I really don’t want to fall
Towards the asphalt and all
That possibly I may understand
And nevertheless not hold a hand
The meanings regardless
The tone of it alone is senseless
Here we taste our bitterness
In thought of submissiveness
Retracting from this internal argument
I let my hold, lead to recovered moments
To see anew in spirits passing by
Allowing no judgments given by eye
Then it recovers from reason
That the insolence of my attention
Was skewed by heart of this lesson
That once we love, we ponder of that only one
No matter the moral to our background
There are always breaks to get around
To make amends to sincere intentions
For where the day ends we continue on
Walking alongside following the tension
Of our will and moral detention
The irony that we all befall
Is she causes it all
Grief when I hear from you,
Stress when you need me.
So it would be natural to think
You’re the downfall of me.
But yet you tell me and show me always otherwise.
You just don't know that I take you
For who you are, when you’re with me
Because you are yourself

The patterns in the ceiling
Change their shades in the evenings
While my white linens line my body
I stare meticulously at dripping saline
My hands tell their stories
Of triumph and failure
Of changing primary colors
I can feel the beating
That resonates throughout

We walk through life, and people arrive and depart
Efforts lost and smiles maintained although
The thought still remains that we all connect
With others in compliment for we are not all the same

Friends and family are our common associations
But the true delight is to come across new relations
The very spark that occurs is the beauty of deliberation
That a new: character, face, life will bring our soul transfiguration

What would our lives be without other beings?
Purely a mundane existence fueled by utter neutrality
Just having the dear glow, voice, and presence
Of another is enough to bring light to our own existence

There are times when we are alone, tired, and displaced in our world
We just need comfort of another the understanding of their word.
They know what to say in times of need and the same upon our position
These are our lasting friends, the faces we age with, and tear with love in consideration

In general when someone is shadowed by life lend your heart
For while they may not show gratitude, your sentiments will impart

Difference meant crosses
connecting lines of diffusion.
Anak, there was a time
your last name - carried
but prejudice will follow.

Our immigration,
garnered tailored unsuited
ties to our beautiful pearls,
progress adapts singularity,
a strength for your identity.

Relief, from fastened shades
opens palms allowed to dry.
Soiled worth will blossom
your ancestry will procure
self-reflection, and will spread.

Speaking our language
turned to novelty stones.
But a divided tongue
will speak the same good
bringing you respect.

Wash your hands, pray before
eating with your hands.
Appreciate the feel of the rice
each grain has it’s worth,
the pull from our hull.

the lunacy that is foreseenfrom the eccentric glowof what we affix as attentivewaves in contracted honesty pulling for a dualitydespite our trained individualitywith this intended dissension  we are seeking comfort pushing within our fortifiedfacades dwelling, foretellingmelodic expressions revealing a need for innocenceto run proportionally with socratic thought

A poem cannot be written
when thoughts are of disarray,
and the focal point is a loss.
While the rhythm is drowned
under bridges, and refrains
repeat and singing is even left
in thoughts loosely transcribed
only in the presence of the writer's muse
.Some would even say the subject
Has made this mind digress
To write behind words,
defensive to revel in revealing
this inspiration:
Stanzas are left disconnected in corner
sand couplets are left without emphasis,
affected by the coolness of autumnas folded loose leaf papers cover the floor.
The personification is no longer objective
and metaphors have changed to similes.
Ironies have begun to take hold
and the soliloquy remains to take it's stage.
This writer has written this before
it's all too familiar, close, even the same.
The pen has touched this paper
to continue these words is up to you.

different side of the sun
walking toward noon rises
set to driving before night
betting the prior hours away

changing minds
amateur detour
to mature tours
all I once promised
to myself I wouldn't
flip, but time limits
inhibits our poker face
before you know it
your all in

compare a year's days
of eight hours, I actually miss
juggling the jungle of working
the vines, and finding solace
under the shade of night
with new acquaintances
ever different, my eyes
ever blinking, linking
to a new soul, and not limited
to roaming like an unfinished ghoul

the business of a bottle neck effect,
i'm looking to "evolve"
filling the palindrome
and adapt as I always do
as we always eventually
find a means to

i'm seeking my calm
with music in alms
to other's palms
so my hands, and my ears
through headphones
become calls to my mind
as the alarm clocks in again
good morning - to the mirror
your good to go again

Fine porcelain litters the cloth,
yet a quick pull leaves it still.
An exchange of tails both
holding, careful to not spill.

