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36.0k · Mar 2015
Loyalty
Mark Lecuona Mar 2015
I want to be loyal to you
But not to the color of your skin
Or where your ancestors have been
I only want to know if your heart is true

And if it is kind to another
I will know you to be my friend
And my heart will finally let you in
Because you will no longer be a stranger
22.3k · Jan 2015
Mistakes
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
We all live with our mistakes; it may take a long time to overcome but the mistake we refuse to pay is the one that becomes who we are.
10.1k · Mar 2012
Hijab
Mark Lecuona Mar 2012
She covers for God
Not you
Are you worthy
Of her will to be true?
To the word
As it is written
Not of man
But begotten
Into the cradle
Of our existence
Heard by those
Who lower their resistance
To what is holy
Not on earth
But in heaven
Where a woman’s worth
Is measured
By the blessing
Of her womb
Life-giving and supporting
Each new creation
Equally touched
By the unseen
But untouched
By sin
Until the apple is offered
By the bare flesh
To our sons and daughters
Yes she suffers
Behind the cloak
Of piousness
Wearing its yoke
Until the strength
Of one man’s soul
Reveals itself
To make her whole
As it was intended
For man and woman
But not before
He has proven
His understanding
That a hijab
Is not weakness
But God’s robe
Which he dare part
To find paradise
In the strength
He saw in her eyes
Written for a Muslim friend of mine in Indonesia....
10.0k · Jan 2012
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....
9.6k · Oct 2014
Homeless
Mark Lecuona Oct 2014
What can be believed living in the street?
He could only find peace
From the pages covering his feet
While those with good mothers fight
Over who’s wrong and who’s right
The corner dust forms a memorial
On a vacant Victorian seat

Their words died before they became deeds
Nothing mattered of his past
It could not fill his needs
He tried not think of her
There was nothing he could offer
Through his piercings he bled
But there was no water for his seeds

He looked to the heavens for paintings
But dreams in cloudless skies
Cannot be imagined when it’s raining
The corner was his
But it’s no place to live
Our faces are the measure of his worth
For he knows who he is displeasing
5.9k · Mar 2015
The Conquered
Mark Lecuona Mar 2015
On side of mountain down
or washed upon idol shore
Armed with kingly crown
and book by which they swore
No matter how long ago
they remember their dreams
because of reflective echos
from saddened streams
Some may float
while others sink
but no matter your coat
we thirst the same drink
Those who slept in the hold
covered by prayers that weep
wondered why they were sold
and who would their souls keep
I see what you see
though we are not agreed
I will forever set them free
and love no matter their seed
5.3k · Jan 2015
Your Dreams My Reality
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
You dream of love
And fantasy
I cannot any longer
Because of reality
My face is shadowed
By a memory
While yours glows
From your insanity
The insanity of passion
And the sexuality
Imbedded in a promise
Of fidelity
And a lifetime
Of matrimony
Yes I am past that
But I speak honestly
About life
As a casualty
Of love
And adultery
But I need to believe
In love for me only
But if you cannot
Then let me be lonely
An older man talking to a younger woman
5.3k · May 2012
The Gangster Nurse
Mark Lecuona May 2012
“I had to make something of myself”
He had tattoos and a shaved head
His past was more than a memory
It was a life that that almost left him for dead
As I let him stick the needle in
I felt no pain while I measured his pride
My indifference was for a moment forgotten
As I considered his leap across the great divide

“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps”
Mere words spoken easily on a sunny day
Should a man define himself by his possessions
Or the distance traveled to find his way?
The gates of hell were made known to me
As the pardoned ghetto rat walked my way
In his calm moment he spoke as if he had seen God
And reminded of the blessings we throw away

“Honor your mother and your father”
His child wanted to climb only one family tree
He carried the mark of brown and white
And wondered which one he should be
But there is no choice to make
It is the life of a half-breed
And the gangster nurse knew
The pain his choices would breed

