"
  Oh! It was her!.
  Taken from my space,
  into the night
  as the
  dance closed
  with a tear
  from my lid.

  • Posted Jul 28, 2009 7:37 pm PT
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• 18Jun 09

  Achievement-My personal corner

  Today, I want to discuss "achievement". I accomplished something this year. I graduated from Rutgers University with a B.A. I am proud of myself of doing this since I had to be "like my own hero" during my college career. I had to go to the study groups for mathematics and the physical sciences. I befriended some people along the way when I was taking courses to complete a minor in musical theatre. I worked as a stage crew member this year for a play, and I befriended a "nice" dark-haired guy who was one of the actors in the show. Yup, there was some flirting behind the curtains(but that's a different story).

  Maybe it's because I have studied philosophy or watch too many fantasy shows, but achievement, to me, is not monetary. It's something inside of you where you feel good about yourself. Last year, I was requested to paint someone'e house(I did get some payment for lunch and for travel costs), but it was more about painting the house that got to me. It was like I was putting my own signature on that person's house because I did the work, and I only can control my own hands and arms. I walk by that house every day while coming home, and I think to myself, "I did that. That house is in my own history book because I put a signature of my own style on that house". I took photos of the house that I painted while I was painting the house and showed them to my parent. I wanted to frame it since it was my own achievement.

  Maybe your own presence is an achievemnt. After all , none of us were aborted so that's an achievement right there. But what else? Your own presence can influence another person as well. I remember when I was seventeen, and I saw this girl at the corner. I knew she wasn't there for anyting good. I walked up to her and asked her what she was doing at the corner. She was there waiting for a drug deal to happen. I told her that wasn't a good idea and walked her to her house later that evening. If I wasn't there, would she have achieved the courage to walk away from a pending drug deal? In one sense, she achieved courage that night from my presence.

  Achievement can only come from being. Your being and conscience is what controls you. No higher power in religions has told its followers, from my own knowledge, that they have strings which control their every move. No other being could have moved that paint brush except me and I put my own signature on that house. Achievement is neutral. Achievement can be seen in different light and alignments. Achievement is also perspective. What is achievement to you?

  I will later continue this discussion later on in the month as I have more thing to think about it. I will probably think about writing a poem about this on my next blog entry as well.

  • Posted Jun 18, 2009 4:06 pm PT
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• 12Oct 08

  New Poems-The Anti-Hero & La Historia

  I have been thinking lately about fiction and mythology. From the Adam and Eve story to the Pandora's box story, this poem reflects this. I hope you enjoy it.

  The Anti-Hero

  And now

  you look

  at that book,

  memory glass

  filled to

  the top,

  mixed package,

  Pandora surely knew

  the dangers

  of adventure,

  lessons taught

  records, records'

  reflections of

  hidden truth

  And now the second poem,

  La Historia
  
  Blue-eyed
  light skin
  to burnt
  (sweat drop lingers-
  tells the truth)
  Battered shirts,
  Hangin' over,
  forced salutes
  to mighty men
  givin' voices
  of
  clouded crowds
  (Voice overs
  silent prayer,
  don't you know,
  silent prayers
  deep in books)
  A bible,
  for its people
  Historia, oh,
  she is not
  the end.
  Oh Her story!
  Needs to
  be told.
  A force
  to continue
  until....
  last pen....
  dies.

  • Posted Oct 12, 2008 9:12 pm PT
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