The moon's haunting glow
From behind the clouds
Guides my path..
Concealed beast within me
Held at bay only by that thin layer
Let the wind not blow
For surely the beast
Would be set free
And in the process....
******...
He's done it before.
I stare at the pale luminous blotch
In the dark sky...
The hunger and anger
I feel in my veins
The tension..
Let the wind not blow
The clouds are needed
A slight breeze could be
Enough to set it off...
Be still Oh fine night..
Let me rest
Let me sleep
There is no god
But for peace
I might pray

I ask the universe Why
It never replies to Me-
Instead It sends Natural Disasters-
and Micacles to See

Hidden messages in the Night Sky
Beauty taken for Granted-
All we have to do is lift-Our-Heads-
I float- Feet not firmly Planted

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Poems by Jeremy Rascon : 90 / 105 « The Unknown To AnybodyThe Wind »
The Urge


We are the unity of Man and Hate
the undivided
Wrath
and Vengence
Jealousy hidden in Love
the craving for blood
we are the Urges
Fear and Loneliness
beasts in the night
ready to bite
a Plague
Infecting every child born
only the Strong can
keep Control...
are you that Hero?
or will you fall as many have
before and will always continue to do so..
Approach...
Face us...
or Flee
and be Pursued
Until your dying day...
Hero...

The star I stare at is the brightest in the sky
How I wish I could fly
Into space
And race
Asteroids and meteors
To be marked down in history as the explorer amongst explorers
To distant planets with life
With struggle and strife
I dream of that
To live and travel the unknown to anybody

Aztec in arts
Spanish in conquest
The Mexican breathes
And lives
Taking control
Controlling the taken,
Our blood hot
Like the chile we eat
Don't expect any less
Outside we are strong
Desert cacti
Sharp unforgiving and rough
On the outside
But the inside
Water flows
The love flows
For la raza
Death envies our vidas
So rich and full
Fearless
And feared
Tattoos cover our skin
Like they did
Our ancestors
Soon we will rise
Soon we will unite

In a ****** society
Chicanos thrive
culture changing
as we try to survive
the vatos in the calles
**** our own kind
our culture we can't find
Aztec ancestors
Spanish savages
the blood of warriors
but our native tongue is tied
family from mexico, access denied
a fence divides
we act out in aggression
now la raza has tension
tattoos with meaning unknown
ignorance is whats really shown
our culture is lost

My pen glides
the paper slides
thick lines
thin lines
curved
straight
I scribble
never erase
I create
my art
my heart-