Through tears and fire

 

Throughout life, you want to paint

this beautiful picture—

your goals,

the things you need to achieve.

It’s not about wants

when you become an adult.

Money should never be handed over

to pacify wrongdoings;

it should come from hard work.

A child’s first heartbreak

doesn’t come from a stranger—

it comes from their parents.

When a child does their hardest

to achieve things in life,

regardless of their parents’

drawn-out vision,

a heartstring shatters

big time.

It takes three to bear a child:

God, and two Earth beings—

a woman and a man.

It’s called thinking logically;

otherwise, more people

would not stand here today.

Hearts are adorable;

they absorb like sponges.

So never take someone’s heart for granted.

Learn to listen to it,

and never doubt a kind heart,

because in the end,

you will end up with nothing.

Learn to watch with your eyes

and listen with your ears,

rather than go off hearsay.

Because you never know

who is the one carrying the venom.

This pain hurts,

and I know many others can see it—

without even knowing me personally.

I’m pushing through

as hard as I can.

Being told you can do anything

you set your heart and mind to

should be the ticket

to ignite the fire.

Yet there are pine needles,

like venomous snakes

waiting to sever my dreams.

I can read your eyes like a storybook.

I will quickly draw back from you,

and that’s no fucking joke.

I become extremely tired

of dealing with my medical conditions,

wishing I could hang it the fuck up.

But this is reality,

written in a book.

Yet, I am working deeply within myself

to change what I can.

And through this,

I am focusing—

helping others.

Even though hearing “you can’t work”

leaves an excruciating pain,

this journey is extremely hard.

Some have been super supportive,

while I can’t say much about others—

they continue creating obstacles

to keep me stagnant.

I have moments where

I draw back,

keep to myself,

because some don’t want to hear my story

through these tears I’ve cried.

It’s not for sympathy.

Most people who lack knowledge

won’t understand.

I rely on my poetry

as my therapy.

Through words I release,

I find no judgment.

I can return—

without the pain

that birthed this art.

And so,

I will continue to write,

to share my emotions.

You think this poetry is about you?

Don’t you?

The Wave

Some people are so quick to grasp

what doesn’t belong to them.

Hands become like butter,

ready to spread across bread—

only on objects

that don’t belong to them.

They have their minds made up:

what they’ve read is about them.

Eyes glare like a hawk,

hearts beat rapidly.

They can’t understand

what the hell they’re reading.

Reading too soon

without the proper key to access

is a dangerous game.

So, you settle on

breaking and entering.

When voices speak louder than words,

and your eyes are easy to read—

here comes the wave.

Others can read you,

and it doesn’t take

a spiritual gift

to see through you.

It’s time to disconnect

from all the bullshit negativity,

and focus on brighter things in life.

Stop with the stares and glossy eyes,

because your whole face

begins to change completely.

You don’t take the time

to listen to others’ visions,

without understanding

there’s a roadblock in the way.

Try to understand them—

you might see that the roadblock

was something you created

without even knowing.

Yet, you put all the blame on them,

making their path

much more difficult.

Here comes the fire—

and no, it’s not the fire stick.

Or wait a minute—

you have it stuck so far up your ass

that maybe this is why

you can’t think clearly,

and your head is filled with negativity.

This storm isn’t sunshine and rainbows.

I’m still battling through something,

working toward my ultimate goal in life.

Yet these eyes see chaos

and cannot speak upon this bullshit.

Can individuals please grow the fuck up?

Louisiana may have had Hurricane Katrina.

But people who live and breathe negativity

need to wake up and look at life—

even the bullshit they’ve caused—

because this is the wave.

You can’t see your own shit

because you’re dipping and diving

into someone else’s.

Karma can be quite a bitch;

it comes at you

like a clogged-up toilet.

Oops—there goes a broken pipe.

You just can’t seem

to get away from this shit.

The more fire you cause,

the hotter it gets.

Don’t try to pay attention now,

when things were brewing

and words were spoken.

These eyes and ears don’t lie.

It’s time for you to put a stop to it—

now.

 This is the wave—

everything being called out,

with a twist.

Chaotic

 Have you ever sat under a tree just to think?

What would peace look like in a physical sense?

