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Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
People don’t want to die
But they want to go to heaven
They don’t want to pay the price
They just ask to be forgiven
They lay in the sun
Yet judge by the color of skin
They want to change
But cling to where they’ve been
To receive their daily tender
Without earning it first
Is the easiest path
And from you they will coerce
Believing in their own greatness
Yet trying so very hard
To conceal their true selves
They always remain on guard
The price of the ego
Is the cost of your soul
The gift of your heart
Is the blessing someone stole
To withstand the pain of loss
We walk a lonely path
Embracing a material curse
And rejecting John’s bath
Instead we are awash in sin
Of the flesh and mind
A hedonistic rationalization
What did we expect to find?
As desire causes suffering
Introspection causes pain
But the journey to the mountaintop
Will turn fire into rain
As you wash away your doubts
And your need for approval
The sun will open your heart
And begin fear's removal
And on the day you awaken
To a new world brotherhood
You will become a blessing to others
And there will be a flower where you once stood



Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserve. Mark Lecuona
Feb 2012 · 691
Depression or Reality
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
It has been raised before
The question
Of prosaic content
And depression
The exploration
Of depth
Instead of untold heights
And the breadth
Of what is sanity
And what is madness
Inducing fear
And sadness
In those who care
But who wish to remain
In the happy talk
Which they feign
As the minstrel
On the street
Receives his daily bread
The giver relishing this feat
Yet nothing changes
The song will remain
As does the pain
Which we cannot explain
It is just a face
That adorns
Each corner
Wearing silent thorns
As we hear again
“I never knew you”
And you gasped
But it was true
And I know
This was directed to me
And not you
Because I could see
The face on the corner
Was the sanity
And my mind turning
Was the insanity
Of our condition
But you say, “No more!”
“Stop writing about it”
But what for?
So we can forget?
I cannot
Yet I too am helpless
With words that rot
On a page
That cannot be digested
Or provide nourishment
To the souls we neglected
Yes the question remains
Is it sanity?
Or is it depression?
As I insist on reality
Is happiness a choice
To be accepted or rejected?
Or is it a blessing
And unexpected?
Engaging in searing sadness
Over unending childhood memories
Which I wish to relive
Because my Father would have his faculties
I am overwhelmed
In the past
But today
A new memory will last
Because it was a happy one
And the child I rear
Will someday blink back
A tear
As she wills her mind
As I do today
To go back
Somehow, someway
To a time
Of her childhood
When we were together
Where past and present stood
Yes I want to cry
So I can remember
That what I long for
Is in my child’s December
Her new morning
Became mine of long ago
Her new day
Became what I used to know
She took me back
And I saw the boy
And his father
In her eyes of joy
And I remembered
My sanity
And my depression
Were instead a sign of a divinity
That I cannot explain
But can feel
As her love
Reminds me of what is real
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
You caught my eye
But you wouldn't play your part
You broke some glass
Then you broke my heart

Why does it always happen this way?
Everytime our eyes meet
You seem to walk away
Walk away
Far away

Breakin' bottles
Breakin' hearts
Pourin' dreams
When will love start?

Parting is upon us
Will the memory last?
Was that the one?
Or just another moment that passed?

Breakin' bottles
Breakin' hearts
Pourin' dreams
When will love start?

To suffer the pain of togetherness
Or the liberation of being a muse
It's not for me to say
I'll leave that for you to choose

Living as the dream
Living as the mystery
Living as the fantasy
Living as the hope

Breakin' bottles
Breakin' hearts
Pourin' dreams
When will love start?


Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserve. Mark Lecuona
I wrote this for a cute bartender after she threw an empty bottle into the trash can... she liked it then I never saw her again....
Feb 2012 · 1.7k
A Poet's Obsessions
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
Vomiting talk on love, greed and politics
Obsessing about pain, loneliness and metaphysics
The delusionist prophet in his unslumbering mind
Wandering over to you to let you in on a revelatory find
That you may or may not want but will come to know
While you raise the glass to your sweet red lips trying not to show
How bored yet fascinated you are with the next word or forty
Because it’s life before it happens or a coda to some other story
Told in a way that you cannot ignore because it’s the truth that blows
Flooded with the tears that you dried before they stained your pretty clothes
To mask the vacuousness of Saturday night boys who can only look
Acting **** sure in banter they memorized from a dead man's book
No more or less meaningful than anything I’ve ever said or could reveal
Of all things that I believe about life that I can no longer conceal
From my solitary existence where no man can stomach or stand
The constant state of thought rejecting out of hand
Trendy desperation of approval and shrewd thievery
Faith sales, unkindness and notorious celebrity
The things that make me sick with disgust over the human race
As I run through the cavities of another poet's dark place
I see men bragging and living on vicarious pleasure
Accepting ill-gotten gain for an earthly treasure
And emotionally immature desires fueling a mob’s fury
In reckless celebration causing injury
I see the down-hearted unable to find love
Because they are different or unattractive
I see two men born of the same mother
Begging on Christmas day leaning on one another
I see the bitterness I feel towards a woman
The one I thought was the only one
I laugh as I pass the things I once desired
And sneer at the people I once admired
I see adults talk while my child sings
And block my view to rearrange their things
I see a happy ******* her wedding day
But soon to be divorced with nothing to say
I see the only thing that makes people able to cope
Is to drink, smoke and **** while death tightens the rope
I see good people adopt a young boy
And then cancer robbing them of their joy
I see reality TV and a material girl become rich
Because of a *** tape and being a *****
I see a man go to war and learn about the horror
And then speak loudly with truth that causes furor
I see praying, evangelizing and moralizing
By men of sin taking advantage of true believing
I see selfish behavior in search of a feeling
Become useless activity devoid of meaning
But then I touch you and you turn to me
With the look of love that I want to see
And I wonder why I burden you
With the injuries my mind cannot subdue
I continue to kick the apple core in your garden
And curse the snake that made my mind harden
As your desperate beauty dances within my burning soul
Mocking it almost as if superficiality is in control
A lightness that incubates within the flame
Impervious to all its trauma and pain
Waiting for madness to end
And for sanity to begin
Feb 2012 · 3.6k
Tupac Said
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
Tupac said: **** the world
And on the first day he wept
Tupac said: **** the world
Because he knew God had slept
Tupac said: **** the world
No promises to be broken or kept
Tupac said: **** the world
This baby was already in debt
Tupac said: **** the world
In anger there is no word of thanks
Tupac said: **** the world
He **** sure wasn't shooting blanks
Tupac said: **** the world
So I ask why am I so sheltered?
Tupac said: **** the world
And act so self-centered?
Tupac said: **** the world
Is it because my Mom held me?
Tupac said: **** the world
And she was always there for me?
Tupac said: **** the world
Why can't I see his point of view?
Tupac said: **** the world
Why are white people so scared of you?
Tupac said: **** the world
He was a product of real life
Tupac said: **** the world
His bottle was a switchblade knife
Tupac said: **** the world
Yeah we thought he was a criminal
Tupac said: **** the world
His anger was not so subliminal
Tupac said: **** the world
So while we give thanks and pray
Tupac said: **** the world
It seems we really just look away
Tupac said: **** the world
Man what's wrong with that boy?
Tupac said: **** the world
A gun in his hand ain't no toy
Tupac said: **** the world
Where was he supposed to go?
Tupac said: **** the world
What if you were raised by a **?
Tupac said: **** the world
Are we in a position to judge?
Tupac said: **** the world
Maybe it's us we should begrudge
Tupac said: **** the world
What should offend you more?
Tupac said: **** the world
The reality you try to ignore?
Tupac said: **** the world
The shock of all the profanity?
Tupac said: **** the world
Or the fact of his poverty?
Tupac said: **** the world
He knew he was disposable
Tupac said: **** the world
A gangsta rappers's not so lovable
Tupac said: **** the world
That was the only way to survive
Tupac said: **** the world
Nobody cared if he lived or died
Tupac said: **** the world
The industry only wants the money
Tupac said: **** the world
But they never called him honey
Tupac said: **** the world
He was dead before he was born
Tupac said: **** the world
But he could rhyme about scorn
Tupac said: **** the world
And now he's dead and gone
Tupac said: **** the world
Did you think he was wrong?
Tupac said: **** the world
He knew how to die better than you
Tupac said: **** the world
What do you pay attention to?
Tupac said: **** the world
Reality tv and some situation?
Tupac said: **** the world
Being trendy and *******?
Tupac said: **** the world
The money really didn't really matter
Tupac said: **** the world
He kept up the harsh street chatter
Tupac said: **** the world
He wasn't climbing no social ladder
Tupac said: **** the world
Because his heart could never gather
Tupac said: **** the world
All the Lord's blessings
Tupac said: **** the world
Like flowers and angel's wings
Tupac said: **** the world
Living on the streets instead
Tupac said: **** the world
Where the ladder is full of lead
Tupac said: **** the world
The lead of pain and bullets
Tupac said: **** the world
And not soft golden nuggets
Tupac said: **** the world
Of love and tenderness
Tupac said: **** the world
Just blood and nothingness
Tupcac said: **** the world
So who is holding him now?
Tupac said: **** the world
Is he where love will allow?
Tupac said: **** the world
A man to become a boy?
Tupac said: **** the world
A boy with happiness to enjoy?
Tupac said: **** the world
You don't like gangstas rapping like crooks
Tupac said: **** the world
There's no page for him in the good book
Tupac said: **** the world
Were his sins from his mother and father?
Tupac said: **** the world
And those who would string up a brother
Tupac said: **** the world
Try to just say no when your ship ain't sailin'
Tupac said: **** the world*
Hey God what is it that you were sayin'?
Feb 2012 · 628
You Are Beautiful
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
What flaw exists
In the presence of your incredible smile?
What blemish exists
In the presence of your creations?
What loneliness exists
In the presence of your children's love?
What fear exists
In the presence of God's revelations?
You know the answer
Breathe
You are beautiful
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
Are you carrying a silent burden? A memory you wish to forget? I have a few. Some were acts of stupidity that resulted in personal embarrassment. Back in college there was this girl that I liked. She had a new stereo bought for her by her Dad and she asked me if I could help her hook it up. My roommate asked if I needed help and I said no because I was afraid she would like him better than me if he put the stereo together. Look at how my shallowness was imputed onto her. Anyway, I put it together and I spliced the speaker wires together in a way that eventually shorted out both speakers. It was a humiliating experience. And because I was broke all I could do was apologize and slink away in shame.