“Oh so now you’re too good for us”
His future was as uncertain as his past
But in the wisdom of the violence he had vanquished
He knew it was time to stop the legacy at last
The man with the face of America’s fear
Said goodbye to the people who had his back
In his hands were the eyes looking for a father
And in his words was the courage that I lack
4.9k · Aug 2015
the book of choice
Mark Lecuona Aug 2015
which man has saved us from a dystopian future;
where each one of us must decide between good
and evil without fear of punishment from the camera
lens or laws that have become as onerous upon our
lives as a world without any law at all; which man
would be genius enough to survive his own evil

no matter the height of our intellectual achievements,
it is the emotional strain of one life in one world that
cannot care no matter how much we pray beyond
gravity’s last remaining outposts that lays waste to
souls that beg to be equal among beings made in an
image that has not been defined but merely assumed

when tears are no longer welcome as before and
when anger serves the strong well, then will the
light know to assume it’s place in the darkness which
hides from the absence of the knowing, undefined
by Gods or beasts that live in the depths choking
on sinks of man’s glorious quest for immortality

if one man knows of the legend if not each jot of
the law then would the spirit hover above his heart;
must he decide between living as a depraved knave
or martyred by unrecorded history, unfathomed
by meaning or the depths that have no end except
his will to suffer for what he once knew to be true?
4.8k · Jun 2015
Never Lose That Day
Mark Lecuona Jun 2015
You know me
I'm like you in many ways
It's only a matter of taste for the details
But I feel what you feel
You don't have to impress me
Or be the prettiest girl in the room
I don't want you at your best all time
We can't live together like that
I just want you to live near where my mind Iives
To understand my neighborhood
And the things that are pressing down upon me
I only need a bit of room to find myself
Or at least to remind myself who it is I'm trying to be
It's not that I can't be myself
It's just that I'm trying to be who I want you to be
Or maybe I'm trying not to expect so much of you
I just want things to be peaceful between us
I want you to be able to take care of what is important to you
And to live the life that is right for you
And if that means we cannot be lovers
Then let us part as friends
And if we see each other again
Let us remember there was a time when we saw something in each other
And it was enough to make us dream
Let us never lose that day
4.0k · Mar 2012
I Don't Understand
Mark Lecuona Mar 2012
I don’t understand
****** for power
I don’t understand
Complaint without solution
I don’t understand
Ego without accomplishment
I don’t understand
Action without reason
I don’t understand
Judgment without experience
I don’t understand
Advancement without merit
I don’t understand
Worship without thought
I don’t understand
Belief without proof
I don’t understand
Love without kindness
I don’t understand
Want without need
I don’t understand
Talk without meaning
I don’t understand
Celebrity without talent
I don’t understand
A white lie
I don’t understand
Falsehood without challenge
I don’t understand
Might over right
I don’t understand
Beauty without soul
I don’t understand
Law from faith
I don’t understand
Victory at all costs
I don’t understand
An end by any means
I don't understand
Commerce over spirituality
I don't understand
Greed over giving
I don’t understand
Hurting a child
I don’t understand
Reward for failure
I don’t understand
Too big to fail
I don’t understand
The Virtue of Selfishness
I don’t understand
Too powerful to question
I don’t understand
Arrogance from vicarious pleasure
I don’t understand
Ambition without empathy
I don’t understand
The sale of loyalty
I don’t understand
Money over honor
I don't understand
Ignorance over education
I don't understand
Cheating
I don’t understand
Hate
I don't understand
Why the good die young
I don't understand
Do you?
3.9k · Mar 2012
A Mahatma Life
Mark Lecuona Mar 2012
It must be said
Once again
No matter how you tire
Of sin
And hopelessness
Where God lives
Is love
Understanding
Selflessness and wisdom
The Mahatma
Courage
Achievement
Humility
Without rank
Without ambition
Morality
Merit
Human
Determination
Dignity
Sacrifice
Pai­n
Patience
Kindness
Principle
Standards
Where oppression exists
There is no God
With power
Comes differences
Rank
Superiority
Predominance
Hierarchy
Religion
Patr­iotism
Nationalism
Jingoism
Legacy
Birthright
Force
Class
Pride
Privilege
Hypocrisy
Corruption
Humiliation
Indifference
Cr­uelty
Violence
War
All faiths
Should be considered equal
Before a God of all faiths
Acceptance
On Earth
You cannot **** God
By killing his believer
You cannot **** a believer
And be loved by God
No man or woman
Is subservient
To another
No man or woman
Is held above
Any other
All kneel before the maker
Worship
No man
No victory
No wealth
No fleeting beauty
Honor
Charity
Empathy
Tolerance
Diversity
Culture
Art
Just­ice
Freedom
Creativity
Fairness
Deference
Humanity
Where do you sit?
At the head of the table
Or at the foot?
What do you wish for?
Riches?
To be respected?
To be feared?
To be loved?
What do they say about you?
Do you know?
Do you care?
Are they fools
To be exploited?
Is life only for your gain?
Can you be trusted?
Can they count on you?
Or do you count on them
For your achievement?
For your glory?
For your power?
For your face to be carved in stone
Above men
And God?
Is that you?
Is that what you want?
I saw a picture of Mahatma Ghandhi with his arm around Jinnah... a Hindu and a Muslim.... it can be done.... the God I speak of has no name.... no religion... no proof....
3.7k · Jan 2015
Selma: The Bridge to Heaven
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
"Justice runs down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream"

