From the moment
I could hear my grandfathers voice
Telling me legends and fables from his religion

To the time
My dad would
Make up tales
Of a pair of brothers
Just to get me to sit still
When my parents in a rare moment,
didn’t have
A book readily available

From the moment I was able
To hold a novel and breeze thought
Fluently with ease
After my parent’s ardorous task
Of getting me to practice

The days when my
Mind spent less time in the real
World and more time captivated
By those experiencing what I had not
But now, though their words, had

To today
Where my almost every
Free waking moment is spent
Either absorbing words
Of some romantic
Or fantastical story
Or,
Writing.
...
So basically...

Books
Stories
Novels
Words
...
This poem conveys it all
I don’t even have to say
What an integral part
Of me
They
Are

In preschool it was drawing
In elementary school it was reading
In seventh grade it was anime
In eighth grade it was Manga
In freshman year it was Asian light novels
Now,
It’s poetry
...
What will it be next???

Turning page after page,
searching web to web.
Reading books and novels,
prose and poems.
For some metaphors -
those were never been used in history
to portray feminine beauty.
No, they haven't left any
not even a single one.
Now, how shall I capture those deer like coal jet black eyes with so deep and calm stare?
Then how shall I portray those earrings hanging like bunches of berry touching her fine jaw line?
Which seems to be drawn by some Renaissance artist.
How will I draw her lipwing of rose petals, flamed like scarlet wine?
And that smile beneath the cheeks just like the before sunrise.
Or her hair, flowing like waterfall down her shoulders same as rocky mountain.

With Neruda, I fell in love with you.

It was so beautiful, I felt I had to close my eyes wide shut,

just to remember this was not a dream.

Then Hemingway came along, by then I was feeling a little lost in your eyes. Some days were good, some days were bad. Yet, I still held on.

But when I suddenly found myself with Bukowski on my nightstand.

Well, I knew then, baby, we were ******. He brought me back to reality, and I understood at that moment, that we were finally done.


*Sandoval