Once though, I almost died. Climbing a small mountain in Palo Duro Canyon I found myself on a ledge, looked down and froze. I panicked. I had no confidence in the next step. Somehow, I lifted my foot and slowly made my way back to safety. The distance I needed to travel was less than six feet but it felt like a mile. This happened almost 27 years ago and to this day I can break into a cold sweat just thinking about that moment.

These aren’t memories that I wish to deny, but they are memories that cause mental discomfort. I have no one to blame except myself because I put myself into these situations. It's all over now and I've managed to become more prudent yet I still carry the memories (especially the little mountain climb) as if they happened yesterday.

Today, I suffer no loss of pride or ego. Why is that? Somehow I'm able to ignore self-inflicted wounds yet others carry around the pain of trauma inflicted by others.

Trauma can burn a hole into your mind. The hole can be covered up with experiences to the point that it's not noticeable to others, but you know where it is. And you avoid that hole. You build your life around it. It's as if you build a house on top of unstable soil. Instead of building on a solid foundation, you pretend the hole does not exist and move ahead without dealing with the hole. And you know what you have done is defer your problem to the future or you let it affect your life in such a way that you possibly deny yourself pleasure or invite stress because you cannot look into the hole and determine how to fill it permanently.

But what if the hole in your mind was dug by someone else? What if they dug the hole when you were unable to stop them? Maybe they dug the hole and you didn't even know that a hole didn't belong there. Maybe you felt that having a hole in your mind was normal because someone you felt had your best interests at heart was doing the digging.

There is a sign next to this particular hole with one word on it: Abuse. The word on this sign tends to be overused but there are those who need other words to describe their pain because the words hole and abuse cannot begin to describe their trauma. The problem is that society tends to be unforgiving about mental issues because to the naked eye, there is no evidence of a true problem. The human mind is so complex yet we simpletons tend to believe it can be managed very easily. Just do it they say. Just think your way through the problem and its all better.

To me the problem is that the mind does not heal itself like the rest of our body. A cut heals itself. But a severe injury such as a broken bone requires the help of a doctor. We all know this to be true and would consider someone foolish if they did not seek medical attention. Yet when the mind is injured we make fun of people who seek the help of counselors or psychiatrists.

Why is that?

Maybe it’s because we all know we could use help. Yet competency and having your act together is seen as the most important thing in life at times and our ability to day in and day out function under stress is the expectation. It’s been so commoditized that we are tough on ourselves and on others. We struggle through the day with high blood pressure or possibly drinking problems and soldier on instead of calling a mental doctor and just having a chat. This third party can help because they can let you know that you are not alone in your irrational feelings of fear that occasionally creep into your mind.

But, what about that hole in your mind that someone else dug? Why is it a problem? Maybe it was dug long ago and the shovel has been put away. Do you pick up the shovel and keep digging? Why do you refuse to fill it up? Do you feel unworthy? Do you think you somehow are tainted? Do you feel you need to be forgiven? You don’t need to be forgiven because you have done nothing wrong. You were abused. You were taken advantage of. But you retain the right to be happy. The right to a good life. The right to dream and to achieve. But are you not allowing yourself what everyone else seems to take for themselves? They are no better than you.

Yes, it happened to you. Yes, it was terrible and that person deserves bad things for what they did to you. But, this isn’t a conversation about forgiving them because I don't have the right or the insight to tell you to forgive them. That is up to you. But, it is a conversation about healing yourself and looking into the mirror and saying “I’m a human being and whatever someone did to me long ago doesn’t matter.”

Maybe you carry this with you because your abuser made you feel as if you deserved it. You didn’t. You were a child. They were an adult. All children cry, scream, act selfish and make mistakes. You were no different than any other child, but your abuser was different than normal adults. They had an illness or an inferiority complex so profound that they could only make themselves feel better by abusing someone who was helpless. You were helpless. But, it wasn’t your fault and today you should stand up and say “I deserve happiness because I did nothing wrong.”

You have to demand this of yourself. The hole must be filled up with the knowledge of your helplessness in the face of the abuser and with the true belief in your worthiness as a human being to exist in a happy state as others appear to be. You can do this because there is no reason to not believe in yourself. If the one who should have loved you the most didn’t love you then accept this fact and understand that you are lovable. It was their sickness that infected your mind. THEIR SICKNESS; NOT YOURS.

Don’t expect rejection from others because of what happened to you. Not everyone is an abuser. But if you carry this with you then everyone will be an abuser in your mind and you will fulfill a destiny that you have created. Stop looking for the approval of others. They are not God. They are merely human beings just like you and even though they may appear to have their act together, they don’t. Everyone is flawed. So don’t let yourself be intimidated by people; especially because of what happened to you. That is not you. That is only what happened to you.

DON’T LET IT BECOME YOU. And don't make others believe your hole is normal. It's not their burden. Don't dig a hole in their mind. Ask them to help fill yours up.
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
The mile markers sound like a fan in the wind
Was that last one three eighty-eight or four-hundred and ten?
They go from green to black and back to green again
I'm so tired the colors are starting to blend

Do you know the soul of a truck driver?
He's starin' straight ahead and drivin' forever
Can you feel the heart of a truck driver?
He's got scars but you know he's a survivor

It seems I can't out-drive my problems
It's an undying bush with unwanted blossoms
I never see my kids because this road never ends
So I keep driving and lie about not needing friends

I know I got my issues
But then don't we all?
When I think about the world's
Mine seem kinda' small

I'm gonna' quit complainin'
'Cause I got some work to do
Yeah I got my problems
I'm gonna start solvin' the one with you

I used to throw the ball with my boy after work
But they cut back my hours and my wife thinks I'm a ****
So I decided to jump back into my old rig
I'm tryin' to get out of the hole I decided to dig

Do you know the soul of a truck driver?
Starin' straight ahead and drivin' forever
Can you feel the heart of a truck driver?
He's got scars but you know he's a survivor

I've never been a dreamer
But this black-top has turned white
Floating above the clouds where I'm free
I wonder if I can trust the light

I realize how angry I am
That's not me but it's who I've been
I know I can be the man my mom raised
It's not a matter of if it's a matter of when

Do you know the soul of a truck driver?
He's starin' straight ahead and drivin' forever
Can you feel the heart of a truck driver?
He's got scars but you know he's a survivor

I don't mind burning my heart on the road
It simmers as I reap what I sowed
I'm trying to save the hearts that I protect
For my children I'll suffer; but never neglect*


Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Jan 2012 · 10.0k
I'm Sorry Dr. King
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
You were still alive
When I was a child
I knew of your torment
But this boy only smiled

Living in ignorances
I ignored your scars
We waved the flag
It was the stars and bars

While you marched
To remove your chains
We played rebel soldier
"The South shall rise again!"