Our plates remain intact,
despite accidents of gravity.
Clearing the surface momentarily
within arrangements of integrity.

Utensils quickly turning
our tensile accent; I uttered
Vowels to what was heard
repeatedly signed our yearning.

His observant mind held
      Strands of coded bonds
      Fond of expressions for
      Incisive presentations
      Of what could be foretold.

      He metastasized thought
      And tempted his youth,
      unraveling behavior
      favoring adult endeavors
      And here I permit my fist
      Beneath my chin in complacency

      Statuesque, pondering whether
      My decisions are remnants of bloodlines,
      Coupled complexes attractive to be subtractive
      To my true desires

      Whether his dismays maybe in part
      To inquiries of adolescent angst
      The repetitive cycle remains with
      Finding one’s embodiment of identity

truth is impartial to realities.
a human condition set
to diverge honorable practicality
to serve one's comfortfor selfish satisfactions.
yes, a liar is unbranched,
rooted in tasted knowledge
and is self-absorbed,
subject contradicted,
by one's mindmerely fooling
the present.the problem, the dynamic of fact and fiction.
a friction that has perpetuated personal attention
to realize that human intentions are reciprocal
;in protection from the truth within us
with the weakness we try not to expose.

May the itinerary of the day
Be necessary towards May

Tempest to drought with slumber
To ironic thirst for summer

Winter delicacy and calamity
Snows falls amidst humidity

Thwarted before leaders,
And solely present to be there

Finally with protocols complete
And words rested, drama just won’t delete

Saturated is all we all become
Just a breaking point of pressure, could succumb

Suddenly all repeats, clockwork till night
Morning beauty wakens us and soothes us by tonight

Brought from this morning
Tracing back days away from here
Where time won’t wait for understanding
Please hear me out for I cannot
By this time you still know my intentions
But I don’t know your direction
Where you’re lost, where you’re confused
Just take a listen through your window
For I’ve taken my words given my voice
Despite your choices, to me you still have poise
You just need to be aware of your heart
Your brokenness, with reason from these stories
There are no coincidences in our breaths
Every move, has meaning upon our days
It has been too long I’ve pondered
Disappointed, shunned and misconstrued
Maybe though that’s my limit to be a conscience
So that I no longer have this internal dissidence

When we enter this reality
Through the uncalled memory
Of our birth,
Crying with nonsense
To newly unveil senses.

The doctor readying his slap
To insure
You’re aware of the world.

The initial daybreak
Grasps with instinct
From the stem
Of our brain,
But we develop
Further in life learning
To walk, talk,
And even further
To tuck in that dress shirt,
All in all learning
The basic facets of living;

Only to further learn
That we cannot know everything
Undefined definite definition
A plotting knot of resolved fiction,

Dualities, influences, susceptibilities,
Insecurities, indecencies, and tendencies
In us all for us to see
And choose not to be.

