Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
881 · Oct 2018
What am I?
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
I am the consumer of a thousand worlds
And the mother of a thousand others
I have killed mothers, sons, fathers
Left whole nation's in Ash
I am the future, I am the past
You can never have enough
I am keeper of Crips.
Eater of bone
I'm the one who carves the mountain eyes
And burns the sky's
And overturns every lie
I'm the child's playground
Pure creative and
Of mass destruction
And when the ones who challenge say
I am alive I will survive
I have the power I have the hand
It is my hour at my feet you stand
for I am man I AM MAN
I gently whisper in their ear
Look behind
What you'll find
Can't keep me off your mind
For I have nature as my servant
Foe I flow the never ending serpent
But I have no need to remind
Of what I am, for I am TIME.
I have always loved riddles and a riddle I read, as a kid, about time has always stuck in my mind. This is my reinterpretation of that riddle. Isn't it interesting how we get our inspiration from all the ideas around us. And then we build on those ideas and grow and change them. And over TIME(haha) ideas become completely new and different things.
817 · Oct 2018
One winter day
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Silver shining clouds blue,
squeezing tears out of,
choking twisting melting,
screaming skies.
colors deepen to mock me,
here eyes are ice cold blue,
I remember is was cold,
December my heart still,
a burning ember,
New friendship washing over,
tight and tense<
Like spring,
we walk over a bridge,
Its hate full and wants,
to go back to being dirt.
Should every poem flow? Should every poem rhyme? Or is it a enough that the poet conveys those illusive feelings that cant be put into words we call poetry?
807 · Nov 2018
Flag born
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
A damaged broken flag is fluttering in the wind
It clings lichen like to wood melted by time
You can not not see it tear and rip
As entropy begins to take its pleasures
And rain soaks and mold consumes
Still the flag bravely flutters flapping
The flag has long been sun bleached white
As though to say it has surrendered
But you can see it's tenacity
A white dove soars above tenderly
The flag fights on against the wind
It's mighty reaching as though to say:
I long to soar above this sorry world
And through will and destiny ever so rarely align
A great Storm rolls down the mountain
The flag cries out in full mast, full form
It's wooden anchor holding fast
But the the wood gives a gentle sigh and groan
“Old friend I can fight no more. Let me rest and you have you day of flight.”
And with a cracking moan, the old wood bid the flag goodnight
And then that single white flag did fly
As the Storm broke upon the sky
And sunlight rays pierced through
Turning, up world ravaged lands so blue
And then the birds all took flight.
And the flag flew proud
Though rip battered rotten and torn
The flag was see by all with the message to which it was born
“We can all be free if we really fight and endure, However briefly that is.”
What do you think the metaphorical symbolism of flags is?
Imanuel Baca Jul 2019
You may look like a piece of paper.
Fengxiang
I want to start over

You like to talk on paper
Like a card house
One of the internal storage

It seems that you are getting deeper and deeper
Six foot challenge
But no one heard

Do you know how late are you?
"The people around you know

You have to turn off the lights
It will be fine
This is night after night.
According to July 4th

'No children are your employer
Come and show what you really need.
Let them go, "Oh, wow, hey!"
You shoot the air

The child has a fire for you
They come to pay the money
Let them go, "Oh, wow, hey!"
You give up on them.

Like a sling
You are the source, indispensable
If you know what will happen
After cold creep

Maybe all the doors are closed.
It can be unlocked
Beat your heart like a donkey
If you know, as time goes by

You have to turn off the lights
It will be fine
This is night after night.
According to July 4th

'No children are your employer
Come and show what you really need.
Let them go, "Oh, wow, hey!"
You shoot the air

The child has a fire for you
They come to pay the money
Let them go, "Oh, wow, hey!"
You give up on them.

Cheek tree
Better than the month, month, month
It is always by your side, you, you.
It's time to release it.