Martin Luther King, Jr.

------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------

Brothers and sisters
Arm in arm
In grace
With faith
And agape love
Marched towards hate
And the steel of repression

     No door to heaven is easily opened
     Sometimes the only choice is to die
     Not quickly
     But slowly and painfully

The arc of justice bends under the weight of human sacrifice

They thought
"This is it for me"
Yes this was it
But it was time
Time for the signs to come down
The signs that said
     "You here"
          "You there"
               "Not for you"
                    "Sit in the back"

Separate but equal
A lie of monstrous proportion
There is no equality
When all is not shared
There is no equality
When a night stick crushes inalienable rights
There is no equality
When a child is called a __
There is no equality
When the love of Jesus
     Is not enough for some people
When the love of Jesus
     Is not enough for some hearts
When the love of Jesus
    Is not enough for grace on earth


Let me take a moment


To cry


To feel the shame


Let us take a moment


And understand why some among us remember Selma
A memory of pride and pain
A memory of the willingness to die
For what is right
To give up their life
To give up their complaints
To give up their selfishness
To give up what we take for granted
So that they might die
For someone else
Because it was time
I wrote this a few years ago... thought I'd dust it off....
3.7k · Sep 2015
Diversity
Mark Lecuona Sep 2015
It was a lovely tree
Green like a meadow all around
Bark as thick as pine cones
Ants crawling without a sound
Covered by birds of a feather
Whistling chirping  to each other
The sun and moon overhead
Taking turns from one another
Yes it was a lovely tree
Peaking above white plumes
Always looking for blue skies
And room to grow for its blooms
But it wasn’t long in the life of a tree
That its branches held aloft
Birds that seemed of another sort
Sometime landing not so soft
The air around it was free
But not so much the tree
Though it thought it was
Only the wind could really see
As each new bird took its place
Each tidal pass could only sigh
As storms of horizon shadows gathered
But a bird will perch no matter who may cry
There are only so many leaves
There are only so many ways to live
And as each feather sought its own
The tree wonders how long it can give
3.7k · Aug 2015
Identity
Mark Lecuona Aug 2015
How do you know who I am
Or what I stand for
I look ordinary
No dreadlocks
No paintings on my body
No rings piercing my ear
My eyes aren’t weary yet
My skin is white
I am educated
I have a piece of paper
I wear cotton clothes
Black pants
A clean shirt
I look like I am comfortable
That suffering is foreign to me
So what is it that I can say
When my identity is so plain?
But who must declare themselves openly?
Is it the man who has decided he has become all there is to be?
Is it the man who is unsure of the facts of life that he reads?
Is it the man who gives up his ambition to be what does not pay?
Is it the man who tells everyone the streets are where there are real men?
It is him who suffers most who becomes the angry man
It is him who becomes angry that is liberated
It is him who is liberated who can tell the truth
And so what do I tell you?
I am not him
I have no right to be angry
I have no right to be liberated
I have no right to tell the truth
Is that my identity?
No right to speak harshly of oppression
No right to speak harshly of poverty
No right to speak harshly of hunger
And it is true
I am not oppressed
I am not poor
I am not hungry
So I cannot pretend to be any of these things
I cannot pretend to have that connection
Who do I have the nerve to be?
So I spin a tale that I imagine of a life that I know exists
I think about what it would be like to watch an angry man
I think about what it would be like to watch a poor woman
I think about what it would be like to watch a migration
I think about what it would be like if I lost everything
I think about what it would be like to give everything away
Then I know
And I am ashamed
I know I would not survive
And so it is not because I am not poor
It is because I wouldn’t know how to live
Like they are able to live
Without hope
But with life
Without respect
But with pride
Without relevance
But with identity
Because they know who they are
The chosen ones
Who have the right
To smirk at those of us who visit the poor on a field trip
And then go home and forget
Forget them
While they remember us
The soulless ones
Without the knowing of anything
Without the knowing of how to live
Without the knowing of survival
Without the knowing of will
Without the knowing of who we are
3.6k · Feb 2015
A Free Spirit
Mark Lecuona Feb 2015
Nothing familiar is the answer
It is always someone you don’t understand
Finding meaning
Outside our own means
As if they have nothing to lose
And they don’t
They do not think of their parents
Or what they were taught
Except for facts
Warding off
Things that are unexplained
Strange
Scary
Secret societies
Dystopian
Cold
Every institution of man
Rejected
As man withdraws from convention
Stirring the drink
With a hint of every influence
Without burden of form
Changing course on a whim
Fully versed in possibility
Stopping along the way
Every corner
To explore
For days and days
Forgetting the mission
Except to learn
A being of discovery
Courageous failures
Skeptical of every word
Unless it is their own questions
Enduring shock
Smiles instead of fears
No sense of consciousness
The natural act of a man unafraid
Except his own existence
Because then he has to acknowledge yours
And though he loves you
He cannot just sit next to you
And watch flowers return to their rightful place
So you can grimly smile that what you always wanted
May only be counted in moments instead of days
That become years
Though each moment is what he wanted all along
Because time is nothing to consider
Except how much remains
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
3.4k · Mar 2017
A Holy Revolution
Mark Lecuona Mar 2017
The injustice
either hardens or breaks the human mind
The mind
must choose how to fight against the injustice
The choice
of non-violence is not a sign of weakness
The knowledge
of why you fight is more important than the fight
The strength
to suffer is the time between despair and triumph
The ability
to turn the other cheek is the holiest weapon
The act
of vengeance is the weakness of a human being
The love
for the wounded is the reason they follow you
The memory
of the dead is the passion to believe in the vision
The revolution
in you ends when you no longer hate a stranger
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.
3.4k · Feb 2012
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'?
3.3k · Feb 2015
Immigrant
Mark Lecuona Feb 2015
He supposed he should be grateful
For all that he needed was apparent
Air for life
Roads for travel
Water for drink
And dirt to remind him from where he came