Someone called you a ...
And yes... I laughed
It all seemed so funny
This boy gave you the shaft

Later I would discover
My parents rejected this thought
They called Dad a "... lover"
I said "No! He's not!"

How sad as I ran
Humiliated to find
Those who looked like me
Hated my parents' mind

I wanted to be good
I wanted to be proud
Instead I was afraid
I couldn't say it out loud

While I lived in shame
A silent scared racist
You answered your calling
And began to resist

Why did it take so long
So long for me to see
The things that you fought
Happened right in front of me

Labeled 3/5 of a man
Not worthy of a drink
Only to be made fun of
I didn't know what to think

I'm sorry Dr. King
It's all I can say now
I know who is worthy
It is to you that I now bow

With dogs, hoses and a bull
That's how they committed sin
But you turned the other cheek
When they rejected you at the inn

You walked with those
Who were proud and fearless
While you asked to be human
In fact you were peerless

Was Jesus' journey less difficult?
Rejected from birth
Bringing us together
With love from this earth

More than a man
But as weak as any other
You gave your life
To save your own brother

Yes I am sorry Dr. King
For being so weak
For not standing up
For being afraid to speak

But today
I can only hope
That you understand
While I continue to *****

Oh how I wish
My weakness never sprouted
That my goodness
Would never be doubted

But to sit by your side
And look you in the eye
And beg for your dream
As you ask me why

Why does a white man
Ask a slave for a dream?
Why does a white man
Ask a slave for self-esteem?

Why do I ask?
Because I have done nothing
I've lived a life of frivolity
While you died for something

I have squandered all I was given
Expecting it as my right
While you planted what was taken
And brought the slave to life

In an immoral world
Of material possession
You earned moral superiority
And gained entrance to heaven

Who do I answer to?
What penance can I pay?
I am sorry Dr. King
Will you let me stay?

Will you show me now
My shortcomings as a man?
Is it any wonder
That I kiss your hand?

Yes I am sorry Dr. King
As sorry as a child can be
I can make no promises
Except pray for people to be free

I'm sorry Dr. King
But I'm also proud
That I came to know you
To remove the shroud

Of bigotry and racism
From my small mind
If we meet one day
I hope this you will find
A confessional....
Jan 2012 · 573
When Will It Happen?
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
You were always there waiting
For a patch of blue in a storm cloud
So you could smile even as it rained
Because you knew then that what you waited for
Was not a dream but the water that cooled your mind

You felt love before you left him
Just to save your skin before the tree branch fell
And broke into pieces washing ashore at last
Into your parched living room to rest
So you could stitch the dead leaves into your past

In a dream from which you never could awaken
You reached and called a number that never rang
Because the line wasn’t connected to anything
But an erstwhile lover you sat next to on a broken sofa
As you wondered if he would ever know the song you sing

It’s not the thought of real love that hurts so much
But the empty hands of companionship that caresses
Your life and who you are because of all your losses
And the chance you had to be held at night
As the birds teach us to sing a lullaby with our own voices*


Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Jan 2012 · 1.7k
Pathos
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
I finally understand despair
When there is nothing left to do
Except to hurt yourself
I finally understand anger
When there is no calm
Except when you hurt someone else
I finally understand pathos
When I have to reach you
Because I can no longer reach myself
I finally understand depression
When I can reach no one
Because they are somewhere else

I cannot understand happiness
When I am not happy
Because I have rejected myself
I cannot understand contentment
When I am so uninspired
And need to be like someone else
I cannot understand a smile
When I am so lost
Because it does not come from myself
I cannot understand your approval
When I am restless
And want it from someone else

How can I live
When my life is upside down
And the sun is harmful to myself
How can I sleep
When the night is all I have
But it belongs to someone else
How can I love you
When soon I will leave
So I can ****** someone else
How can I exist
When there is no answer
Even when I only question myself

How can I understand
When I cannot live
Unless I am happy with myself
How can I live
When I am unhappy
Because there is nothing else
How can you help me
When I am in need
When I can’t help myself
How can I help you
When I can’t understand
How to love someone else

How can I cope
When I am controlled
And cannot be myself
How can I remain in control
When I am shackled
By someone else
How can I resist
When to resist is to die
Because I am not in control of myself
How can I die
When to live is all I have
Because I am needed by someone else

I must understand hope
Because I need to believe
In something more than myself
I must understand tomorrow
Because today is yesterday
When I was someone else
I must understand how to wait
For something to believe
Because I need to believe in myself
I must understand how to be strong
When that is all I can do
Because of the belief of someone else*



"All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2011. Mark Lecuona."
Jan 2012 · 360
You Need To Tell Me Goodbye
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
We can never touch again
Because there is no room for love
We try to pretend
But it’s something we cannot rise above

We tried to do it
We thought it was an adult situation
But we’re really just kids
We failed to understand emotion

I told you what I could offer
But you deserve so much more
You need a man who loves you
Waiting is not what you asked for

My shadow is cast upon other men
Who approach you with love in their eyes
You silently loom inside all my decisions
As other women wonder if I tell only lies

They want to know where I stand
And I give them the honest truth
It is no closer to love than I am with you
But with you I recapture my youth

We close the door and enter our world
We love each other madly
Poison our bodies
And then part sadly

You beg me to come back
Not understanding how I forget
You pleasure me as no other
And yet I act as if we never met

But I do not forget
I remember
All too well
In my tortured slumber

The vision of your eyes in my mind
With tears of unknowing
How can you give a man so much
And endure his coming and going?

I cannot explain
I cannot commit to you
I cannot commit to anyone
And yet you remain true

How can you believe in me?
How can you see the future
In a man who has no present
And a heart that is never sure?

As the ***** beats the passion play
That only you can hear
I resist the urge
Your pain is my fear

Can you understand
That I hurt you today
So that I won’t hurt you tomorrow
It is uncertainty that lights my way

I keep turning pages
In a book that I cannot put away
The truth of our love hurts so much
But I rip out the pages that betray

I don’t want to read it
It’s about hurting a friend
I wrote your love story
But I don’t know how to write the end

Forgive my lack of courage
I need to tell you goodbye
I keep hoping you will do it first
That way I won’t have to tell you why

I'm looking at the last page
The one that won’t turn
It is your turn to write
Tell me if I should return
Jan 2012 · 1.3k
Submission
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
We must make love
Before we ever touch
We must make love
As we talk
We must make love
Whenever we walk
Together
Or alone
Always on our mind
As a gentle breeze
Capturing your heart
With love
With allure
With anticipation
Even as we wait
Knowing our bodies
Will please the other
Because
That is what matters
Let me be your lover
Let me take you there
You must know
That I crave you
I cannot stop
Thinking of you
Imagining
How you will be
The singular focus
Of my need
To engulf you
Can no longer be denied
And so
It is time
To be still
It is time
To be silent
It is time
For you to submit
To me
We have gazed upon one another
We have bared our souls
We have been equals
Now it is time
For me to be your man
And to be a man
The way you want me to be
The way that I am
You don't have to tell me what to do
I know what you want
I know how you want it
And that is what I want
So it is time
For submission
To be beautiful
To be desirable
To be open
To let me run free
In your life
In your mind
In your garden
Let me control you
Let me turn the key
And open the door
To the way a man
Loves a woman
It is time for me
To carry you
It is time for me
To ****** you
It is time for you
To submit
To my lust
To my desire
To my need
To make love to you
As long as it takes
For your
Exhaustion
For your
Glistening
Beads of sweat
For your
******
Yes
As long as it takes
I will never tire
Because
All I want
Is to make you
Remember
And want more
Every night
I will be your man
I am not beating my chest
It is my heart that beats
In pursuit
Of you
My prey
Let me kiss your neck
Let me turn you
Away
So I can touch you
All over your body
Let me turn you
And see your body
And draw you to me
Let me pull you
To me
So I can touch you
And kiss you
Ravenously
Like an animal
Overwhelming you
With my passion
As you have never felt
Passion
Dominating your mind
So you will forget
Your lessons
Of childhood
So you can be a woman
And make love to me
Your man
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
She said, “I love the way you live
I love the way you fly in your blue skies
You’re so free and full of life”

I thought, “And yet there is no love
Flying high waits for no one
Freedom has no partner”

She asked, “Do you have a mate?”
I said, “No and I’m not looking for one”
She wondered, “What kind of life is this?
She said, “We’re not made to be alone”

I thought, “What does she expect of me?”
I said, “Maybe but then why am I happy?”
She said, “You only think you are”
I said, “Maybe happy is about not being unhappy”

She asked, “Who hurt you so badly that you have given up?”
I said, “The same force that hurt you”
She thought, “I don’t understand not wanting love”
She said, “But if we give up we die”

I thought, “It will just become about control”
I said, “Do you like me as I am or
do you have a vision of what I could be to you?”
She said, “I know what you are asking
You want to know if I have a life or will I make you become my life”

I said, “Yes… are you waiting to live or do you live now?”
She said, “Yes, I have a life but I want to love someone
I want them to love me
It’s what makes life worth living”

I said, “You have a dream of love
But do you have a dream of me?”
She said, “I am attracted to how you live
I want to know how you are”

I said, “If I make love to you
we will be swept up in emotions
Can you do this and still let me fly?”