And how do you add it to your life

when everything—or everyone—seems to go crazy?

It's sad to say it,

but I'm going to share through these eyes,

because I can no longer take it.

For many years, my eyes have grown sharp.

I see jealousy at its finest—

manipulation, sinful acts—

beyond everything else.

Yet, I lay low and let my eyes read the room.

Because if I spoke out loud,

my words would shock you.

Matter of fact, denial would take center stage—

painted across everyone's face.

No one seems to listen,

or they pretend to understand what's going on.

In reality,

what’s been happening

comes from earthbound spirits—

not trapped ones,

not summoned by spiritual work.

Can we take ownership for what we’ve done?

Can we be bold enough to say it—

without pointing fingers?

Those who claim others have dipped and dabbled

in sinful work

have also had a taste of the blade.

Is it the pot calling the kettle black?

I'm going to be honest—

it’s overwhelming.

Mentally draining.

Like I could just grab the remote

and switch the channel.

But I can’t change the scene.

I can barely leave,

which is sad all on its own.

I see stories being created—

just to cover their asses.

I see and know the distractions

are done deliberately,

pulling people away

from doing something positive.

This is deep.

And I’m going back to Twilight.

Some days, I feel extremely angry,

and I can’t bring it out in the open.

Excuses seem to be the new thing these days—

like Bounty: the quicker picker-upper.

Let’s be real.

Let’s close the chapter on Hollywood.

Excuses are lies—

to save oneself,

or to save someone else.

Let them speak for themselves.

And even if they do—

let the cat bite his own tongue.

Can I please have Calgon come take me away—

with no strings attached?

I go back to my high school days—

what I call freedom.

Over the years,

anxiety has become an enemy.

Small spaces feel safer.

I know God sees everything.

No one can hide from Him.

He is working,

and handing out karma accordingly.

Those who do wrong

get the worst end of the stick.

But why would God do that?

Because Earth is the school of life.

And He is the teacher,

assistant principal,

and principal.

He fills every role in His school.

A woman of fire

 

There’s a heavy breeze, the distant wood crackling.

The sky is reddish-black; the stars barely shine.

Winds gather speed while the sun slips into dusk—

a humid gust snaps: Mother Earth has spoken again.

A woman of fire

She is forged from flame, descending gracefully from the heavens.

Arms outstretched, wrapped in reddish-orange embers,

she stands poised in a strapless gown—black and gold,

accented with crimson echoes of her birthright.

Her body hovers above the Earth, arms open in embrace;

blue-tinted eyes gaze downward toward Mother Earth.

Yet mind and soul ache, and she begins to see:

every whisper of wind, every snap of flame shapes an answer.

A sudden shift—wind thickens, steam ascends;

she gathers the warmth to her heart, yet the heart weeps.

A woman of fire

Eyes closed, she listens to the wind’s hush,

to sparks arcing across the darkening sky.

Is this her pain alone,

or does the sorrow of others entwine with her own?

She holds the hurt and tries to turn it into light,

but even fire sometimes needs help.

The wind falls silent; every ache feels personal.

Watching those who once spoke down to her,

she has grown strong, her tongue fierce.

Not everyone can endure her flames.

Some understand—her story is therapy.

Others judge, ready to defend themselves.

Her heart returns to the absence of her father,

a daily ache that longs to heal yet struggles.

Her flames rise in reverence: a guard, a shield.

She bows her head; tears fall—

with every offered tissue comes a hug.

A woman of fire

Gentle, sweet of soul,

she carries too much pain.

Never mistake her for foolish;

treat her with respect.

She is forged from fire,

descending from the heavens with a smile in her eyes.

Arms open, dressed in midnight black and molten gold,

aglow with the red of living flame.

A woman of the air

There’s a gentle breeze,

with the sound of the wind whispering.

The sun transitions from dawn to dusk.

Suddenly, a quick breeze brushes past—

Like a deep sigh has been released.

Trees sway in the direction the wind blows.

A woman of the air.

She stands with gentle movements

in the middle of the forest.

Her hands are pushed outwards,

casting away any demonic forces.

She wears a sleeveless halter,

a black and red laced midi dress

with a high-low pleated hem.

The wind begins to pick up speed.