He was not ashamed of his past
It was where all his dreams were born
He could ride a horse
Work with his hands
Love a woman
And live alone no matter by what name

He saw the people with sad faces
Even though they lived their dream
With new cars
Talking on phones
Beautiful homes
But they had already lost the game

They could never imagine love was enough
For a man who left his country for more
For his children
For his wife
For his mother
It is his will to be proud no matter how plain
3.3k · Sep 2014
Betrayal
Mark Lecuona Sep 2014
You let someone unworthy of your love make you feel
unworthy of any love. Yet you are making someone else
feel the same way because you won’t give them
a chance. But that person never seems to count.

You gave everything you had believing
in something. But then it was taken away
and given back and taken away again.
You thought it was the moon didn’t you?

It’s no wonder you are sad but you
believed what you heard. You didn’t wait
to see if it was real. You lived the dream and
still you don’t know how to wake up.

It’s a funny thing to be approached by someone
while you live your life and give them all the power.
A tree doesn’t stop making shade or shedding leaves
just because a new bird makes its home there.

Every field is plowed more than once so why
relive the past when each season is a new
memory if you’ll only be who you are. The heart
of the soil made for all of life is still yours to keep.
3.2k · Mar 2017
Really?
Mark Lecuona Mar 2017
He’s telling you I didn’t really love you
But really is all I can say
Really?
He don’t know I climbed out a window
He don't know what I know

He’s telling you I didn’t want to marry you
But really is all I can say
Really?
He don’t know how I saved you one night
He didn’t turn dark into light

Really?
How can he say that?
Really?
How can you listen to that?
Really?
You know better than that
Really?
I can’t believe you needed that

He’s telling you I didn’t care about you
But really is all I can say
Really?
He don’t know how you tried to **** me
He can’t forgive you like me

