it was dark and tender
my dad next to me
I was five
so free
at the driveway
we be

at some point
of the night
we looked upon the sky

I don't know why

we looked at the north
I saw a star so bright
with the colour of light

I looked him in the eyes
and said
“that's…grandpa”
flying so high

he said “no”

that's the northern star
it will always be
the brightest of them all
it's there when you seek
a guide to peek

when you've traveled so far
where no one can fish
when you wonder
‘Is this… ?’
or
‘What if…?’’
remember the star
that's it

my dad taught me English

just one time
I was at the age of nine
or maybe six
three
or two
I have no clue
it’s his first language
or something close to it
from Cuba, China, Canada,
to college in the Netherlands
and meeting Belgium for the first
not only for thirst
but because it’s a place
called home
for my grandparents
cause at the end
you always come back
to what you’ve had
I guess that doesn't rhyme
but It's fine

when I was twelve
I had to go to language camp
trying to learn
the language that has burned
on the soul of my dad
don't get mad
I came crying home
practice was needed
one week
not enough

so after summer turned
school returned
English I learned
while I sat on that chair
in the seat over there
pen and book
it was terrible too
but after three years
I could finally say
"How are you today?”

not special for sure
just studying this
everyone can do it
but I hope someday
I can make him proud
when he won't shout
when I make…
a misssteaaacke


I'm sorry

excited I got
looking forward
wouldn't stop
could almost touch
the dream I saw
behave I will
follow the drill

two months to wait
turned with one call
no faith
three years -it changed
older I get
let's see what's left
in 3 years
no drafts
a sketchbook full
of practice deep
sketches weep
still I will follow free
the path
for me

a dream that broke
so much to choke

discrimination it is
but I won't miss
they made a choice
but I have a voice
write it down
with rhyme, not frown
the truth I speak
without a leak