The card game
Of social exposition
And inquisition
Learning to understand our face
And the people that we trace,

Forming, deforming, uniform
Difficulties
We stumble,
To return standing;

Challenges in holding hands
Returning affections, and mental afflictions
Gaining understanding
That we are being human beings
Refractive in and Reflective at seeing

Birth parallels death
No choice, versed vice
Falling and stumbling sadly
Last moments
Of our lives, begin

Talking gibberish,
Eating mush,
Having no memory
What happened yesterday?
While you lay in your crib
Asleep to a reality

Clouded sights pass as fast as moving light
Focused on visions past
Images flux from left to right
Ironic with these thoughts that have last

This vessel how it must be
To take you to and fro
But thinking from the sights you see
Puts you into a trance you cannot control

To think deeply is a curse of mine
No matter what is done it overtakes
There are times when it passes beyond the line
That given the time, sleep it will surely take

The destinations that fate has placed
From season to season, of this life
The more we experience the more problems to be laced
While on this transport of strife

Though beyond this journey
What makes the day shine is that
While, on this coach, is the tendency
For me to have those thoughts that make me smile

What is it about the matters of the heart
Why do we choose to forget and depart
This trend that embarks upon stillness
Longing waiting knowing without witness
The condition of intertwined thought with paper
Recall the nature of pretend, but your mind is on her
When nights with friends, are absent because she’s not there
Why do you think, stressed by the day then a smile
Fills the mind, lifting spirits like the day was worthwhile
But polarities that are involved Have no place for the working mind to solve
While no passionate artist can paint
The equivalent happens to Christian saints
The sacrifice, of the soul’s trinity
Understanding only by divinity

The minute handed the past
while seconds elapsed alarms.
Expectations lead to patience
- causations falling over charm.

Unrequited executed hanging
on holding all the rest.
Sincerity perpetuated,
unresolved swinging at last.

Barefoot without impression
you remembered this pair.
Unexpected crosswords
rising letters to share.

An exchange of auditions
retracting resigned conditions.

Token and sixty-five in my palm, unsure of my departure
And how to arrive into the window’s light clearing my iris’s aperture
Here I stand thinking of a great deal
Upon what has happened this week and how I feel
Sitting here on this coach for an hour
With the same constants on my mind from before
Praise and grace upon this afternoon weather
Though humble my mind maybe no longer
Upon this seat feeling perturb
I glance at the passing buildings and each street’s curb
Rather questioning my place in Philadelphia
Sadly taking the past and thinking like a pariah
Melodies flood my mind, as the flashing rings shined
Shuttering lenses remain my view as I began to unwind
But from the morning of this Sunday all I thought was that of one
Withdrawn, as I stride from a second gone

Reflected, an iris      of colored contexts      that once had reception without spectacles.       I signed voluntarily the letters to a name      that I sincerely wanted to keep.       I tried to limit the lines      that divided the print      of a written statement of deliverance;      a sealed inner sanctum      that has remained defunct      while displaced of force      all along devout of a substance,       my words strived to be read      ingrained on paper      placed in constants      among summations of variables       clearly he scribed drafts      maintaining a patterned      complex of metaphors      only to contradict       the expressions layered,      confusing this thinker      so that the reader      may interpret a plausible       audibility for thought       looking beyond spectrums      of what is to be foreseen

stern with his words
to discern his concerns to stranger's for their hearts. infallible to present emotion
through echoing laughers; a healing tone around the restless worries of his kin.
abound him is the aura of forgotten soul,
a classic remixed romantic
comparable to the chivalry lost to the courts of modern life.

I need to resist writing metaphorically
with literary techniques and motifs
that occur only for my mind.
I once wrote openly with clear contexts
with rhythmic verses that showed
thoughts kept in line.
That is all lost now.
Writing use to be my medium, my expose
but i've learned beyond this middle line that Icarus
swayed in the sun, fluttering grasping his own wings
that were never part of himself.
He could have used "Red Bull" , but that is just
another false marketing campaign to ourselves;
to utilize tools that already preexist within us all.
The world that we live in is filled with stimuli
that our senses get overloaded and we focus
on what we see in front, as opposed to our front
sour facades, and alternative personas
just so that we can conform; forming
molds that we have no choice but to breath in.Cough!
There is a reason why I wrote in symbols
broken sentence structures, because i did not want to be vulnerable.
To speak this mind, not of mind, not for mind,
but to remindme of emotions, experiences, and realizations.
What we keep inside is our pandora
our deep hope cluttered, underneath,
covered with all that confusionthat we reflect to others.
So, I failed to resist to write in metaphor
but i spoke my mind, i spoke in passion
yet remained somewhat clearand ascertained something to adhere.
Who I am to myself.