He’s telling you how long he’ll love you
But really is all I can say
Really?
He don’t know I’m strong enough to wait
He don’t know ******* a soul mate

Really?
How can he say that?
Really?
How can you listen to that?
Really?
You know better than that
Really?
I can’t believe you needed that
Song lyrics
3.2k · Jan 2015
Words Who We Are
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
Sadness
Weapons of mass destruction
Witness protection program
Mutually assured destruction
Plausible deniability
Too big to fail
Pre-emptive strike
The final solution
Master race
Total Spectrum Dominance
Untouchables
Genocide
Greed
Racism
Sexism
Homophobia
Ca­ncer
Hate

Hope
Blessed are the peacemakers
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you
Turn the other cheek
Judge not lest ye be judged
Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone
Sacrifice
Non-violence
Integration
Pacifism
Environmentalis­m
Empathy
Understanding
Tolerance
Equality
Cure
Love
3.1k · Jan 2012
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
3.0k · Jul 2016
On The Bench
Mark Lecuona Jul 2016
I can remember the flag waving against the respectful sky
We sat on the bench watching
The metallic sounds of its status played deftly by the wind
We sat on the bench listening
It is not good sometimes to see how they leave this place
We sat on the bench praying
But you saw the birth of your memories instead of their end
We sat on the bench remembering

The distance between his last breath and my birth an instant
I sat on the bench painfully
Yet I find myself wanting tomorrow to hurry up and arrive
I sat on the bench impatiently
I wanted to try to slow it down and the sun finally agreed
I sat on the bench slowly
The flag waved again filled by the wind his breath kept alive
I sat on the bench faithfully
From a day I remember sitting on a bench outside a nursing home where my father was living his last days
2.9k · Sep 2014
Watching As They Grow
Mark Lecuona Sep 2014
Like an abandoned creek bed
Hosting a river for a day
Or a desert sky
Screening a rain storm matinee
A parent will wait
No matter time passing
With a heart that remembers how
When our children need us to be strong
2.9k · Mar 2015
A Different World
Mark Lecuona Mar 2015
Beautiful colors
Vibrant light
Dark shadows
Pain in the night
Long lines
Smooth as glass
Shards await
A looming crash
Lights beckon
Future promise
Sudden pain
Bleeding bliss
Secret words
Sight unseen
Another's intent
You must glean
Time slows
Breaking it's gait
Simmer alone
Enduring your fate
Beautiful spell
Shivering joy
Maturity lost
Happy boy
Words burst
Forcing their way out
Focused attention
There is no doubt
Emotional courage
Consumed with fear
Faith in you
But you're not here
Passion builds
Only to peak
Inevitable pauses
Not for the weak
Feelings ebb
Self-preservation
Love never dies
Winter's hibernation
Reality lives
In this different world
In our dark minds
We are hurled
In a new way
Love is defined
Held back
Our actions confined
Their face
You cannot see
Their words
All they can be
2.8k · Jan 2015
I'd Rather Die Alone
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
If we never get back together
Then I'd rather die alone
I know who was the one
What's another year on my own

You never made me feel strange
You knew how to sit next to me
I never had to explain it
You just did it naturally

Yeah I'd rather die alone
Than try to pretend
No one else is you
You're my only friend

The moon lives only at night
But the earth thinks of her all day
It seems our life apart
Is just like natures way

We're not going to tempt fate
We're going to get out of it's way
Whenever it decides what to do
We'll know if the past will become today