'No children are your employer
Come and show what you really need.
Let them go, "Oh, wow, hey!"
You shoot the air

The child has a fire for you
They come to pay the money
Let them go, "Oh, wow, hey!"
You give up on them.
Cheek tree
Better than the month, month, month
Cheek tree
Better than the month, month, month
So I ran Katty Perrys song through Google translate and  a few different languages. It ended up pretty interesting and in my opinion a lot more poetic than the original so i am posting it here.
529 · Nov 2018
Metal
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
Metals touches skin and presses closer once upon a time.
Rocks upon rocks upon golden locks
Suddenly the colors of my life becomes supersaturated
Ticks upon ticks upon tocks of the clock.
I am losing sleep, and pressing up to metal
Like atlas I take the weight of the world up on my shoulders
I feel my heat compress as I breath the stress
The more I dream the more my belief is less
I feel relief at last as I leave my past  
They are aghast but I only laugh
Why would I keep these chains made for demon brains?
When I am living dreams and dreaming pains?
Or growing pains driving me insane.
If only there was some other way I could explain.
If only there was some other way I could explain.
If only there was some other way I could explain.
493 · Oct 2018
Hello.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
I saw you watching me
Without even really know why
I was drawn to something
That was real and beautiful
Something powerfully within
A thousand colors marked your soul
thousand others to make you whole
You struck out your truth into the void
Filled meaning in a place empty
Meaning, snare and bait, it sent me
Before I only saw you as a person
Now I see the person that you are
A sparkle in your eye behind a star
Vast pain of one who touched the sun
Felt love's kiss's true burn
From loves wish's did you learn
Of one who reached within
And found what had always been
To see such truth I was unprepared
Not to lie, of you I was scared
But even more so I was ready
Without truth my heart made heavy
You shot my hull and broke my mask
You sunk my ship, sunken at last
To think so much lied behind
Though human, wonder did I find
And all I had to do was ask.
Truth, for truth's sake at last.
Have you ever met some one that made you realize there is so much more to being a person. Have you ever met someone that showed you who they really are? Have you ever opened your eyes and heart to see someone for who they really where and notice them? If you haven't then would you try it?
489 · Nov 2018
A lovers poem.
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
Seductive sequential sentences falling into place.
You change, shadow surfaces shifting your face.
Love hit moonbeams in a acid dream, mine or yours?
We were in the same dream together impossibly.
Yet somehow it had to be, you laughing gladly.
Embracing me, and making me lose all my saved sleep.
A million possibilities grew from a single seed.
I thought alone we were always meant to be,
Until you pierced my bubble, and mine yours, then I lost my memory.
In your lovely symphonies, I was forgetting who was me and who was you. And which was where and where was which.
Lost in each other's minds we made a switch. My heart for yours, traded through our lips.
Love is one of those things you can always come back to. Beacuse with love you can't help but be endless confused and enthralled by it. At the same time nothing will hurt you more than your love. I guess all poets hearts bleed the same color don't they?
474 · Mar 2019
What freedom feels like.
Imanuel Baca Mar 2019
I run my hands up down my arms
Cobble stone cold paths to concrete
To old dirt roads through smooth Aspen bark
The rough scars of lighting with French kissed forking tongues
The ocean washes in and out my breath
A warm breeze from down the mountains.
I close my eyes as creeks gurgle out  
Snaking past jagged rockaways
little paint brush strokes of every painters color
Spring love laced flower goosebumps follow.
My hands spreading out 80 years old strong oak growth.
This sun bears down on the forests of my mind.
The Sandy plains that stretch out to beaches beyond my toes.
From a forgotten path where no one goes.
My hair, my grassy plains.
I remember my origin.  
Run away now. Run back to the woods.
Go out side and see nature. It's the most beautiful work of art and it's near infinite. Billions of years in the making it's not quite finished. But they say don't rush a master piece.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
I climbed over the garden wall
Into the rich court and down the hall
Before I lived in poverty
Know I see how to live properly
By taking others property
And now there is nothing stopping me
See I told the rich
That humble and poor, was good!
And bad was having more than you should.
I laughed myself into a stitch.
And they left their house so quick!  
Did I learn lies are the best teacher?
Or never trust a preacher?
Either way, I showed them all
Because I climbed over the garden wall
Morality is pretty tricky. It seems like we constantly redefine it based on all kinds of arbitrary things and yet we are always expected to up hold the highest moral value. How I am suppose to know what is right and wrong much less be a good person. Then again I am a writer so I must be a sociopath!
407 · Oct 2018
A kiss
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
How could she be so pail
I take timid steps and breaths
I am very confident
That I am absolutely terrified
And yet she smiles like
She doesn't know I'm as scared,
as she is, of each other and
of one another.
But her skin is so pail
White masts a ships sail
Something in her eyes
Makes me want to get closer
Danger lover giver death
A kiss is just a test
Why does this kiss feel like poison
She won't let go
Her eyes are impossibly dark
Her heart lacks a beat
And she lacks a heart
I want her all the more for
How much I want her less
She screams my name
I scream yes
Yes, I’m kissing death
397 · Oct 2018
Delicate.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
You love the way I do.
You come crashing down so hard.
Falling, falling into the abyss,
Just hoping someone will catch you.
You don't know how to stop
Or is you don't want to?
You stare into their eyes.
Like standing on the edge.
You lean to close and fall,
Tumbling down those mahogany cliffs.
You need only affection, touch
Closeness, reality, a person to see you.
Like a baby bird you heart is tender
It needs to be held and warmed
Alone and cold it freezes,
And never learns to fly.
I know how you love,
Don't you ever wonder why?
Because I love the way,
And you love the way I do.
Sometimes its better to love someone from a distance. After all the fire provides us warmth but it can burn us just the same. On a more human note I am terrified to post these kinds of poems because they come straight from my heart. Let me know you like them and want me to post more.
373 · Dec 2018
Eyes
Imanuel Baca Dec 2018
Oh you hallow feet walking here.
These thoughts, These words
But shadow images,  the trees
Each branch, each scar, a history
A snapshot of the intermixed mystery
We pass through, a leaf trassioning  
Like the ear of one shadow listening
To every other paper cover,
Like the blind man lover
With but handy impressions
Of these more than meets the eye transgressions
372 · Mar 2019
A poem about xanax
Imanuel Baca Mar 2019
I have always favored depth.
Life is but flavored death.
Stroll easy through my candy shop.
To pick my treats, to pick my poison.
My friend and I we walk through winding Streets.
Finding solace in our solemn sweets.
From the ties in our shoes to the tasteless laces in
our treats.
We don't mind our souls on retreat.
With each candy painted second tasting better.
Finally living the dream as we go to sleep.
Written for a friend going through hard times.
355 · Oct 2018
FIGHT
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Pain, my ear is bleeding
A former friend lays broken
My purple knuckles swelling
Destroying some is never elegant  