I have been pacing enamorately,
standing in airport terminals
not looking for your arrival.
But my eyes began to respectfully
look elsewhere as you came.
My words seem lackluster as we spoke
but I'm just captivated.
I want to write to you,
but i am unable to.
The departure time fast approaches,
and my destination awaits,
can we have just one more conversation,
so that I can listen to you.

the waves, have fallen short.
now it's early in the morning
too dark to see, two thirty three
now, the ceiling bright as day,
resetting all the hours
turning, and hoping your voice returns

past all the time, presently
seconds pass, the second hand
where have you gone
appear right here tonight

'cause all i can say
more than my eyes
is to look away
look away

here in my mind
are photos so clear
orange printed, memories
while candid smiles
unveil my hope
to know you more, everyday

past all the time, presently
seconds pass, the second hand
where have you gone
appear right here tonight

'cause all i can say
more than my eyes
is to look away
look away

straight behind,
and in my side view,
I'm standing now
right beside you,
we're so close,
blind spot at most
where your presence,
has been larger to me

The corner of my eye
The stare I dare to make
You've seen me, look your way
At the hazel of your eyes
Now it's fair to say, that you've -
read me now, for so long

Past all the time, presently,
Seconds go by, the second hand
you're right here now
Appearing tonight
'Cause all i can say
More than my eyes
Is to look my way
Look my way

We all seem to grow apart
but it’s not just the start.
We move away, begin
and find our parts.

Soliloquies to plays
that we recite daily.
Little we know,
but time will owe.

We begin to answer
with knowing
and more, yes
” I remember ” ;
the acts
we use to say
in our once
naive disarrays.
We learned the difference.

We have found
connections:
some strengthened,
newly added,
once forgotten,
and then regained.
- Refrain
we attend
to our chains.

So on this day
you walk not step
staring beyond the next
climb further, higher
hold your breath
your at a stage
no curtains
just certainties
of beginning
your part.

2011 ©AGDP

There is complexity in the heart
Despite even the matters that soon depart
Where it is blind, there is lightened distress
Dear fallen dove, what hath you thought and digress
Hypocrisy to judge, for empty I am as well
Even with waters that shield have divided as well
Backs turned, thinking clearly you suppose your not well
Even to ears familiar you have fears; very well
Camaraderie binds the past but how much more shall it last
With hatchets above grounds of varying cast
There is nothing, silences perhaps
Sadly why I comprehend, sad why I cannot share your joy
Sad that you’re blinded merely by only mishaps
Of the anchors of distracted affections; humanities ploy

realize, realize
defense mechanisms
not on impulse rather
falsifying my intention
to deter my pure elevation

you took out the genie,
but the wish maker in me
got left in the lamp hampering
strokes to my mind in the past
that I fully finally freely let go
no longer wavering
now waving adieu

finding again that old courage
to pursue you

stethoscope to this chest reading one of these "dubs"
as captions to italics  sometimes, we lead
too patient lives, one as receptive the second as disruptive
covertly, convertedso to alleviate, vindicate
these dial tones
exchanged -so to compliment- verses in the clarity
of LP vinyl tracks
posture within degrees
to hear a “Hello?”

to you,

I'm writing a letter for you
keep these words close
lend these images solely
to those mismatched times

i speak with not much grace,
drink water in due respect -
look away yet return,
to your company.

equivocally
i wrote these words
on scattered note cards
learning from the floor
on what should be said
as each possibility
seemingly aligned

i threw away
these 3x5 letters
endearingly followed
by sincerely,

but clearly
i have thought
too much
worried little
than usual

perhaps,
a meal
at your leisure
with my words
now infront of you

but truly
in regards,
to that smile