She said, “Is freedom all that matters to you?
Is flying life or is love?”
I said, “Love is life but flying is freedom
And without freedom I will die”

I asked, “Can you love and let someone be free?”
She asked, “What do you mean?”
I said, “Can you live if I fly without you?”
She asked, “Will you fly with someone else?”
I said, “You see no other bird do you?”

She thought, “What is it that I want?”
She asked, “Can you not fly with me?”
I said, “Yes but only if I am not compelled by you
You cannot live to fly with me
You must live to let me fly”

She asked, “Why must I wait for you?”
I said, “We have not made love and you already question me”
She said, “You are telling me I must wait for you and wonder”
I said, “Yes”
She asked, “What kind of a man are you?
I said, “A free man
Can you build a nest
With a bird that will only fly?"

She said, "I can build a nest
With a bird that wants a nest
And not one that will never land
I do not wish to control you
I only wish to love you
If you cannot accept my love
Then remain free as you think you are
But remember me when you are lonely
Because my love would have set you free"

Thoughts in flight,

"It is not for me to decide
But instead
What is heard by maidens far
And near
Is the matter
As they weigh
The sound of the calling
Against the needs
Of their hearts
And the decision
To set sail
Towards the unknown
But familiar resonance
Of home
Which remains
But a wonder
To the pied piper"
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
Is there no regret without prior desire that can only be described as a wish to have been someone else? To wonder why is to wonder about why you were born to begin with. The decisions you made were made with a desire that may or may not have been misguided but either way it was a force and without it you could not have decided otherwise. Regret becomes a lament when the measured depth of the tears drowns the honesty that has now become who you are. People become cruel in their rejection of their own past; it becomes a rejection of everyone they encountered; everyone they loved; everything they did. They were unable to see what they know now. They lie in bed and cry because they can feel the moment. They see themselves making the same decision, over and over again. It never changes. They wonder how they could have done that but what they cannot remember is how they felt then. They only know how they feel now.

But what about now? Is today’s desire as misguided as yesterdays? Can you trust what it compels you to do? You made your mistakes. Is it time for another? How can you know? In what way can you be who you are? Your weakness is larger than your life. You can be someone else but only as long as you can hold your breath. Maybe what you want to be is not meant for you. Do you have a destiny that you must accept? Everyone suffers. You are not alone is this regard. There are very few people who can describe what they are thinking; who can draw what they see; who can play what they hear in their mind. Regret is the child of fate. Your fate was determined by the power in your life. Your nature is powerful as is the nature of those you chose to believe. The nature you married to your own has a child: Lament…

I tell you this so that you know one day you may look back and wonder why you didn't do things differently. The key to finding your genius is to find the true genius of enthusiasm. And once you do then you will become powerful in controlling your fate. Your fate is governed by your own nature to the extent that you can control events impacting your life. But until you find the genius of your true enthusiasm then you will be living a life that you may one day regret.
Jan 2012 · 931
God's Gift to Women
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
I walked in
God’s gift to women
I had nothing to offer
Except my presence
You
Cleaned the place
Set the table
Tea cups
Flowers
Spoons and forks
Scones
Art work
Books
Candles
A thank you note to someone
A duvet
Pillows
A rod iron frame
Pictures
Everything matched
It was perfect
The scent of femininity
Baked in the allure
You smiled at me
You had done all this
For me
And I thought
I’m not worthy
But it had no effect
Because I’m God’s gift to women
And that's my problem
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
In a dream
I see myself
As you see me
When I awaken
And lose all sanity
As I always do
I ask you
To tell me
What I am about
But I only hear you
When my eyes are closed
Will it ever matter?

In your pain
While I ignore you
You see so clearly
As I sleep
I feel
Finally
What you feel
And it hurts
In my sorrow
I beg for the dream
To stop being so unkind
Will it ever end?

In the same game
I remain as I am
Like yesterday
I walk in the crowd
And remember
Clearly
How you came to me
In the night
And became the dream
That lifted the veil
Revealing what I already knew
Will I ever change?*



All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2011. Mark Lecuona
Jan 2012 · 962
Do You Still Imagine?
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
“…and no religion too…”
Was it easy to do?
Did it make you angry
Or did you agree?
Is God already dead?
Do you believe what Nietzsche said?
But then who killed him?
Was it us or them?
With their rejection
Or your revelation?
We live with man’s insistence
Of defining God’s existence
Creating us in his image
With a holy marriage
Of our disobedient soul
To an ancient scroll
Or does science
Define our conscience
As pure logic
With all else pathologic?
How can we believe
The zealots who cleave
To intellectual scorn
Or under whose God they were born?

“… and there is no country…”
From the pages of history
War and conquest
From time earliest
Past the age of reason
Marching each season
With imperialistic fury
And dominating hegemony
The meek unable to rule
Believing like any fool
The words of the deceased
Strewn from Eden to the East
Giving hope to the hopeless
Who have no access
To the dreams of the chosen
But instead remain frozen
In time to be glorified
By mere words that personified
Our need to care
In impotent prayer

Can you separate your senses
From those whose defenses
Are erected so high
That you cannot tell truth from a lie?
Can you dream of a world
Where a bohemian’s word
Stripped of accompaniment
And all earthly judgment
Has stood the test of time
Even when accused of the crime
Of a treasonous plea
For peace and all to see
The cruelty and horror
That power and desire
Have brought to our garden
Where the meek receive no pardon
Because they dared to beg
For a mere pittance to mask
Their pain and suffering
As they lived with the knowing
That a song about dreamers
Can never overcome the schemers
Who laughed at his naivety
And forced upon you their deity



All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2011. Mark Lecuona.
Jan 2012 · 951
Her Son Died On The Beach
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
She knew then
War is hell
On God's green earth
She heard Satan’s bell
The men approached
An officer and a priest
She fell to her knees
Her joy deceased
Her prayers betrayed
All the good lost
Silently hoping
Realizing freedom's cost
The ultimate sacrifice
To give a son
And now he is gone
While she must live on
To tell a mother
Of her grievous loss
There are no words
Only a white cross
As she plummets
Into the abyss
The spirit moves
Delivering a silent kiss
Her life shattered
The garden forgotten
Dinner has become cold
Will her heart ever soften?
Hatred where there was love
Bitterness all she can feel
As their lips move
Words shock does conceal
As she stares into the night
The nails pierce her memories
His face the mirror
Where she lost all her worries
She floats in front of the bullet
And wipes his brow
There is nothing in this life
That matters now
She covers his pale body
As the blood of life flows
He shivers as he reaches his hand
She smiles because she knows
The mercenary
Loves his mother
It is her special place
There is no other
Did he call for her?
Did he have time to cry?
Or did death give him leave?
Mooting the question of why
His duty to his country
Planted the seeds of pride
Now he is dead
She wondered who lied
Is it time for anger
And the walk down hatred’s trail?
She prayed every night
Hoping for a holy veil
"I pray for my son
Oh Lord remember his name
Spare him a short journey
Do not give Satan true aim
Return him to me
The one who bore the pain
I only ask for life
All mothers ask the same"
And now her prayer
Will never again
Pass her lips
Instead only words so profane
Can she turn the other cheek
For the unknown ******
Or for his “superior” officer
Whose order was the killer
Was he expendable
As a stone over the breach
For others to climb
As they left the dead on the beach?
Did his killer survive?
Or is his mother bitter?
The sons of ambition
Are now only its litter
Glory is no solace
As we fail to remember
Life goes on
But not for a lost family member
Did one more death
Win the war?
Or was he just a casualty?
She wondered what for
She is gone now
Whispering his name at the end
We were not there
Flowers we did not send
She never saw the butterflies
Or heard the birds each day
She only thought of her son
Hoping through God he found his way
As I watch my own son
He smiles with his friends
I wonder about the flag
That seems to cover our sins
And how it was folded for her
Forever never to wave
Will it sit in a drawer?
Whose life will it save?
Can I offer him for our country?
As Abraham offered Isaac?
I cry as I feel the shame
It seems courage is what I lack
Did her son die in vain?
Will my son soon follow?
Or will I spit out
The patriotic pill others gladly swallow?
How can I comfort
A dead woman I never knew?
Tell me the answer
What should I do?
I ask you the same
What would you do?
There are no answers
You love your son too
So as we fall silent
I will pray over how she bled
Hoping never to see lips move
Telling me my son is dead*



Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
It's about D-Day.....
Jan 2012 · 867
Forbidden Love
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
Creativity has its own life
Longing to be free
It's something I must do
Though you may never see

Do these words mean I'm crazy?
It may be that I am
I just let my feelings show
But control myself, I can

You moved into another place
Between casual and intense
It begs for some attention
I'm just trying to make some sense

How should I act around you?
What am I allowed to say?
Our lovers would not understand
And assume we will wander away

I want to be close to you
We have a connection
But life says no for us
So I must accept its rejection

I want to know you
It's clear for you to see
You can be my friend
Are you thinking of me?