Yeah I'd rather die alone
Than try to pretend
Nobody else will do
You're my only friend
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
Stochastic perfection
Staccato smoothness
Screaming comfort
Mental duress
Gutter rat beauty
Sensory control
Primal sophistication
Mutating soul
Indecipherable pitch
Blinding vision
Deafening clarity
Reckless precision
Simplistic genius
Street-wise intellect
Monosyllabic truth
Politically incorrect
Emotional apocalypse
Raging articulation
Distorted calm
Dominating freedom
Numbingly sensitive
Inappropriate dignity
Contemplative explosion
Tempestuous tranquility
2.7k · Sep 2014
For Every Traveler
Mark Lecuona Sep 2014
I am
With whomever I speak
Wherever I sleep
I am
Every form of season
Rain, snow, falling leaves, heat
I am
Not bound by culture or belief
For whatever I was
It is only truth I seek
I am
Every color of reason
Suffering and meek
I am
Travails and travels
Loneliness
Unique
I am
Someone to meet
Bowing to my host
Sharing a heartbeat
I am
Restless
Every man a brother
It is you who I keep
I am
The moon that never sets
Circling, reflecting, holding
Secrets that make me weep
2.6k · Nov 2015
Paris
Mark Lecuona Nov 2015
I grieve for humanity
Because my own may harden
I grieve for justice
Because war knows no pardon
I grieve for courage
Because with fear we may govern
I grieve for children
Because a fire burns in their garden
2.6k · Jan 2012
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.....
2.6k · Jun 2016
How?
Mark Lecuona Jun 2016
How meadows
   cannot green or divide hills
How lakes
   cannot ripple or remain flat
How tears
   cannot dry in time for another
How wounds
   cannot heal or blood clot
How truth
   buries its lies in unmarked graves
How revenge
   fears justice will turn its back
How reckoning
   fails to pay its debts
How love
   becomes hate by war
How children
   are born old by poverty
How dignity
   cannot calm itself
How eyes
   see knowing their crime
How memories
   only crack mirrors
How confessions
   ask only for mercy
How shame
   walks pretended of grace
How forgiveness
   needed to tell the truth first
How black men
   turn the other cheek
2.6k · Jul 2015
Before They Came To Save Us
Mark Lecuona Jul 2015
In a state of waiting
For us to be civilized
Or so they believed
But it is only for God
And our true image
As only he conceived

They brought books
But we know the word
And it is not spoken
Now they bring equality
We know our desires
They will not be broken

Seemingly dystopian
A society unworthy
Humans without love
Instead exotic allure
Spice aroma pallet
A silken body glove

And now your world
Where needles *****
And camels groan
While the waiting ones
Only ask to be free
From words of stone
2.6k · Apr 2015
No Ego [10W]
Mark Lecuona Apr 2015
You blushed because your heart does not have an ego
2.6k · Nov 2014
Why Do They Act That Way?
Mark Lecuona Nov 2014
For it is written to grant forgiveness
No matter difference or malfeasance
To never speak ill of one another
Or deny each other our subsistence

All men are created equal parchment
Holding these truths to be self-evident
The oppression of the Kings colony
Patriotic revolutionary

Migrating minds irrational to sane
Reserved safe harbor but to others pain
Land of self-righteousness and victory
Exceptionalism and destiny

Ships billowing with holds of chattel slaves
Fractional human beings ordained graves
Until brother killed brother for freedom
Assassination emancipation

Forty acres and a mule recompense
Jim Crow separate but equal pretense
Lynch mob street justice terrorism rope
Vietnam veteran unable to cope

James Earl Ray bullet Memphis balcony
Bull Connor another dead Kennedy
Black power fist raised Mexico City
Malcolm X panther Muhammed Ali

White supremacy freedom riders dead
Mississippi white cross on fire dread
Rodney King can’t we just get along plea
Is skin color all we will ever see?