The rush, it tingles
Blood is pumping loud
I can feel the cold lifted
Feelings at last.

Feeling don't last
I'm drowning to deep
You can fight to change your status
To gain respect

There are some things you cant fight
Try all that you might
You want to kick something
It doesn't help

If only I could fight
I would fight
I would fight to my last breath
I would fight until I am dead

till my fists are nothing but mangled pieces
Screaming a battle cry, my voice goes out
Marching onwards feet ****** stubs
Body giving up only my brain is still on

Every last fiber of me would fight
And rip it to pieces.
I would even **** death
So I could keep fighting

But I can not fight
No matter how strong
This battle is losing
I can only watch

You can't fight the tears
You can't fight the years
Your feelings won't stop
Neither will your pain

So stop fighting
Stop trying
Stop holding on
Nothing you do will change this, so let it go.
I have hurt people in the past in fist fights. I have learned and lived to regret it and I am deeply sorry. I have made what a amends I can and that is it. When you grow up in a bad place fighting becomes one of the only ways to release some of your frustrations for your situation. I don't support fist fighting though and if any of you have had to fight at some point in your life I am deeply sorry. Please note that this poem is about letting go of fighting and learning how to grieve and overcome pain in a healthy way.
319 · Oct 2018
Man
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Man
A man stands before a raging fire
One eye is open one eye is closed
His foot stands in the fire of his dreams
His other foot in the ice of his nightmares
Through his suffering flows the change
That makes his dreams reality
And his nightmares just dreams.
Please decide what this poem is about and let me know. I honestly don't have a clue my self. I only wrote it after all.
311 · Oct 2018
Serpentine.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
I try to grasp.
It slips away
I give up it wrath
It's back to stay

So it seems that I only dream
The more I let go the easier it becomes
I shed my skin a snake
I go for a swim in a lake of gold
What are these feelings I cant shake
Are these lies I have been told?
I am tender, I want to awake
In this life I have always been old
So I let my heart of hearts unfold
Things can be to illusive to explain properly, so we are forced to use pose and metaphor.
308 · Oct 2018
Life
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
The deeper we dive to the depths of our pain, the further we soar the heights of our beauty.
Sometimes the hardest most complicated things to say are the simplest to put to words.
293 · Nov 2018
Castels in the sky
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
We built a beautiful sand castle together for years.
Then in a moment it melted away in the ocean tides in-between our fingers.
Where are you these days?
286 · Nov 2018
In hindsight.
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
First you say I love you without knowing what is meant
As though love is some money that is bought sold and spent
Then you say I love you as a sin you can repent
love hits forever it has already made it's sliver dent

Latter you will say I love you with greater caution
Knowing love is not something free or easy gotten
All the pains of love and sleepless nights that you’re caught in.
At the end you will say it's what you've been so lost in.