Maybe I'm being presumptious
Something I need to be told
Are you just being polite?
Am I being too bold?

I've thought more than this
It's hidden from your view
I want to tell you what I think
But can I trust you?

I can be your confidant
Your secret's safe with me
You'll never have to wonder
If I'll reveal for all to see

My age a curse
Yet equally a blessing
I may be too old for you
But I'll never keep you guessing

I give everything I have
Yet never lose control
I am not unemotional
I let my feelings roll

I know who I am
And sadness is part of life
I can live within it
I will remove the knife

It's because I believe in me
Regardless of who says what
I am very strong inside
No matter how deep the cut

But your beauty cannot be ignored
Even though that is what's required
My fantasy world, unrequieted but alive
Focuses on you, something to be admired

It may be you are appalled
You didn't ask for this
You have chosen your path
And wish to follow your bliss

Confusing as it can be
It's obviously the wrong time
It doesn't help your life in any way
I'll never say you're mine

True as this may be
I still think you're great
But I will leave you alone
And accept my life's fate

In a different world we can thrive
Seeing through our mind's eye
It doesn't have to be about the flesh
We will never have to lie

It may be that close friendship
Spiced with coy flirtations
Is all that we will ever have
No matter our inner sensations

It is ok for you to know
That I think you are so attractive
I will continue on with my life
And not be so reactive

But if you need to confide
And tell me what you think
I will gladly lend an ear
From the cup of honesty we will drink

Do not be afraid of closeness
Outside of your spoken vows
You can reveal yourself to others
It can be managed with what life allows

But it's back to the reality
Of what it all means
I'll go back to my world
And see you in my dreams
Just straight talk about that person you can see but cannot touch....
Jan 2012 · 3.1k
Inside You
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
I’m ready
To be inside you
Inside your life
Inside your mind
Inside your body

I’m ready
To feel you
Feel your life
Feel your mind
Feel your body

I want your passion
Let me give you mine
When you look at me
Can you hear my mind?

Can you?
I am calling for you
I will set you free
As no other man can do

I’m ready
To join you
Join your life
Join your mind
Join your body

I want your passion
Let me give you mine
When you look at me
Can you feel my mind?

Can you?
I'm going crazy for you
I will set you free
As you dreamed I would do

Yes I am the answer
I am no longer a fantasy
I am the man you want
What's real will be our ecstasy

I want to look deep inside
I want to see who you are
I want you to let me go inside
Where no man has been before

I’m ready
To love you
Love your life
Love your mind
Love your body

Yes I want to make love to you
All day and all night
Yes I want to make love to you
Your fire I will ignite

I’m ready baby
Can you let go?
I’m ready baby
I’m telling you so
I’m ready baby
Will you hold back?
I’m ready baby
This is no act

Let me whisper
And tell you what I want
Let me whisper
And tell you what I will do
Let me whisper
So you can forget your fears
Let me whisper
And tell you how beautiful you are
Let me whisper
And tell you how you make me feel
Let me whisper
I will never hold back
Let me whisper
And tell you I love you
Let me whisper
Until my voice drowns in our passion

I’m ready
To be inside you
Will you take me in?
Will you take my life?
Will you take my mind?
Will you take my body?
Will you?
I’m ready*


Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
Another half full glass, loud talkin' times
My friends together, speaking in rhymes
Full of ourselves, wearing our pride
It's just another night when everybody lied

Times are good and life is great
My mind does not know its coming fate
Suddenly someone tells me "you need to see the view"
I turned to see the sunset and all I saw was you

I turned to see the sunset and all I saw was you
The colors of the sun framed what was so true
An angel from heaven appeared out of the blue
Now, I'll never stop, until you say I do

I stood alone not knowing what to do
Your eye I tried to catch with a long look at you
You seemed to notice me but in a fleeting way
All I could think was don't let her get away

My feet started walking, my mind was a mess
Your beauty all I see, covered by your dress
We are near each other, you have an expectation
I have your interest, no time for hesitation

I turned to see the sunset and all I saw was you
The colors of the sun framed what was so true
An angel from heaven appeared out of the blue
Now, I'll never stop, until you say I do

Small talk drifts, panic setting in
I must keep her interest or she won't be my friend
Romance my want, your love for me only
My words are honest, you'll never be lonely

It seems my mind is what you admire
My words are setting your needs on fire
We can leave together or pledge to meet again
Now has come the time to let love in

You aren't just a moment
You are a lifetime
How can I win you over?
How can I make you mine?

I turned to see the sunset and all I saw was you
The colors of the sun framed what was so true
An angel from heaven appeared out of the blue
Now, I'll never stop, until you say I do
Some country lyrics I wrote about seeing a beautiful woman at a bayside bar....
Jan 2012 · 1.3k
I'm Going to Die Someday
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
When I came back
The strange was all I knew
It was my day and night
I thought, “They no longer know you”
But do I know them?
It seems I do not
It takes a God
To understand what a human cannot

~I know it’s true
I’m going to die someday
There’s only a few more hours
Looks like I’ll make it through the day~

When I came down
I tried to talk about it
But nobody understood

~I woke up this morning
Just like I thought I might
Now I’m wondering again
Just like I did last night~

One day you’ll turn your heart around
And your veins will stop the burning madness
And as you let the flowers in your garden grow
The butterflies will begin to ride the cool breeze

~Yes it’s true
I’m going to die someday
I wonder if anyone will remember
It’s so easy to forget yesterday~

When I walked away
I tried to sing about it
But they wouldn’t listen

~I don’t like thinking about it
I’m not sure why I do it so much
It seems everyone’s laughing
But I know that’s just a crutch~

One day you’ll turn your mind around
And your thoughts will turn to gladness
And as you let the soft winds blow
Your children play in the caressing seas

~I don’t like to pretend
I know life isn’t fair
It’s something I dwell on
My ego is no longer there ~

When I woke up
I tried to lay back down
But they wouldn’t let me

~I live in the waiting room
While others run free
I have to take things on faith
There’s not enough time to see~

One day you’ll turn your life around
And your pain will turn to forgiveness
And as you let the world around you know
You finally fall to your knees

~Everyone is a seeker
But is it for God or themselves?
They know not what they do
They reject the fishes and loaves~

What I thought
I tried to forget
But they kept talking

~Did I listen to my Mother?
She tried to give me a key
I could only lock her out
It was only about me~

One day you’ll finally come around
And your actions will turn from selfishness
And as you let the love inside you show
You finally beg her please

~I used to hate work
Now it’s where I live
It makes me feel safe
As long as they like what I give~

When I ran
I tried to slow down
But they wouldn’t stop

~I see denial all around
As people swallow their mortality
It kind of makes me wonder
How they can ignore reality~

One day you’ll turn your heart around
And your mind will stop its restlessness
And as you let the calm inside you flow
The sign on you finally says peace

~Where did I go wrong
Or am I in the right?
It’s so hard to know
I’ll never be Christ-like~

When I came back
The strange was all I knew
It was my day and night
I thought, “They no longer love you”
But do I love them?
It seems I cannot
Sometime it takes a God
To love what a human will not
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
"Hey good lookin' can I buy you a drink?"

A Shakespearean muse cannot alas venture forth upon the fragrance of allure

"***? Are you high?"