Should they get over their Mockingbird past
Should they burn the city or should they fast?
Oh Lord should we turn a cheek in silence
Or fight with Kings dream of non-violence?
It's just something to think about... I'm not saying anything except there's a history that maybe needs to be remembered if we are to understand... and I don't mean understand criminal behavior. I just mean to understand despair... I wrote this as a "Heroic Couplet" (10 syllables per line) just to raise the bar of complexity...
2.6k · Jan 2015
Dead Man's Shoes
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
The shoes of a dead man
For you to walk
And his blade
For you to ****
Every page vanished
And every memory
But not the paper upon which it was written
And the dust
Under which it was hidden
Traces of direction
Windblown
A new future
Waiting for ripples to die
To see the reflection
And the form
That must be overcome
In the eyes of others
To determine need
Though not enough
In the eyes of others
To speak
Or live in silence
To write
Or to think
For who would listen
Or learn
From a man wearing a dead man’s shoes?
Because they are not wearing them
Only you
The blasphemy of discarding his past
But saving his presence
Is only for you to know
The willful generation
The one that learns from the past
But lives for the future
While others
Ignore the past
And die before they say amen
But not the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
Inside a book
Inside another book
Choosing the prophecy
That fits his needs
But not the worlds
Because they wouldn’t understand
Even if it was written in their language
Nobody can understand
Except the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
He knows death
And every word is life
So he reads
And prays
And does not bring who he is
Because he is not the book
He is only the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
He cannot hear anything
Or see color
Only the desperation that fills the void
Between men
And their confusion
That he is unafraid
And able to walk between people
Without explanation
Or justification
Because they wouldn’t understand
Nobody can understand
Except the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
So don’t ask
Don’t ask
You do not know how to ask
Or what to do with wisdom
They are just words
Words that amaze you
But cannot change you
Because to you they are words
To him they only describe
An approximation
A sketch
Of smoke
From a fire
That you cannot see
Or feel
Not like him
Because you are not a man wearing a dead man’s shoes
It is much worse than you think
Because you won’t confront it
You are insensitive
Dehumanized
The only ones worth living must believe as you do
Thoughts are life to you
Certain thoughts
Thoughts that may be right or may be wrong
Thoughts that cannot be described by one man the same as another
But thoughts that he will not speak
Because he is walking in a dead man’s shoes
Without the blade
For he does not come to you by the sword
For separation is only by choice
His alone
Without bloodshed
Without the desire of what you have
For he is not a thief
He will live without it
He will never take it
For his interest is not in what you have
But in what he can earn
And what is provided
As it is given by the world
As it is described
In the prophecy
That best fits his needs
Because he is a man walking in a dead man’s shoes
2.5k · Sep 2015
Blood Moon
Mark Lecuona Sep 2015
… and though it became void and formless
I knew that it was good
for the same as my conscience lives
so to as the light upon our bodies would
if only we could accept it into our lives

… as I looked upon silence where there was sound
I knew that it was good
for the same as I had witnessed a moment before
so too the shadow upon the moons face should
revealing how my soul bleeds as my body in the night
2.5k · Jan 2015
Survivor
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
You are his will on earth
For in this blink of life we all live
Despite the denial of our own mortality
And an unknowing purpose before God
You have taught us how to give
My friend has breast cancer
2.5k · Feb 2017
don't play me
Mark Lecuona Feb 2017
my heart is not a game
it is as serious as life can be
and though it can laugh
it will not compete for love
nor will it wander aimlessly

the reflection of a distant pond
but its light knows the dark
it is unafraid to be alone
a newborn knows no one
nor the hole a ***** will part

it remembers the past
and how it once did love
but that is a movie now
with characters so young
and futures unconceived of

tell me how it can be
are you right, will I be free;
free to live my purpose
then to find you waiting there
to love what is inside of me

do not try to play my heart
though it is an instrument
hear the music it makes
believe in the faith of sound
to you, it has already been sent
2.5k · Feb 2012
Mid-Life Crisis? Who? Me?
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
Alright, alright, alright... so yesterday my boss says, "Your hair's getting kinda long." Now, he's a very cool dude and it don't confront him at all but he said, "People are talking." Of course I go, "What are they saying?" He said oh you know, "Is Mark having a mid-life crisis? Stuff like that..." So I got ticked and said, "They WISH they were me...." Ha... cocky Mark. By the way I've posted a follow-up to this entitled "Don't Put That Sign On Me." Anyway here's the inevitable poem that always happens:

They say
There's a crisis
Really? Whose?
Mine?
Or yours?
Yeah my hair is longer
Yeah the girls seem younger
Yeah the words are stronger
Yeah the struts in my wander
Yeah... yeah
That's what they say
But... I hadn't noticed
Maybe... just maybe
That's because
It's not my crisis
Maybe
It's yours
But
Like I said
I hadn't noticed
But
You sure did
Why is that?

I'll tell you what
Yeah
I'll tell you
I'll tell you what I've noticed
I've noticed my honesty grow
To match your bank account
With every deposit
Your true self dies
They bought you
Your brain
Your personality
Your heart
Your soul
But I guess
You hadn't noticed
That's because
You are in a crisis
But it's normal for you
You see life from inside
The flames
It's as if everything
And everyone
Is on fire
But one who steps out
From the flames
Is not
In crisis

You locked yourself in
I freed myself
And in freedom
I live
In *******
You die
But you don't want to die
Alone
So you bring me down
Don't bring me down
Just because you locked the door
On your own
Don't bring me into it
That was your choice
Leave my choice to me
When did my choices become painful
To you?
You don't notice me
I won't notice you
Unless you need help
With your crisis
Then I'm here
Otherwise
Don't invent one
For me
2.4k · Jan 2012
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
2.4k · May 2015
A Dancer
Mark Lecuona May 2015
She was not interested in what was obvious
Her ego required nuance and sophistication
A life devoted to a cause will die with it
For what is achievement without a fragile peace?

