desire to inspire poetry slam scholarship 2020
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I do not know this new feeling
It's very strange to me
My heart is heavy at the thought
that we no longer be
I felt a sadness in my heart
I don't know what to do
You say everything is fine
Why so scared
little girl?
Is it the tinfoil
wrapped around your bones?
My footsteps
shaking your floor?
Life leaving your
neighbor's eyes?
Being torn from the soil
White walls, white floors, white lights galore
Time ticks by, while my eyes struggle to stay open
This is my prison, no bars nor matching uniforms
But uniformity is expected, and applauded
Waves
Slaughter themselves upon the shore
As the daybreaks with the ebb and flow
Rushing, crashing, breaking
They are the inevitable and continual
None can contain
None can recreate
Waves
6 pm on a saturday night
I stand at the open window in my second story bedroom
Listening to the bells that ring for 15 minutes every day
The wind blows into my messy hair
“Okay look I don't know why I'm even here”
“Just tell me what you are thinking,” the doctor says.
“What I’m thinking?”
“Just be honest with me. How do you feel?”
Life is mandatory consumption enabling me to grow
This passion within my soul
Determination at war with tribulation
Trials of transforming into a women
And times I wasn’t consoled
Desire to Inspire
What Inspires me they ask?
If you think long and hard about it, it makes it more of a task…
So, when I think of Inspiration and what it means to me
I was holding my breath for seven years.
Every time a hand slid onto my shivering shoulder -
Or on the top of my hello-kitty underwear
On Sunday morning, Linen candles burn
White wine and ocean breeze through open windows
Fruits of the freshest and crystal chandeliers turn
Silk clothing made for Gods
Doves sing a beautiful song
Dear C,
Your shadow lagged behind you, slumped.
Inadequacy had become your nickname.
You were afraid to walk with your head held high,
Amor, you're too soft for that.
Darling, don't you think that's too hard for you?
Tesoro, You're too lazy to study for it.
Is it my fault for these thoughts to become vocal?
Sitting and staring off into space
Wondering and thinking of a better place.
Wishing, hoping, dreaming too
Of a better place for me and you.
A perfect palace free of peril.
From the moment I wake up
To the time I lay down
My day goes about
Observing all around town
The people I pass
Your jagged curves never cease to amaze me,
How your ridges flow like strength across the earth
Inspiration has no particular source.
It appears in everything that surrounds us,
the little things that make us stop for a moment because
there it is again.
That feeling.
Inconsistent little bugger,
one night here the next elsewhere.
While I lock eyes with the North Star
I barely catch others there.
Innocent in flare, youthful in passion.
My brown skin.
Some would say it defines me,
But do not know what is within.
My melenated skin.
I believe that is not fair,
But what do others care ?
Here comes the sun they say
But do they really know the meaning?
Optimism should help us shine! HA!
Golden vibes, just stop intervening.
In this life, when reality threatens,
We search for an escape
As oblivion beckons.
But when we take a step away,
Lift up our heads and
Forget what people say,
in a Forest of
brick and
cement paved
streams
where people
weve through
the Trees
on Their way to
friends
work
lovers
there is a
Bench
Before I was even a thought in my mother's mind,
there were humans who graced the Earth.
Artists creating new pieces to be viewed.
Writers crafting each word, precisely.
The soft creak of a bed
And the give of a mattress—
A time and place where the day learned to die
And we are left alone
Our sanctuary, our haven,
America, what have you become?
America, where is your welcome?
You seduced mom and dad
You said you were not half bad
Ripped themselves apart for you,
gave up dreams they pursued
The flower never waits.
How optimistic is it that it never shakes with anxiety like humans do.
I watch every spring come and go. Each one is just as beautiful and inspiring as the last.