Archive for July, 2015

I’m constantly thinking about life, reflecting on life. I’ve never been the kind of person who has live its life and not wonder about how others are doing. I understand this an attribute that God has given me, and probably not given to any other. I shouldn’t force into people feelings they don’t understand, they can’t relate to, because it’s not in their personality. I don’t know if this makes me a better person than anyone. I just know it makes me different. So I wrote a poem think about it.

The Steadiness of all that’s Uncertain

A straight line should never draw into a curve
An honest answer should never turn into a riddle
A caressing hand should never close into a fist
Oh, the cracking sound of it as it breaks when you try to bend it around.
The stare in wonder as it falls in pieces into the ground.

I’ve been trying to teach the things that took me so long to understand
It turns into a repetitive thing that goes out of hand
Seeing the pieces of the puzzle all broken down as they’re swept away
I wish to stop the procedure but I always get caught in the web.
God bless the ones who are strong enough to just look at it and still walk away.

I have been swimming for way too long inside my head
Thinking about Nirvana, thinking about a fixed up world
Inside the waves of the objects I cannot fit together
They’re likes babies ripping stickers off of our memory albums
They just look at you with awkwardness for the things that for you has sentimental value.

This has become a battle where we all enjoy being in the participation
For those who hold their breathe the most or scream their lungs out
All the impossible things we are asking for the human condition in order to fill our expectation
To stay in the position that they were brought in and to never move out.
I pray that maybe someday in secret we will figure all of these things out.

om-symbol-sikhism

Sikhism

Giving blood just to stare at its quavering mouth slurping
Using flesh as bait, just to see its teetering teeth clinching in
You can sense all of the enmity just by listening
To the scraping noises echoing throughout the walls
In the obscure depths of the ghost filled hallways
At nightfall, when the moon bleeds, and the earth leans closer
The nocturnal beast wakes up from its slumber
All of the purpose conjectured comes asunder
Only to wonder what makes the muscles of this creature twitch.

I bet it feels like an itch that you just can’t get rid of
A curse casted by a necromancer or a virtuous mage
I don’t think we will ever find a true cause because
They were the ones who crafted the plot and set up the stage.

Behind iron bars cradles, the arms call out for their powder
The wound inflicted by daggers couldn’t determine their fall
To rise up the bars for those who craved enlightenment and power
But were not born with the mark and never received the call.

It’s the never ending hunger that makes a monster out of oneself
Like the rebuses of ancient spells held in flasks up in the shelf
One drop, one taste, any fool’s driven intensively, insatiably avid
As chains are broadened by muscles, the act is immensely vivid.

For the ones who are still lurking outside
There are four things you must keep in mind;
Do not feed the animal on display, locked in its cage
Do not stare at the prisoner in the eye, it’ll be enraged
Do not tease the beast with your treat, or you’ll distraught it
Whatever happens, do not confront it, or it’ll end in slaughter.

Natural instincts that ancient mysticism enforced attributes to
Whether this is a hoax to be proven false or a fact proved to be true…

I can’t help but feel awestricken just by the facts presently arrayed
Be overwhelmed by the cards I’ve been handed to but still haven’t laid
And thus the mystery lingers; can there be a hidden meaning under these sleeves?
Maybe an exemption from the enslavement of the five thieves?

Some people live only for the intention of hurting you. I find that completely insane and completely diabolical. I compare it with the obsession that Hitler had over the Jewish people. Although he was intelligent, his evilness made him act completely stupid. He didn’t pay enough for his atrocities. I know some people who are completely evil and this what this poem is about.

Evil Does What Evil Wants

Withdraw me from this pulsating situation
I’ve watched you pondering evilly over the corner
With the edge of my eye I captured the gathering
By the grace of my hearing caught up the murmuring.

Your secret signs are not written in codes
The collector of information knows it all
(You’re) Planning of tying me up in your ropes
Find a way for me to drop the ball.

Excuse me from your contemptuous vindication
This is one of your many drunken pointless schemes
In the core of my heart I wish for the beast to devour you
On the blood spilled from my hands I promise all this.

Your covert master is not rightfully divine
The collector of information lost this one
(You’re) Planning of holding me up as you dine
Find a way for me to be long gone.

Black Cauldron asshole don’t think you’re a Clairvoyant
I’ve spoken with the spirits and they all despise you
I’m the chosen one when the situation begs for it
I too made a pact with the darkness’ masters to assure this.

Evil does what evil wants
And this getting way out of hand
I left my book and left my magic stick
So y’all can suck on the devil’s dick.


Emotional Correlation

My eyes are set out waiting for them
Both my eyes are all set out waiting for them
But in the meantime the present disappears
She’s been here awhile waiting for me to see
Waiting for me to say hello
Waiting for me to accept her love
To accept her arms of comfort
When she says; ‘I’m here for you, love.”

I am…
Waiting to catch up with the past
While the present slips away
I’ve been…
Longing for the ones I’ve lost
Ignoring the ones that are present.

My heart is wide open and bleeding
Here my heart is wide open and bleeding
Begging for heavens to mend it somehow
By my side she says; “let me help you out”
And she waits for an answer
And she waits for a moment
Where I can open up my eyes
And see I’m not completely alone.