Though the tide comes and goes, what lingers,
glistening post cards, confounding swimmer and
marine life alike, becomes the current and not
where the moon may ****** itself in the night

Applause in the middle of her dance of love
will not lift her spirits; to them, she has made
love to them and to her she has only found herself
for a brief moment while they became the ocean

She could never believe life was like that; art only
interested the patrons in this way, but her dancing
was not about what they would imagine was
perfect in her heart; only that it was not; it was not

The release of birds from the hands of those who
cried over their captivity was not of liberation, but
instead of shoes that required no hand or mind to
place them where nature intended them to be

She was unable to fixate upon comfort without pause
Life was anger and sadness that a smile knew too well
It was in her moment of triumph that tragedy met her eyes
And as her heart died she became the fantasy they paid for
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....
2.3k · Jan 2015
How I Wish to Be
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
Holistic, not horrific
Humane, not vain
Humility, not artillery
Human, not religion
2.3k · Jan 2015
Change
Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
I no longer wish to embrace change, only wisdom; just as I no longer wish to embrace something new, only truth.
2.3k · Feb 2012
Fasting From Humanity
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
Can mere flesh transform consciousness?
Can a mind fasting from humanity
Recognize courage?
Compassion?
Mercy?
Justice?
Dignity?
Fairness?
When it denies itself the right to give?
Can mere flesh transform emotion?
Can a mind fasting from empathy
Recognize tears?
Pain?
Love?
Tenderness?
Loneliness?
Suffering?
When it denies itself the right to do so?
In the midst of indulgence
And vanity
Mere flesh bleeds
Until the soul has run dry
2.3k · Dec 2016
No Pride Too
Mark Lecuona Dec 2016
Writing a song alone at night
That's how I get someone to listen
Nobody does when they're yelling
A dark light is all I can believe in

A poor man can't accept his wife's misery
That's why he's so angry all the time
Nobody can live if they failed as a father
His neighbor said it's a mountain we all climb

There's no dignity
And no pride too
It's harder than they can imagine
Pretending is what rich people do

Dying was something he thought about
Who wouldn't want to walk streets of gold
He wanted to ask the preacher about it
But the gold crosses made him feel cold

He watched her drive off with the kids
They were scared but he knew it was best
The pain inside was louder than sorrow
That church bell guilt won't let him rest

There's no honor
And no pride too
It's as real as he feared
It's something he always knew

He didn't know who he should forgive
Isn't that what Jesus taught us to do?
But he was the one that life had wronged
They would forgive him if they really knew

Living between heaven and hell
That's only life he knows
It's easier to be a criminal than a saint
That's what he told her when she decided to go

There's no hope
And no pride too
Everybody said he was lazy
Her family said it was true
2.2k · Apr 2015
Standing Across the Room
Mark Lecuona Apr 2015
She looked like she had it all together
She laughed more in ten minutes than I had in a month
I wanted to talk to her about it
But I didn’t want to dump my pain on her all at once

I’d never seen such a natural beauty
It wasn’t just her face, it was the way she wore it
There was nothing to draw attention
Except her happy eyes and the way they were lit

You don’t look like you need me baby
But you’re not wearing a ring
You’re out on the town
You don’t look like you’re missing a thing
But everybody needs somebody
And I want it to be me
I just have to calm myself down
And remember it’s real and not a dream

There she goes out the door
Her long brown hair waving goodbye
If I hadn’t been so taken
I wouldn’t have acted so shy

It seemed whatever I could say
Couldn’t open a door that didn’t need to open
I guess love is just about luck
You can’t walk up and say you’re the one I’ve chosen

You don’t look like you need me baby
But you’re not wearing a ring
You’re out on the town
You don’t look like you’re missing a thing
But everybody needs somebody
And I want it to be me
I just have to calm myself down
And remember it’s real and not a dream
Song lyrics... you know the beauty across the bar...
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