Love is my intoxication and thus I've become an 18th century daffodil who shall remain chaste and true

"Dude! You got to hear this whack chick over here. Offer her a drink"

"Hey gorgeous... let me buy you a round! What are you drinking?"

I drink from the wine of discretion and allow its strength to escort me on as a golden fleece protecting virtue, honor and consequence

"*******! Dude! You weren't kidding. This chick is out there!"

"Hey Aphrodite... but why are you out alone with all your friends? Where's Zeus or whoever?

He rides the wings of Pegasus looking for our land of plenty while his heart resides next to mine in a dance of promise and expectation

"Well if it was me I'd be right here because I'd never leave you alone"

The heart cannot be bound by another; it must be allowed to roam free in the wilds testing it's will and only then can one know if love is fleeting or everlasting

"**** babe, whatever you're on I want a case...."

Search your heart for your true self; it is not an acquisition but a dormant flower waiting for you to shed your false notions of manhood and prideful restraint

"Ohhh kaaayyy." Good luck with that sweetie... I think my friends are leaving."

The hard part is to say it with a straight face....
Jan 2012 · 535
The Only Thing
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
The only thing that touched you
Were my eyes
As your life neared mine
The pain of separation
Was borne
By my arms
My hands
My mind
My heart
Pain born of silence
My voice
Trapped
Within the fear
Of rejection
Yet I could not look away
And for a moment
My life
Became a vision
The only thing that mattered
Were what my eyes saw
In you
As I watched
You walked
As I watched
You breathed
As I watched
You left
The only thing that mattered
Was your pain
Hidden
Behind your smile
But did you notice?
My mind... pacing
My heart... racing
My life... changing
The only thing you noticed
Were my eyes touching you
Was that not enough?
Or did you need my voice?
My arms?
My hands?
My heart?
My life?
To believe you are beautiful?*


Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Just a man lusting after a woman walking by.....
Jan 2012 · 631
Journey of the Damned
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
In her mind’s eye she saw God walking towards her
So sure of it she began to give him all the glory
Life to her became a game of lost and found
She believed even though men wrote the story

“Follow me,” she said, “I know the ways of the Lord”
She had chosen her path and now wished to tell
She loved me so much she cried over my soul
She said, “The road you’re on surely leads to hell”

My spirit cries for an answer
But the birds always fly away as the roots dig deeper
They are unsure of branches that sway in the wind
They thirst for the brook of desire ****** by the Lord’s keeper

The eyes of the sun rise each day with renewed hope
Tempting me with wide-eyed assurance
In the mind of a zealot there are no more questions
The answers have been chosen for deliverance

The voices of the past continue to haunt our thoughts
Yet the dead remain mute leaving us with our own cries
We read their words and wait for a stillborn prophecy’s birth
As the day ends the sun laughs through our burnt eyes

The floor rises as each page is ripped from the book of life
She silently watches as I open the dam of my own desires
What piper can play two songs when only one can be heard?
We await the decision as we choose the one our heart requires

Can I ever believe
What I cannot see?
Can I ever see
What I cannot hear?
Can I ever hear
What I cannot feel?
Can I ever feel
What I cannot believe?
Should I take my own life
Because I am doomed?
What life is it
That is a journey for the ******?



Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona.
Jan 2012 · 638
After You've Gone
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
~You touched me physically
And made me cry out
But your words touched me spiritually
And emotionally
And the impression remains
Long after you’ve gone~
Jan 2012 · 598
The Instant
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
And as we part
Has time ever stopped
As when two arms extended
With finger tips touching
In the instant
Of a lifetime
That will forever be remembered
And cherished
More than the love making
Because in the sorrow of parting
The longing in our eyes
Is felt deeper
Than any touch
Or embrace
Or memory
For the moment
That I step out the window
Before gravity
Before reality
I fly
And live
As never before
And never again
Jan 2012 · 2.7k
A Virtual Life
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
Virtual life isolation is considered VIP seating as all who may enter are pre-screened in a self-preservation dance of solipsism as strained honesty pours from my fingers onto the digital RGB floor only to harden intermingled with the lives of dissonant strangers who reciprocate eagerly in revealing their weaknesses in a prosaic waltz across a frozen dreamscape where our misunderstood inner souls are reflected back to us as they float in monolithic mass on top of the depths of final judgment. Rather than providing final victory to the daily control alternate delete lather rinse repeat boot of my innermost fantasies and trauma which are as random as my physical interactions it seems recently and most superficially I was moved to speak of a self-assured young woman cleverly drawing confidence off the bottom of the deck while casually discarding competence who is triumphantly opening a high-end eatery of sorts but with time I find she is only the manager and after all prefers not to talk business because my questions have exhausted her ego-infested opening line as she stuffed her face with samples of diabolical confections soon to be marketed under the guise of pretentious cuisine for the beautiful people as we exhaust ourselves each day enduring the ambitious one-dimensional high-riser who wishes for depth never seen or heard in personal conversation but now the standard error of his own estimate deviates from the arrogantly leveled but just plain wrong command uttered in disdain to those who have actually lived with the people represented by mooted numbers begging to be deleted and yet I remain challenged by a life-long puzzle as I try not to make eye-contact but somehow still absorb the possible useful loaves and fishes of the God-fearing seeker of salvation that has been promised and now must be advertised as available in a never-ending give away as long as I humble myself in the prescribed manner neither to the left or right but squarely as King James promised he understood but on the other channel the drones of war which made prophetic the words of the old general who lamented the possible obsolescence of heroism and cowardice reminding of a futuristic movie as it now seems I am cheering for the death star or possibly the machines that travel time back in order to **** the very person who would bring soul forward to remind the company that people and not profits are what God allows through the eye of the needle. In spite of all this my smiling children know I love them deeply and there is no place that pain can be so welcome as in my heart to suffer willingly and openly until they are able to look at me and understand my ways and my decisions which may never be fully communicated because if God does shockingly exist then the revelation of truth will be delivered when they finally open the box that contains their thinking minds and the mysteries that may require further illumination. In a rush for meaning the virtual tour of all that touches my life is completed without fanfare and yet I cannot know who or what I am other than a mad ball of pain and confusion masquerading as a competent oar in the river of legal tender which I continue to worship as the answer to all manner of doubt.
Just some musing after another happy hour of phony's.....
Jan 2012 · 1.0k
Pain Grows Well In This Soil
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
The rows were plowed once again
Sowing the seeds of bitterness
The tears dug deep this time
They forgot about tenderness
I let it happen
The fields awaited
A meadow
A mountain
Death
Heartache
It’s all the same
What is meant to be
Is meant to be
And what will die
And what will grow
Will soon depart
As always
And another tear
Will dig deeper than before
Because pain
Grows well in this soil


Copyright 2012. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Jan 2012 · 696
Unholy Forgiveness
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
I can’t do it
Not like you want me to
I’m not a God
I’m mortal just like you
I loved you once
I needed you like air
But then you changed
You became a lion in its lair
You controlled my thoughts
You controlled my fate
My heart turned on you
My love turned to hate
Then one day I left
I may have saved your life
Evil had its suggestions
About a gun and a knife
Maybe you knew this
As you heard it in my voice
My mind turned to madness
I had no other choice
But now calm breezes blow
Just like when we met
You said God brought us together
You said let us not forget
But it was time
That softened my emotions
I traveled alone
But I am unable to walk on oceans
I thought of holiness
And the words of Jesus
I wondered about humans
And if he did deceive us
What are we capable of
After a journey into darkness?
How can I love someone
Who is no longer my princess?
Am I to forgive
And forget
When tomorrow awaits
With further regret?
How can I forgive
What I cannot trust?
How can I love
What a commandment says I must?
I read the words
Of the stern rubric
But I am a failure
I cannot play the music
In the unholiness of my offer
I can only give you this
I will never hurt you
But I cannot offer a kiss
You must let me go
And realize what I say
You may believe in God
But my sin does not pray
The decision has been made
You are forgiven
But I will walk into the fire
Because today only Jesus has risen



Copyright 2012. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
What is true forgiveness? Losing your anger or do you have to fall back in love?
Jan 2012 · 2.0k
Hurry Up and Kiss Me
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
Looks like she's comin' around here again
It's been so long I can't remember when
I wonder if she just wants to be my friend
Or is she gonna' take my heart out for a spin?