Eyes closed,

she starts to visualize everything around her.

With each sound of the wind,

her answer begins to form.

Her hands shift

from outstretched to a heart gesture—

index fingers touching the base of the thumbs,

thumbs joined with middle and ring fingers,

pinkies extended straight.

After this quick hand transition,

she feels a sudden shift in the wind.

Her heart begins to generate heat.

These visions of love are coming together.

The dating scene had been quite painful.

Her heart—ripped right out of her chest.

The anxiety her heart has endured...

she doesn’t want to feel that pressure anymore.

Will her heart and soul connect her to the right guy?

Will this connection be forever bliss?

And if it comes from afar, how will they meet?

She feels her heart is prepared—

ready for the right guy

to treat her as a queen.

She never wants to endure

that brutal heart pain again.

Will heaven come knocking on her door,

sending her butterflies instead of a dozen roses?

A woman of the air.

She stands with gentle movements

in the middle of the forest.

Her hands transition

from a heart gesture

to prayer hands

as she begins to pray.

The wind listens

to every word

as it flows.

Father of the heavens,

You know what my heart needs and desires.

I come to you in this painful time.

I ask—if it is your will—

for a decent gentleman to come into my life.

In Jesus' name, Amen.

A woman of the air.

Her vision is coveted in her mind—

a missing piece that understands

The true meaning of loving someone.

She prays

that third time’s the charm,

because her heart was left with jagged edges.

Pain embedded deep within,

leaving holes in her heart

because she loved him deeply.

Her heart resembles Swiss cheese—

its beat thudding

as if outside her chest.

She places her hands over it,

streaming tears flowing

down her innocent face.

What has this heart done?

Trying to find the missing clue

to this question…

She stares blankly.

Her mind spins through

all the scenarios of this heartache.

She stands again,

gentle movements

in the middle of the forest.

Her hands shift once more

from heart to prayer.

With her eyes closed,

she begins to pray

while the wind listens

to every word.

Father of the heavens,

You know what my heart needs and desires.

I come to you in this painful time.

I ask—if it is your will—

for a decent gentleman to come into my life.

In Jesus' name, Amen.

A woman of the air.

The wind’s direction grows still

to hear her speak.

Father of the heavens,

You know what my heart needs and desires.

If it's in your will,

guide her heart and show her the answer.

Will her soul connect with the right man?

Will the connection be forever bliss?

If love comes from afar, how will they meet?

The wind blows abruptly.

Leaves sway and spin.

The answer is in stillness—

Her heart needs deep cleansing.

Her heart is still in silent pain,

still holding on.

The process is spiraling.

The wind grows still.

A voice draws close:

Patience, my dear.

The right guy will present himself to you.

Don’t worry about the distance—there is a way.

Love knows no distance. Through love, there is a way.

You speak through a broken heart,

and with a broken heart comes doubt.

You must love yourself more deeply.

You must pace yourself.

Never lean on just one feeling.

Never believe every storyline, like before.

If he is the right one,

His heart piece will fit snug with yours.

A woman of the air.

If he is right,

He will be everything she’s looking for—

because their souls will match.

Always remember:

Love sees no lines,

and true love

will find its way to you.

A woman of the ocean

It's a cool, yet warm breeze,

With the sound of the ocean moving.

Far out in the distance,

You can see the trees sway in the warm wind.

The crisp air flows through,

Causing the ocean to move gracefully.

It radiates beauty, reflecting seven colors:

Multiple shades of white — for innocence, charm, and purity;

Red — for romance and love;

Yellow — for joy;

Orange — for enthusiasm and energy;

Blue — for calmness and loyalty;

Pink — for gentleness and admiration.

A woman of the ocean.

She stands in complete stillness,

Close by the ocean, on warm sand.

She wears a flowing, strapless, sky-blue dress,

With touches of white to represent the clouds.

Absorbing nature silently,

Her eyes closed,

She begins to visualize the world around her.

Her hands are in the position of Tai Chi cloud hand,

Knees slightly bent, facing the ocean.

Suddenly, a quick, painful sigh escapes her

As she begins to perform Tai Chi.

With every vision in her mind,

Tears begin to fall—

And the ocean waves start to rise.