But it's only when you have lost that sweet bitter taste of love
And angels play their teardrop, heart string, harps from down above
Then looking back you see the push, pull, and lovely shove,
And from sweet bitter pain, it's only in hindsight that you love.
You know it's kind strange how you never realize what you have until you have lost it. You would think we'd learn to vaule our loved ones a little more if we could.
284 · Nov 2018
Trees
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
I sit at the edge of a creek
It's the middle of the night
Warm air is blowing over me
I listen the the whispers of the water

My eyes melt, molten metal
My brain comes to a grinding halt
Faulty machinery anyways
Grass and leaves overgrow me

Thousands of years pass
I only catch glimpses of them
A life lived through dreams
I only feel through the soil

My roots grow past uneven ground
Touching dark waters
My bark hard and brittle
Protects my gentle sap

My leaves drink supple sunlight
This elegant growth is slow
Grass pushes up around me
In this life I am drowning
I am not really sure what to say about this poem besides this is how I feel late night awake and alone.
270 · Mar 2019
Lost
Imanuel Baca Mar 2019
Red like rust or brown like dried blood.
A ocean surrounds me but it's no ocean of water.
I dive into the endless beaches that stretch out
like false promises of love there's no water at their end.
I let desert Hawks Cloak me in feathers.
I let the shadow of the night become my blanket and the Stars.
the stars become the eyes of families I've never had that watch over me for all eternity.
The water leaves my body to return again each day.
Sands flows through me until there is nothing left.
Nothing left but a old woman tells me.
You my son, You have found the way.
No man commits worse crimes than the crimes he commits against himself.
265 · Nov 2018
WHAT AM I?
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
Are you tired child
Well I am tired beyond imagining
My next break is just beyond the end of all-time compounded by enos multiplied by infinity
And yet still I work on
I am hungry but I have no mouth
I'm thirsty but I have no stomach
And why why do I do all of these dreadful things?
BECAUSE:
I am the end of all beginnings
I am what lies behind every ocean and every sunset
I give birth to worlds and I consume stars
I am what lies behind every ocean
I am the doubt and every lovers heart
I am the stage upon which reality takes place
I am the shadow behind every grain of sand
I am the blackness in the middle of the night but somehow darker than that
I am the madness and every great artists minds
But somehow more incomprehensible than that
What am I?
I am chernobog. Lord of darkness defender of light.
A strange conversation I had with a character in one of my dreams.
261 · Feb 2019
A completely honest poem
Imanuel Baca Feb 2019
Everything I say is a lie
I have never see the sky
I don't have a million questions why
I give up after only a one little try
I have always loved to say goodbye
I was completely neutral when I caught your eye
That night I didn't dream that I could fly
My heart is not caught up in a tie
And you can believe every word of my,
Soliloquy, because everything I say is a lie.
Lying is bad kids.
255 · Oct 2018
Time
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Time
I bought some time,
For a dollar on a dime.
Through my fingers slipping by
The one who lingers on goodbye
Tripping over the sun, you shouldn't mind
At the end of your run, What you'll find
With these words it will rhyme
Have you heard?No?
Oh well you,
Just,
Ran,
Out
Of
Just a silly poem I wrote for fun. Poetry can't all be sadness and heart break now can it? That being said some of the best poems are heart break porms.
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
I mouth I love you, into the ocean wind that steals my sound.
I dream of you underneath, my love, in the water of your absence I drown.
Demonizing silken spider web lies cocooning my fragile heart.
Your hands slipped out of mine in the dark my love, but to turn on the light would tear me apart.
I miss you.
219 · Oct 2018
Sun shine and happiess
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Sunlight is such a thin guise
I walk down the street
How can it be sunlight and happy outside?
Beneath my feet I can feel
Lurking around every corner I see it
Shadowy, smooth, silky, slithering
Oh yes it's there alright
People walk around smiling
How can they be happy
Don't they know?  
Beneath a picnic bench
Lying in wait, the deep pastel black shadows?
How can it be sunlight and happy outside?
No one ever stops to think,
No ever for a second
This bright bubbly light is a thin mask
To the world's true nature
Beneath the mask there is pure
darkness, cold hardiness without cure
But even in the blackest of nights
Children smiling all seems alright
You can't really see it, no
Or deep in underground
Not a sight not a sound
With no one around
Still you have not seen it
You have not felt it
That “thing” that lies under
Right under the surface
Behind our thinly veiled illusion of reality.
How can it be sunlight and happy outside?
When inside I am heartbroken.
Isn't it weird that you can see the bad in the world when you feel horrible and yet you find so much good in the world when you feel great? And you never do you think of the other side when you caught up in one?
199 · Oct 2018
Man and nature.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Mushrooms grow from trees
Birds sing by flying bees
Flowers wander in the breeze
There is something serene
About this war zone scene
Everything is struggling
Pulling and tugging
And yet it's so quiet
Peaceful and rested
Meanwhile a man is getting arrested
Toxic products tested
Factories scream
And great silver plastic beasts
Prowling the streets
All raise a war cry
Humans eyes hide tears
Hide fears
Hidden from peers
This is a war zone too
But there is something wasteful
Something toxic
Something wrong
In the way this battle is fought without any love
179 · Nov 2018
Nirvana at a cost
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
I take a drink of the deep
Dark pouring think molasses through my teeth
I grow from gruel filling poison in my holes
My eyes turn wooden twisted cruel
Dragging weights a thousand fold through mud
I drive below the surface exploded by it's cold embrace
Loves lipstick sticks from death's cold kiss
I paint black over that canvas of my pain
Tossing out old teeth there is not much I'll miss
Burning lava flows through my veins
To power factories in labyrinths forgotten
I pull out my heart filled with running things
Demons and night mares that have almost escaped my dreams
I let logic take a rest. Drinking only smoke on my death breath.
Then I plant a kiss upon the petals of black lotus
And smile for enlighten. But at what cost?
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
A hundred words, a hundred rhymes
For all of them I dont have the time
To show my mind with their design
Without them, I have done just fine
I have definitely made up my mind
No more words, no more rhymes
No! Wait not again….
Oh folly! I made a rhyme times nine.
146 · Oct 2018
Ash tray romantics
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
She leaves, she turns and walks away
Is that all I am, a puff of smoke?
So I do a ****, I do a wisp and then I blow away
But I wish, oh I wish to be inhaled
Then I would be but smoke in lungs
But Ash on lips
But gray soot in the corner of your mind
Tap tap tap on the dirtied Glass
There is nothing left to find
There's no longer a spark
Or a little glow
Just sad crumpled cigarette butts
All lined up in a row.
140 · Oct 2018
A single second.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
The sheer beauty of an eternity
Grasped and only the tiny fragment of a moment
Like an entire Glacier made of ice
Only a melting flake, the castle in your hands