You know, it really don't matter to me
It's not like there's another girl I want to see
But I hope she doesn't bring up that memory
Just come on in and what will be will be

Hurry up and kiss me
Before I change my mind
Make me close my eyes
It's better if love is blind
Hurry baby hurry
Kiss me right away
Hurry up and kiss me
Before I change my mind

Are you gonna' run my life again?
Love me hard like it's never gonna end
Then pick that scar that won't ever mend
I wonder what kind of message she's gonna send

Hurry up and kiss me
Before I change my mind
Make me close my eyes
It's better if love is blind
Hurry baby hurry
Kiss me right away
Hurry up and kiss me
Before I change my mind

The drinks are going down like I knew they would
I'm ready to love you like I never could
But that memory makes me wonder if I'm thinkin' straight
I wonder if maybe I ought to wait

C'mon baby kiss me
I'm tired of all this thinking
C'mon baby kiss me
Kiss me and keep drinking
Kiss me baby kiss me
You won't want to leave
C'mon baby kiss me
Hurry up and make me believe

Hurry up and kiss me
Before I change my mind
Make me close my eyes
It's better if love is blind
Hurry baby hurry
Kiss me right away
Hurry up and kiss me
Before I change my mind





COPYRIGHT 2011. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. MARK LECUONA
These are song lyrics... kinda of Stones vibe... sorry if that's old school....
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
A poet can feel your pain
And express his own
He has an opinion
And will stand alone
He will tell of things
He thinks in the night
He only cares
About what is right
He will make you think
About life and who you are
It may be painful
It may open a scar
You will know by his words
That his mind does burn
And even if you disagree
You will soon return
Because he will tell you
The truth as only he can
And in this world of rhyme
Only the strong will stand

A few months ago
I knew we would speak
As I thought about this
I imagined what I would say
To a roomful of children
That I’d never met before
It was 2:00 AM and I couldn't sleep
So I jumped up and wrote most of this on the spot
Just so you know
I’m not a professional speaker
But I am a person
Just like you
And I know how I feel about things
I started writing because I became tired of war
And because I want my children to know how I think
So I’m here to talk about poetry
I view poetry as a combination of art and opinion/experience
But in reality
I'm here to talk about life
Your teachers are helping you
They are giving you the tools you need
So you can take care of yourself as an adult
They teach you English and Spanish
And Math and Science
But these are just like a hammer
Or a saw or a drill
They are in your tool chest
You know…
In your mind
I like to call it the braided mind
Because it's a blend or a braid of three things
The Intellectual
The emotional
The spiritual
And as a child you are trying to develop these things
I think being a poet can help
In my opinion most failures are due to emotional immaturity
It seems that school typically concentrates on the intellectual
But the emotional side is very important
And you need to develop this too
So I have a question for you
And I find the answer to this question to be very important
It helps as you interact with people
It helps you be a true poet
Can you put yourself in another person's shoes?
Can you UNDERSTAND their problems?
What about this question?
Can you accept the truth even if it conflicts with everything you believe?
That’s a tough one
I have two other questions
Do you have a need to be cool?
Are you a trend-setter or are you trendy?
I used to worry about stuff like that
The answers to these questions involve lessons of maturity
That's why I ask
I know it is difficult to go against the grain
To stand alone in a mob
It is a huge personal challenge
So what is it about emotional maturity that involves poetry?
It can teach to think for yourself
To be unswayed by the wrong thing
Even if everyone else disagrees with you
The poet offers his true feelings without regard to criticism
You are the poet
You are not affected by mere opinion
You are affected by truth
Here is another question
How do you feel about life?
Because we want to know
Because you are the poet
We want you to make us see what you see
With words
We want you to make us feel what you feel
With words
If you can think like this
And open your mind to the things around you
Then you will always feel alive
This is the way I try to think
And because of this I am never bored
I didn’t say I wasn’t boring!
I said I am never bored
Because my mind is always feeling things
And then I communicate
The ability to effectively communicate is critical
That is why you study the rules of language
But what are you going to do
With what you have learned?
There are so many possibilities
But what you have to know
Is that nothing is impossible
Look at me
I’m 53 years old
That’s probably pretty old to you
And it sounds old to me too
Just the other day
I received an offer for senior citizens
Senior citizens!
Like my life was over or something
But look at me
I’m here talking to you
It's because I decided I wanted to speak out
I wanted to be a poet
And I started down that road four years ago
So I was already old when I started something new
But look at you
You are young
Is it too early for you?
Like some say it’s too late for me?
NO!
You can start now
You can start thinking
You can start being who you are
But will you dare
Or will you worry about what someone may think?
Understand what I am saying
I’m not talking about doing what you want
So you can hurt someone
Or cheat your way through life
Or disrupt your teacher
I’m talking about being who you are
And not being afraid
Being tough
But not stubborn
Being able to care
But not obsessing
Being able to forgive
But not being easy
Being wise
But not arrogant
So what about poetry?
Do you think that men write poetry?
Do you think that men have feelings?
Do you think that men can make rhymes?
You better believe it
Because men feel things like women do
We all do
We can be mad
But don’t stay mad
That’s the secret
We can feel sorrow
But don’t stay sorrowful
It’s a matter of understanding why
Why do you feel that way
Then deal with it
Because if you deal with it
Then you own it
Then you control it
So it doesn’t control you
When I am sad or mad
I don’t just fall apart
But I don’t deny the feelings either
Sometimes we carry these feelings with us
And they eat away at our insides
Why?
Because we don’t really confront them
We let them sit there
Ready to pounce
So how do you do control that?
For me that’s where writing comes in
I try to express what it is that I am feeling
Then I write about it
And it becomes easier and easier
Why?
Because it’s my true self
I know myself
I know how I feel
So I tell myself
Then I tell you
And when I am willing to tell somebody
That’s when the magic starts to happen
Now… I feel things
But it’s not always about me
Sometimes it’s about someone else
There is something philosophers call a priori
That means you can see something that is true
Without having to experience it for yourself
And when you can feel that pain
Without experiencing it yourself
Then that’s called empathy
That’s when you put their shoes on
That’s when you know about their life
Then you realize they are real
Just like you
And then that’s when you can speak
About others
About right and wrong
Because then you don’t have to wait
Until it happens to you
Because what kind of life is that
Just waiting for something bad to happen
To you
Before you care
Maybe you are already angry
Maybe you aren’t popular
Maybe you’ve been picked on
What should you do?
Pick a fight?
Steal something?
Do something wrong?
No!
Think about Martin Luther King
He was made to feel less than a man
He didn’t have the rights others had
Just because of the color of his skin
He was humiliated
Do you know what that word means?
Do you know how that feels?
To be intensely made fun of
Or ridiculed
But what did he do?
He stood up for what is right
He used his anger wisely
He didn’t strike back
But he was not meek
He stood up and said
That is wrong
And he knew he would be hated
He knew he would be in danger
But that anger became the fuel
For greatness
And change in mankind
And he did not strike a blow with his fists
He just walked and sat
Where he was told he could not
He turned the other cheek
But he held his ground
And he won
Because they knew he was right
And what is right never loses
It just takes someone to say
It’s time to be right
What about Gandhi?
He was a small man
He was one man
Like Martin Luther King
Gandhi was a lawyer
But you don’t have to go to law school to understand
But to instinctively know about right and wrong
Means to know in your heart
Nobody has to tell you
You don’t have to read it in a book
You just know
And he knew
But he didn’t strike a blow
He just walked and sat
Where he was not allowed
And he became a great man
So what does this all mean?
It means you can think now
It means you can know now
It means that you can stand up
For right and against what is wrong
Because when you do
You will become very powerful
People will respect you
Some will fear you
I’m not saying walk around pointing fingers
But I am saying stand up for yourself
Don’t be swayed
Don’t let someone convince you otherwise
You are ready to be a leader
For good
Why not today?
But you do not have to wait
For something to happen
You can write about it now
You have your mind open
Remember
I’m not too old to live
And you’re not too young to live
So we both will express our feelings
And become poets
Because there is a dignity to this
It teaches you to be human
And to be alive
In any situation
Regardless of where you are
Or who you are with
Because life suddenly has meaning
In every moment
And you can be a part of each moment
If you let yourself be
Will you?
There is another challenge
Accepting truth
Sounds easy
But it’s not
To be a truth-seeker
You must be willing to be open minded
You must be willing to change
No matter what
Because the truth is the truth
It doesn’t care what you believe
It lives in its own world
To be a poet
You must be free
You must be willing to speak
About truth
Not to make yourself look good
Or to justify yourself
But for the sake of truth only
There is nothing like it
They say it can set you free
And it is true
I know it to be true
Because in my life
When I was honest
Not in a hurtful way
But in a compassionate way
Then I was able to be free mentally
Free of worries
Free of burdens
Because there was nothing to hide
And I knew I was in control
Of my mind
And nobody can brainwash me
I will listen
And I will consider what you say
But I won’t automatically believe it
Just because it’s on TV
Or the internet
Or because somebody said it loudly
Loud doesn’t mean right
Loud just means loud
So to be a true poet
You have to tell us what you really think
That means tell us the truth about your feelings
No matter what it is
Because when we read truth
From someone’s heart
We are drawn in
Because that is a rare thing in this world
It’s not a matter of making rhymes
It’s a matter of life
And people crave honesty
And sincerity
And courage
Tell us about fear
About sadness
About joy
About sorrow
Are you ready?
Inspiration has its own clock
And when you feel these things
Your pen will know what to do
This is what we want
From you
Can you do it?




Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Jan 2012 · 3.5k
I Am A Whisper
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
I'm not a person of color
I'm not gay
I'm not rich
I'm not homeless
I'm not religious
I'm not an atheist

I am a whisper

I'm not old
I'm not young
I'm not famous
I'm unknown

I am a whisper

I may be helpless
But I am not numb
I may be shackled
But I will not lie still

I am a whisper

I have an opinion
I have thoughts
I have feelings
I have a voice

I am a whisper

I have a memory
I have hope
I have a fantasy
I have a dream

I am a whisper

I give freedom
I will not judge
I will not control
I will not hurt

I am a whisper

I don't believe you
Why must I listen?
Why do you want my mind?
Why do you want control?

I am a whisper

I see what happens
I know who is suppressed
I know you are buying time for yourself
I know you need to fool me

I am a whisper

I am in your way
I am an impediment
I am a risk
I am to be mitigated

I am a whisper

It needs to be shouted
It needs to be aggressive
It needs to shock
It needs to awaken

I am a whisper

I see the fear tactics
I see the power
I see the judgements
I see the ridicule

I am a whisper

I know you are a liar
I know you are evil
I know you will ****
I know you will destroy

I am a whisper

I know these things
What can I do?
I can only write
I can only feel the anger

I am a whisper

"Who is lying?"
They are
"Who would ****?"
They would
"Who would send your child off to war?"
They would
"Who are they?"
The one's who want your vote

I am a whisper

"What about your children?"
There is still time
"What about my children?"
There is still time

I am a whisper

Would a man **** for God?
What do you think?
Would a man **** for his flag?
What do you think?
Would a man **** for his party?
What do you think?
Would a man **** who has been fooled?
What do you think?
Would a man let you die in his place?
What do you think?

I am a whisper

"Why do you whisper?"
I'm not
"You say you are"
Can anyone hear me?
"I can"
Can anyone else?
"No"

I am a whisper

"Why won't you shout? "
I am afraid
Afraid of what?
Of losing my job
Of losing my children
Of losing my life

I am a whisper

"Who are you afraid of?"
A person
A book
True believers
Non-believers
The enemies are all around

I am a whisper

"Why are they enemies?"
They do not want me
They want me to be them
They want my mind
They want my actions
They want my life

I am a whisper

So I work
So I pray
So I smile
So I agree
So I submit
So I bend
So I die

I am a whisper

Is existence on the other side of a laugh?
Is existence in the void of silence?
Is existence in the breath of a whisper?
Is existence in the quiet of God's spirit?

I am a whisper

When God is silent
Even a whisper can be too loud
Silence is the empty room
No color
No artifact
No sound

I am a whisper

Listen to the whisper
Then listen to God
Then you will know
Because you dared to speak
You forgot to think

I am a whisper

Blessed are the peacemakers
Did you remember this?
Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone
Did you remember this?
Turn the other cheek
Did you remember this?
Love thy neighbor
Did you remember this?
Judge not lest you be judged
Did you remember this?

I am a whisper


Copyright 2010. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Jan 2012 · 1.8k
Where Do You Stand?
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
Do you want to read it from him, a name you barely recognize
The one who passed long ago with whom you can cannot empathize
In a language you do not comprehend, even if it’s the one you speak
The one that trips your tongue, with words caught in your beak
Do you want to read it from me, the one you do not know
For how can it be relevant when it’s a charlatan who says so?
I will not stand on the shoulders of giants to make you cower
Instead we are eye to eye so you will feel the myths I devour
You won’t utter a word I say from memory because it was important
As you have done so many times with the words that you really want
Not so much because of what they say but rather because of whom
Whose memory is preserved with your approval, his book in your room
Are there no new lessons for you, even if you do not know the mistakes
That loom in your sterile mind which pride knows but foolishly makes
Can your desire for anything but thought be overcome by imploring words?
How does it feel to be trampled when you invited the lost thundering herds?
What error is so grave yet so shallow that you pretend it was as intended?
What day frivolously discarded is so unfulfilling that your worth was rescinded?

Which smile is it today my friend that drifts across your life not knowing when
Yes not knowing when it is appropriate to remain and when it is time to end
Have you received your mark, the one you may well deny some day?
Can you erase it as surely as it was placed, so carefully as you lay?
And yet you do not even know of what I speak yet see so clearly in you
All your beliefs and fears hardening to protect the heart you never knew
You gave it no chance, because what you heard was not what they meant
It grew so fast you had no choice but to endure as your life was spent
Can you imagine yourself doing what it is that I could possibly describe
Even before you know anything except everything you’ve ever felt inside?
Can you make the decision to venture away from everything you’ve believed
If I could prove that it was wrong from the moment it was ever conceived?
Could you believe that the seed was planted with you in mind all the time
And that your anonymity could not conceal you from the idea of their crime?
The one against humanity brought to bear on you alone to suffer endlessly
Because you could only think to follow in the comfort of living callously?

Where is it that you stand, does it provide you the comfort of your worth?
You want what you are not and you deny the truth of your birth
Are you in discomfort because there is nothing here that I have stolen?
Because there is no list of obscure legends in the web I have woven?
The is no reference to the things I say, they are all mine to offer
In time maybe after I am gone you will know that I care how you suffer
But in the instance of these things that I bring to your labored attention
I tell you now that all you can be and all that you are not is my intention
And to think that life is a game to a bitter end of useless knowledge
You can live now, larger than before if you would only acknowledge
That you are the discovery worth pursuing and not what you know of others
For they have their culture and it is time not to join but to leave pretended brothers
For they know you are not about them but about wanting to be like them
In time you will know that you will never be like them because you are not of them
The truth for you to discover are the questions if you can bear to read
For you to discover that what you believe is another man’s creed

And so what national interest is worth the life of a child in forgotten wars?
And so what profit motive is worth the cause of conflict within our shores?
And so what going concern is worth a precious mind that cannot find relief?
And so what flag is worth the pain of a mother's unending grief?
And so what God sets in motion the cause of savage genocide?
And so what mandate sanctions the destruction of an indigenous tribe?
And so who is insane, he who cries before or after the innocent are dead?
And so who is more worthy, he who rules the world or who is misled?
And so what moral code justifies the survival of technical superiority?
And so what certainty sends men to their deaths in the name of destiny?
And so what courage will it take to say, “Never again?”
And so what life will be sacrificed to end the devil’s reign?
And so when will two men with passionate minds come together?
And so why must we hate and cause heartache instead of loving one another?
And so what fail safe point exists to save humanity from our terrors?
And so what decision is rooted in a mistake carried by pall-bearers?
And so what history of life is to be sacrificed to rip a chapter from a book?
And so what memory of the past is unable to see because no one will look?
And so what pride of self is worth the disillusion in the idea of a nation?
And so what lost hope is worth the end of our soul’s salvation?
And so what fear is worth ignoring common decency?
And so what victory is worth torture for expediency?
And so what singular cause is worth the eclipse of those who bring light?
And so what man can decide to shred the Bill of Rights?

Where have all the flowers gone my friend, a nation weeps for you
All we have are words, promises that were never true
A spoken myth passed on, change, a faraway place
Each person longing with nothing but a blank face
The petals wander alone, searching for a stem
Unable to join together, always asking when?
The plow destroyed the garden, war, the hand on the till
We, with our faded memories, take refuge in a pill
The vultures glide above us, silently seeking their prey
We, unknowing, flounder, grasping at honor as we play
Our hearts confront the horror, inviting the bullet home
Take us from this place, it is better to allow our mind to roam
The shores of your mother’s intentions for you are under your feet
Return to your ship or allow the transformation to be complete
In the Diaspora of every emotion you’ve ever felt and denied
The answer lies waiting, but do you know who told the truth and who lied?




COPYRIGHT 2012. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. MARK LECUONA

— The End —