Her vision is a reflection of her past,

A hurtful one—

A life without her father.

She always longed for him.

These are tears of an absent childhood,

Raised by her mother, day in and day out.

These tears must stop.

She silently grows inside painful memories

Too heavy to speak of aloud.

Are these visions truly hers?

Is this her pain she is seeing and feeling?

A woman of the ocean.

Her vision is carved deep within her mind.

The pain of abandonment, of deadbeat fathers.

This pain pours from her soul,

As another sigh escapes.

Her words may stumble when she speaks,

Yet they are fluently written in motion.

One movement at a time,

She lets her pain flow with the water.

One movement at a time,

She lets it drift away with the wind.

She stands,

Facing the ocean,

Allowing all her pain to fade.

What once was dark red is now replaced with peace.

The water’s flow slows to a halt.

The wind’s direction stills.

The only movement—

A gentle flutter of her dress.

This is healing from Mother Earth.

A Woman in the field

It's quite breezy,

and the sun is shining bright—

as bright as it could ever be.

Yellow and white flowers,

some pass as sunflowers and lilies.

A woman in the field

dressed in an all-white strapless dress

stands completely still—

absorbing nature,

quietly beginning to visualize

the things happening around her.

These things are real,

and have been for some time.

What she sees isn't a lie,

not mere dust dancing in the wind.

She has spoken,

again and again,

yet nothing ever seems to change.

Her visions speak—

loud and clear

for all eyes to see,

yet eyes go blind.

It's frustrating.

These visions

are not fleeting spirits

whispering only to one.

They are loud,

they are present,

and they matter.

Frustration builds.

Feelings begin to turn inward—

But whose?

Another woman

stands in the background,

seen as a child her entire adulthood.

She has drawn back,

stays quiet at times,

though still present—

active in subtle ways.

She’s cut back on speaking,

leaning on humor,

laying low in silence,

letting the scene unfold.

This woman,

who has long been mistaken for a child,

calls out—

to the woman in the field—

to share her vision.

And then,

a realization.

The woman in the field

is herself.

Smile

 

Never be afraid to smile in front of a million people. Because the energy your smile brings is all that person may need.

A smile is free, and it shouldn't be used as a cover-up. It should come from a pure heart. If it takes you more than an hour to find it, that's not being authentic. 

Never speak with sinister eyes. Because your eyes are readable. Unspoken stories are told through them. So, if you hold onto pain, eye-to-eye can grasp that. So, never voice these words to someone who desperately needs you." Straighten up your face. Because their eyes are speaking words that are hard for their mouths to speak. 

Open up your heart.

Open up your mind.

Open up your door. 

And greet them with a warm embrace. This would put a smile on their face. 

Through the eyes of the poet

 

As they say, spring comes in like a lion and leaves out like a lamb. Imagine that this fits the image of a quiet person until boundaries are established, even when standing up to a bully, which digs deep into my skin. Like, a Mosquito to a Flea. Damn, bloodsuckers.
Venom is not sweet, and you certainly do not want it in your coffee or tea. So, why carry it on your tongue?
Mohammed Ali once said, "Float like a sting like a bee." His jabs certainly packed a punch. Imagine words flowing out just like that.
Some people just don't see things like that. Thinking logically in comparison with another. This is seen through the eyes of the poet, and perhaps words are easily expressed and deeply felt, similar to paint on a canvas.

The elegance of a woman

    Let us express our gratitude to our Almighty Father who dwells in heaven; may Your name be revered. Without Him, there would be no flesh or air filling our lungs, and there would be no mother to nurture us during our time in her womb. Our Father created a vessel capable of enduring the deepest pain imaginable: childbirth. He designed her in a variety of hues, each one shining brilliantly, like stars twinkling in the night sky. It is through our Father who resides in heaven that the memories of the stars are shared among her children, akin to the twinkle in the night sky.

The true beauty of a woman is found not in the challenges she faces, but in the grace and dignity with which she carries herself, reflecting inner confidence, a positive attitude, eloquent communication, intellectual curiosity, and respect for boundaries.