Dreams of being king and being the king of Dreams
Entire cities built by one man
Mountains turn to sand
The twinkle in the eyes of the one who says “I am”

Having your breath taken away by the ocean shore
Having your breath become the breeze
Your eyes the sky your knees the seas
Let your mind become the Stars

Let your heart become the vial beating sun
Catch and dance and play and lay
Your dreams are supernovas in the sky
Then ask the question “what all of my hands?”

Your hands are the tools of creation.
The forge’s fire, the fire’s hammer,
The Hammer’s hands that guide it
For all of the vast shorelines of existence

Your hands are the plans that ride it.
But all this looking away,
Is no place to stay,
However being present sure is fun. have you ever tried it?
137 · Oct 2018
Pastel memories.
Imanuel Baca Oct 2018
Two kids kick out their rough and tattered feet
Summers hot, and there's no way to beat the Heat
They race through long and winding streets
They ****** up chalk from Mats, that are there to greet

Pink and yellow poems, cover every sidewalk
Dragons and fairies all up and down the block
It's their bedtimes, the kids are home before the clock
But you can still see the way they talked, within the chalk

Childrens great works of art forgotten with the summer rain
They battle with sticks, honorable knights shouting playground names
Until they stumble upon something that no one can quite explain
Sidewalk chalk poems and flowers mixed into the drain

— The End —