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Showing posts from May, 2015

A Short Poem : Dreamer

For how long have I dreamed a dream I have heard of men, who spent their life dreaming a dream for how long will I live in the future afraid of breathing the stale air in the present the air smells and I, cannot accept that which labels me as a peasant afraid of claiming this life as my portion my real life exists somewhere near, in the future it smells like apricot and  freshly cut grass in a field of white roses, where pink pelicans fly so I put my face and my back into my work As I toil to do the very things I hate, as a necessary way of achieving that which I love The days pass and I fail to grasp the essence of life. My youth withers away as I toil on this barren land. But I do not notice, because I have my sights set on Utopia. with every step taken, utopia turns dystopia I have had priests filling my ears with the speech that they preach proclaiming the dream that I dreamed is out of reach, because of the sins that I've sinned I suffer fr...

That Jazz

       You remember the first time you heard that jazz. That obnoxious boy with the big pimple on his nose was playing it repeatedly at the night class you always go to, usually for solace and quiet. Nobody could tell him to stop, everybody minded their own business and that jazz started to creep up on you like a thief in the night.      You leave the class in annoyance in the middle of the night because that jazz snatched your peace and quiet, your golden opportunity to study for that test you have tomorrow but you find yourself humming that jazz. You find yourself craving to hear it once more because if you do not, you would never find peace. You brain convinces your legs to walk back to the class and ask that obnoxious boy with the big pimple on his nose to send you that jazz. You notice the way he lights up when you expressed interest in that jazz, like you understood something only he could understand. That jazz was speaking, and only bo...