Love is a chain reaction

This heart is never empty; love is continuously pouring in. Never take someone's love for granted, not even your own. Show what it means to be loved and to receive love. Love doesn't always mean romance. If you can draw an abstract painting of what love is, give that person the best expression because that same image is the same image you want to receive in return, not only for yourself. But you want to pour that same amount back into someone else's heart.
Love is a chain reaction, so paint this world with your beautiful hearts to drown out all the darkness we have all seen. And make this world what it should be rather than the hatred and bigotry. 

  Music credit: 

Track Tribe: Guess I'll never know

Heart's Confession

    Are you here on Earth, my angel? And when we both hug, will it feel like we're both in paradise? I'm out here searching for my soul connection, a person who truly can understand me for me and accept everything about the person who I am.

Get to know my true nature on the inside. The exterior is only a cover, so appreciate what you see on the inside. We'll never make judgments based on that.

If we both hit a rock on this road, we'll be there for each other and guide each other through that rough time. We may not see eye to eye on everything, and that is okay. What matters first and foremost is the friendship bond that we must build before anything else.

If our hearts and minds lead us to express those deep feelings, say what you feel, and don't ever hold it in. Know that it will bring our friendship even closer. And even if the time isn't right, continue to hang in there for one another because you and I have already spoken our heart's confessions.

Let's D.A.N.C.E

     

    Let's take our minds in the direction of Alice and Wonderland. There is no magical pill to swallow; just simply close your eyes and imagine you are in a whimsical place built for dancing. Do you see the White Rabbit, the Mad Hatter, or even Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Let's not forget the Cheshire cat, just to name a few. Grab their hands or paws and bring them along. And by the way, you are Alice in your imagination. Alice can be whomever or whatever you want. So, let's explore what it means to dance.

Dream
Achieve
Navigate
Center
Entertain

We all have the rhyme and the movement to be able to express how dance looks and feels to us. So, what does it look and feel like to you? Put together your own experiment and get into it.

Seeing through shadows

The grass on the opposite side isn't always greener; sometimes it looks like weeks' worth of dog sh!t.   

Thought I was keeping my emotions to myself, but both yours and mine were found out. We discovered that we shared sentiments, and I debated whether to express them or keep them to myself.

I felt in my heart that as we talked more, we would come to know one another. Of all, you cannot get to know someone with just one chat. 
 

I'm not going to sugarcoat this event because you want me to keep it secret; it's genuine. You and I have both disclosed some information. After a year, it has unexpectedly ended, as we have been waiting anxiously to meet with each other to make things official.

Your impatience and persistent insistence that we meet together with each other were the main causes. Yes, we share the same anxiety. You are aware of my condition, and even if you weren't, I have made my living status known to you. But, you remain persistent.

As I maintain respect throughout our relationship, this is the calm before the storm.

 Our last laugh with non-relative friends was the night before church. I'm repeating what was stated in this case to make sure I understood what was said. I did until I got the message the day after worship on Sunday.

We resolved the issue, and you assert that you comprehended what I said. Because I was not available to answer your call when you called, the storm struck suddenly.

You've been waiting for things to happen on your schedule for the entire time, paying no attention to me or what I needed to get done for myself.  Until we learn more about one another, we ought to be best friends, you leave me with. I wasn't paying attention or wasn't aware that you were flashing a warning sign in my direction the entire time.
 I was able to maintain my composure while speaking with you because I am sensitive to energy both close and far. I surely told you about it as soon as I sensed it was about to happen. We ended up having a typical talk, or so I thought. Don't tell your pals about this. Through the computer, you can still talk on the phone and have video chats.

I don't mind having buddies. But I felt really uncomfortable hearing your voice, not speaking, and hearing what other people were saying about me. I was faithful throughout our whole relationship—or so-called relationship—holding back my emotions until I finally let them gently flow out.  I won't keep quiet, and I'm hoping that by doing so, others will learn never to fall prey to manipulation. What I have learned will be a very important lesson. There is someone out there who will treat me with respect and kindness. Value your partner's time as well as your own if you want them to value yours. And be honest with yourself about what you know and don't know.

Daily reminder

 As you lay down to rest, say goodbye to the things that worry you. Don't bring them with you to slumber. Wake up in peace to start a brand new day. As you rise as the sun rises, don't forget to laugh. Your laughter is your soul's caffeine to rinse out any unwanted mood you are feeling. If you need an extra spark, laugh harder than the first. Keep this going until that unwanted mood disappears. May your day be bright and your night be restful.

