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Tadeusz Loarca Mar 2021
Shall I compare thee to a summers day?
Thou art much thiccer than humidity
an in the times that clouds turn gray
your wrath will worse than any deity
I may love your warmth
and your soft white skin
but I could love you more
If I found myself within
There will be a time
when the red river will flow
when tensions rise
and anger will grow
It is in these times that I will saw, nail and cut
to finally build you, that ****** menstrual hut
Tadeusz Loarca Jan 2021
Boil, boil, toil and trouble
Yeast ferment, airlock bubble
Honey sugars turn to wine
A bouquet of flavors that taste divine
The raisins help give the yeast it’s power
While we wait hour by hour
The oldest alcohol known to man
So we drink it while we can

We brew the honey we brew the yeast
The concoction becomes a mighty beast
We brew it slow to make it strong
The process goes on for very long

You can add some fruit to give it flavor
Or some herbs given by the neighbor
Caramelize the honey to make a brochette
That will surely brighten your day

Add more honey to make it more sweet
Or add some tannins and serve with meat
Weather you have it outside or you decide to stay in
Make sure to take your metheglin
A fun poem that I made about making mead in the spirit of the old instructional type of poetry
Tadeusz Loarca Jan 2021
If life is about pain
Then why do we do so many things to avoid it
If life is about growth
Then why are we so lazy
If life is about God
Then why did I lose my faith
If life is about science
Then why doesn't anything make sense

Life is meaningless
That is a phrase easier said than believed
Because everyone makes meaning to their own life
And if you cannot find meaning then why don’t you just jump off a cliff?
Why don’t I?

I don’t because even though life is a pain
Dying is also a pain
A pain to those I leave behind
A pain that I wouldn’t even be able to help with
A pain that is only avoided if I keep living even though I don’t want to

So I have decided to do things
To help people
Because if I don’t feel happy with myself at least I can help others

But i am still lazy
And I end up being a pain to others
I am a burden to others
And it would be easier for everyone if I just brought myself to a cliff and let go

But that would only cause them more burden
It would only cause more burden than I already am
Tadeusz Loarca Jan 2021
I am "One o I am "One of the good ones"
I keep my nose clean I study in school
I stay away from the "Others"

I am "One of the good ones"
I go to bed on time I go to my job
I am not "One of the ones on welfare"

I am "One of the good ones"
I watch sports
I was born in America
I don't go near any of the "Thugs"

I am "One of the good ones"
I only speak English
I never listen to "Ghetto music"
I try not to offend anyone who is white

I am "One of the good ones"
At least that is what I try to be
A short poem written  about my perspective on how it feels to try to fit in with a subliminally raciest America
Tadeusz Loarca Jan 2021
A Poetic Apology
Because doing this is easier than making up for the mistakes I made

To whomever it may concern,
I wish to grant my deepest apology for whatever it may be that you think I may have done
Although I will deny that I did it
And if i did do it
Than I had done it for a good reason
Please know that I will halfheartedly take any responsibility
This way I only have to feel half as guilty

I will try my best to make up a long list of things that I will try to change about myself
Even though I will not actually try to do them
But, if you ever bring this up to me I will remind you that these things take time

I will be trying to work on myself
As I do nothing at all
And I will be trying to improve my relationships
As I deny any wrongdoing
Watch as I fix my flaws
Without doing any self reflection

For those who do not accept my apology
I will be calling you heartless cowards
I will rake your name though the muck
I will burn down the house that we had made together
And I will be seen as the victim of this narrative

Gas lights can make for an excellent way to uncover the truth though the darkness
But, they are only effective when the right person is handling the torch
This poem is supposed to be a parody of my younger self when I thought that apologies are all it takes for forgiveness after doing something wrong.
Tadeusz Loarca Dec 2020
A fall is only as bad as you make it
A doorstep is not as deadly as a canyon
But I would like for you to tell that
To the shattered vase

The jagged edges of the broken glass
Shimer and shine like blood on protruding bones

While cleaning it up I feel a sudden pain
I inspect the injury
A small cut has appeared on my hand
Red liquid pools in the palm of my hand
A chuckle emerges from my chest
"In my clumsiness and neglect I have not only hurt another, but also myself.
"I will let you have your revenge because I do not blame you for being spiteful."

I pick up the pieces and inspect the translucent stones
"I could buy glue, pick up every piece, spend hours recreating this masterpiece."
"No, I am no craftsman. I am no glasssmith."
"This vase is broken."
The smell of sweat and iron reminds me of the damage that I brought on myself

My body has already started the process of repair
The blood has hardened to cover the wound
I try not to think about it
"It will sort itself out." I think to myself

I head out a second time to transport the vase
Pain in my hand refuses to subside

I ignore it

Within a few steps the glass once again falls
My hand throbs with sharp uncontrollable pain

The palm of my hand rotten and greened
Much worse than it had seemed
I look for a glove to cover the mess
But the problem won't end untill it's addressed
As I look for the glove the rot continues to grow
But if I only find the glove no one will know
Before i know it i am consumed
In much less time then I presumed

My eyes open to a blinding white room
Surrounded by faces of people  I know
Disappointed but worried
I had not done what was right
I had not asked for help
I had not even taken care of the injury
These people all care about me
I had let them all down
I will need to try again to move the vase
But this time I know
I will need help without my right hand
A poem about the guilt I feel about college
Tadeusz Loarca Feb 2017
What a cheerful day to decay
Remember to let the devil have his say
Move like a shadow down a empty hall
But don't cast yourself upon the wall
Stay your ground, while moving on
I'll stay with you while I am gone
I have forgotten your face but remember your smile
But I shall forget that too
just give me a while
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