I am…
Trying to catch up with the distance
While the here slips further away
I’ve been…
Longing for the ones I miss
Missing out on the ones that are here for me.

My heart is divided in two
But how can I love one and not love the other?
One crafted from my heart
And one ready to mend it and fill it up again.

question bininal

Oversight

I don’t know what words to come up with
It feels like I’ve said it all before, so…
Would I shut up and withstand this shit?
There’s a fire that’s been burning long.

And though I tried to medicate it
It always burst outside its shell
And though I tried to hide it under
I always come asunder
And now again it feels like hell.

So who’s with me in all this struggle?
And who wants to run and leave?
Cause all it seems is that tomorrow
The steely axe will make its cleave.

I don’t know which way to run to now
It feels like I’ve been everywhere, so…
Would I give up and shove it all down?
There’s an itch that’s been bleeding through.

And though I tried to homicide it
It always comes back to life
And though I tried to make it silent
It always comes out violent
And now again I face the strife.

So who’s with me in all this struggle?
Who cares? Who doesn’t give a fuck?
Cause all it seems is that tomorrow
The scarlet knife will make its cut.

Gaps of happiness slipping under
And now I can’t help but wonder
Is there’s a reason why it won’t stop?
Will there be a time that I’ll be on top?

Cause nobody loves being the underdog
Nobody likes being the one rejected
With all the humiliation there to cope
I thought by now it would be perfected.

And though I tried to keep it under
I always come asunder
And now again it burns like hell.

So who’s with me in all this struggle?
And who’s running out to the door?
Cause all it seems is that by tomorrow
My patience won’t be able to handle it anymore.

Buenas Intensiones

Lo que quiero verbalizar, no creo puedas entender
Y tampoco quiero ser hostil al momento de pronunciarlo
Son de esos sentimientos que es algo difícil retener
Más sí, se encuentra en lo vital el tener que comunicarlo.

Si muerdo mi lengua es por no querer lastimarte
¿Pero hasta cuándo y cuánto tengo que darle riendas?
Porque aunque lo menos que quiere es herirte
No sé qué palabras usar para que aquí tu entiendas.

La piel es algo frágil cuando palabras taladran en el pecho
Y llegan hasta lo más profundo del musculo del corazón
Por no soportar más lo torcido, por querer verlo derecho
Uno pierde toda la paciencia, uno pierde hasta la razón.

Y como un maquiavélico plan contemplas el retirarte
Y esconderte en el silencio ilógico, que lleva al abandono
Algo que de alguna manera haga entender hacerte
Mas en lo muy adentro buscas causar dolor genuino ajeno.

Cuando no hay señal de cierto arrepentimiento
Aprietas más esas cadenas que a la otra persona ahorca
Y todo lo que antes exigiste por tales sentimientos
Ahora se ha convertido en una tenue enfermiza venganza.

Aquella primera persona se convierte en tercera
Como objeto que objetivamente observas corroerse
La humanidad que antes hubo, es ahora una fiera
Que fija su mirada a su presa, solo por verla perderse.

La extensión sobre esta discusión es lo que deseo evitar
La celebración sobre un nuevo perdón es lo que anhelo
Pero no encuentro forma alguna para podértelo explicar
No quiero que este enfrentamiento sea algún tipo de duelo.

Si hubiera una forma mágica para librar tanta tensión
Yo me refugiaría en la misma y no llevaría hasta ti esta carga
Si hubiera alguna forma en que pudiese tener tu atención
Habría comunicación que no acabase en una sensación amarga.

Las buenas intenciones nos han llevado hasta este péndulo
En donde disimular parece ser mejor que hablar claramente
Mas tíldeme de loco, tíldeme de estúpido, también de incrédulo
Pues no creo que esto ayude a poder entenderte, ni tampoco a amarte.

The Queen of Coercion

What is this feeling taking over me?
You cannot ever take that away from me
No need for medication when I feel love
No need for your hellfire when I have someone above.

Strip me from whatever makes me alive
No, I will not keep on with all your lies
You cannot make me abandon what’s killing me
Cause what’s killing me is making me stronger.

This is not the kind of death you were hoping for me
I hope in God that this hurts you too but even deeper
This is the kind and gentle pain of a man’s suffering
For the ones he has left behind to battle your nonsense.

What is this thing that I feel in me?
I cannot rip it from me, no I don’t want to
No need for stupid laws when I feel sorrow
For the ones I cannot be with today, or maybe tomorrow.

Strip me from whatever makes me happy
No, I will not keep abiding to your threatening
You cannot make me abandon what’s hurting me
Cause what’s hurting me is what I need to fight for.

This is not the kind of suffering you were expecting for me
I hope in God that this destroys in ways you cannot recuperate
This is the brutal and lethal pain of a father’s anguish
That prays to see his children again before he fades away.

I don’t need this anger
I don’t need this agony
All I need is my children
Give me back my children.

I don’t need your extortion
I don’t need your apathy
All you want is my money
Give back my children please!