Graffiti Heart

You have broken my heart as you have tried to sweep it underneath the rug. Hoping that I may have forgotten what you have done to me. It was your kind heart that pulled me in. Now, this heart is left with a permanent scar, still trying to make it without you. This pill is too hard to swallow as tears begin to fall wishing that this never happened at all. I want to love you like there is no tomorrow. While my heart keeps on bleeding in love over you. This feeling is like a dagger straight through the heart, even though rumors have it; that you were loving someone else. This heart of mine can not deal with this heartache. As your looking for my sign of remorse, this heart is in a bit of denial if it's true. This is hurting me deep within my soul, trying not to believe everything that I am told. There goes my heart that I have laid out on the table. Tears that I have cried filled with dignity due to pain. No, I can not bear this broken heart, you put upon me. I am losing bits and pieces of myself while hiding behind a shelf carrying out all this pain. A journey of a heartbroken girl. 

As I look

 

As I look at the feature ahead of me, I see an abundance of happiness staring in front of me. Leaving behind broken hearts with tears in them.

As I look at the feature ahead of me, I see an abundance of laughter, just waiting for me. Opening up my heart as it begins to fulfill my soul.

As I look at the feature ahead of me, no signs of negativity will be visible to me, not even an ounce of me.

As I look at the feature ahead of me, I begin to see loose chains as a sign of relief.

As I look at the feature ahead of me, I give praise to the Lord for reconnecting me to my other family.

As I look at the feature ahead of me, I feel an abundance of warmth within my heart and soul.

Straight from the heart

Kill this numbness in my heart. I want to be able to say I love you like all little girls love their father.
You show no signs of affection, nor any indications that you truly care about me. I'm tired of shedding tears of the heart because you are not here! 

I can't cross that invisible line. I can't see. Growing up with just one parent hurts. I can never express how much pain I feel knowing that my father never took the time to get to know me. Even to this day, hearing lies after lies Not even a simple, "Hi, how are you?" Every day is ripping at my heart and soul. I just want to break down and cry.

I can go into the memory of writing to you, waiting so patiently for your reply. I can only recall one letter out of all those times. This letter is still with me today. There were plenty of times when I chose to give up on finding you. Just so I can have you as my father in my life, no matter how old I get, I will always want you in my life. This heart is broken into many pieces. I don't understand how much love I have around me. that my heart was able to stay together. But there is just one piece that just lays there waiting for you to piece it together.

It hurts that you make up excuses for why you can't pick up the phone or even e-mail me back. I'm sitting here playing the waiting game. A game a daughter shouldn't ever play. It's like you're mad at me for what has occurred. This incident should never have happened, but since it did, I can still live my life. Live my life with constant reminders: pop a pill in my mouth every day. 

Father - Daughter

 

I’m sick of separation. I want to have that father-daughter bond. But, I’m holding onto memories I just can’t let go of. As they say, the harder they fall, the harder they break, and that is how my heart feels, not knowing who the other half of me is. I want to mend this broken part of mine because growing up without you here twenty-four seven and three hundred and sixty-five days of the year simply breaks my heart. All I get to hear is the sound of your voice. It only gives me a feeling I cannot describe.
One day, I just want to pick up the phone and say "hey Dad." I know that day will come. I just need to take a few steps at a time. Much as silence kills a person, I know it hurts you more knowing your oldest daughter, remains silent when you are around, while nothing can ever replace the past. I just want to build a father-daughter relationship. It just needs to take a few steps at a time. I know that bond will happen, slowly but surely, it will grow through time! Just take it a few steps at a time.

Ice Cream Adventure

There are so many flavors to choose from when it comes to ice cream.

There is vanilla, chocolate, and even Napoleon. That is why there are so many other flavors to explore. But, I have just the right flavor that is just right for me. Chocolate mint ice cream is so-so yummy. Give me some more, please, with or without the cherry on top, please. And may I just add the double whipped cream with sprinkles and more chocolate chips, please?


This poem was written for a contest I had entered, and I'm one of the winners.