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alexander-velazquez
alexander-velazquez
I am an avante-garde philosopher, poet, writer and social avtivist.
She traipses softly through the lavender fields. Her Love walks gently across the meadows . Her body flows gracefully and to no one yields. Her voice pours softly from her lips and settles; Settles on the chords that bind our hearts together- Evening and morning have carried our heart, From secrets of passion and moments apart. As the night sky our blanket, from mornings bright glories. We listened to warblers Whistle beautifully our stories- We hid under darkness and played under stars. We kissed under Orion, Made love under mars. Yet when morning came, And the nights vices had fled; There you stood standing, Adorned from your head- Head to your toes was the light that had blessed you. To your face it caressed, as proudly I knew. It accented your curves and danced with your eyes: The eyes light had danced with, would not let night die- For although daylight had ended, our stage of freedom and grace; In those eyes the echo of all that had happened, Forever will sing a glad song in this place.
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 6:46 AM UTC
A Poem for my Lover
In the mirror I see it: Skin over a multitude of experiences, A face over a myriad of events. Eyes like windows: Their panes holding pain Their shades casting shade Their frames framing, Framing the limits I can see. Limiting my periphery I’m blinded. Blinded by the frames and the curtains. I draw back. Draw back the velvet cloths that fold Like ripples in a calm stream. I draw back. Back from the mirror.
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
The Looking-Glass Self of "The Collectives"
Stanza 1: The earth is spinning And we are soaring Violently tearing Trembling. Galaxies spiraling, Particles barreling, All toward collision. The mysterious, our universe flaunts daily arresting Chorus 1: Stare at the clouds and find solace. Stare at the stars and find grace. Stanza 2: Travel back in time under the blanket: The cosmos The Lions and Bears, The serpents of old, Our blanket Covered our parents, And covers us now. Imagine. Imagine a time when lights lit the sky. Watch closely. The earth was our stage To watch and be watched. We’re moving. Chorus 2: We traveled in random courses. Courses which carried our platform. Stanza 3: Picture the story Drove them to glory, The power. Imagine a time where narratives climb, where stories are shared by people; Where collectives thrive And people do feel The stories. The glories are theirs The memories are their passion. Chorus 3: Tales of bravery. Tales of treachery. Tales of liberty. Stanza 4: Step back, imagine A desolate world. No life here. All that we heard was The crashing of waves Far away. Explosions up above Rolling in the clouds Further still. God may have formed it. Gods may have born it. Pantheons Myriads Chorus 4: But mystery still calls: There could have been nothing. Stanza 5: The resonating, Reverberating, Question captivates, “Who the hell am I?” The sky and the land The oceans and sand, The plains, the Tundra Command us. The birds and the herd The fish and the crab The cattle, the beast Command us! “Be silent Be still- Be quiet And feel- Embrace mystery."
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
Embrace Mystery
Stanza 1: The earth is spinning And we are soaring Violently tearing Trembling. Galaxies spiraling, Particles barreling, All toward collision. The mysterious, our universe flaunts daily arresting Chorus 1: Stare at the clouds and find solace. Stare at the stars and find grace. Stanza 2: Travel back in time under the blanket: The cosmos The Lions and Bears, The serpents of old, Our blanket Covered our parents, And covers us now. Imagine. Imagine a time when lights lit the sky. Watch closely. The earth was our stage To watch and be watched. We’re moving. Chorus 2: We traveled in random courses. Courses which carried our platform. Stanza 3: Picture the story Drove them to glory, The power. Imagine a time where narratives climb, where stories are shared by people; Where collectives thrive And people do feel The stories. The glories are theirs The memories are their passion. Chorus 3: Tales of bravery. Tales of treachery. Tales of liberty. Stanza 4: Step back, imagine A desolate world. No life here. All that we heard was The crashing of waves Far away. Explosions up above Rolling in the clouds Further still. God may have formed it. Gods may have born it. Pantheons Myriads Chorus 4: But mystery still calls: There could have been nothing. Stanza 5: The resonating, Reverberating, Question captivates, “Who the hell am I?” The sky and the land The oceans and sand, The plains, the Tundra Command us. The birds and the herd The fish and the crab The cattle, the beast Command us! “Be silent Be still- Be quiet And feel- Embrace mystery."
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An island cast in the distance, teases. Her soft lips of shores on lakes are perched. Her curves of land and earth stay heavily on the ocean bed. The waves of hair flowing as in a pool when a woman puts her head back. You know! right before that moment when she begins her ascent and all the cosmos is eagerly frozen in expectation. That beautiful hair cries for my fingers. She is beautiful. But I miss it. She doesn't need me But I pretend like she does. You might say we're dancing.
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
The Island in Assunpink Lake