#americandream
White stars in a sea of blue
all my comrades who I have abandoned
my clock ticks uncontrolled I am stressed
even I have fallen behind
Watch as others flaunt their success
I am left in the dust
Who am I today-
my spirit is lost
it only exists for others
my paintings only have one layer
the artist forgot to finish the inside
I look back at my documents
even they carry the wrong name
my action serve as an act
only for my perception
no one leaves their door without a mask
I must follow-
I can’t be left dry
the extravagant now means wealth
simplicity is lost
gone in a boom
faster even than our expansion
Expansion led by our fathers.
the saviors who stamped out,
exiled the original life.
Past heroes smile back at me
only for the picture-
horrors of war
are written in their lines.
man fights wars
not for freedom-
not for belief-
for their own gain.
Man can never know its place
believing we can eclipse the heavens.
the tower of babel-
Icarus and his wings-
We believe we are makers
yet we only take and take.
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 11:39 PM UTC
I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the Republic for which it stands,
one nation, under God, indivisible,
with Liberty and Justice for all.
Justice for all our black neighbours
who have the honour of being murdered
should they make the mistake of looking
at a police officer the wrong way;
officers meant to unhold the meaning of justice.
Justice for the gays who’ve spent decades fighting
for their right to publicly exist,
even accepting torture as punishment
for the sake of the greater good;
only for those rights to be put back in a box.
Justice for the women bleeding in alleyways
at the hand of a man who knows
that even if he’s caught,
he’ll still get away with it.
He just has to blame it on her skirt.
Justice for the brothers and sisters
dying at the hands of their cruel parents
and a crueler system that would care more
if only they still existed in the womb.
A life being lived is a life not important, I suppose.
Justice for the mentally impaired
who were perceived as burdens
and God’s punishment for mankind to bear;
who are still fighting for their right
to work, own, and love as others do.
Justice for the felons who got the label
in a state of teenage recklessness,
who have not the right to vote
or have themselves a good career,
but get to watch another run for president.
Justice for the Natives who often go missing
and reappear mysteriously deceased,
but are rarely ever looked for
or never given any protections.
Who are still fighting for their right to keep their land.
Justice for the children
who have to practice lockdowns
in case their school is the next one attacked.
The fear of not going home heavy on their hearts;
thoughts and prayers the only thing sent if they die.
Justice for the non-Christians whose lives are threatened
and temples are frequently attacked
because they don’t fit under the allegiance,
for the don’t follow the ‘right’ God
or practice the ‘right’ way.
Justice for all of the lonely Americans
who have to watch their liberties
be put on the stand and questioned again.
The ones fighting one more time for the right to live.
To love. To be safe. To be a person.
Justice for the ones watching
The arrogant applaud their loss of freedoms
for the sake of their own personal gain.
Justice for the ones listening to their loved ones
tell them that it doesn’t matter.
I guess we just don’t matter.
To Liberty and Justice for all.
Sep 15, 2024
Sep 15, 2024 at 5:26 PM UTC
Elvis woke me in the afternoon
He told me
Church was over
That I missed the Sunday service
Yet I still heard the choir
Just down the corridor
I prayed on the steps of Graceland
To a statue of a lion
Cascading in the light
Spilling off stained glass
He told me
Winner takes all
And I gambled my heart
Right out of my chest
Sliding out of my shoes
I fell down the stairs
And landed in a hotel bed
Picket fence lining my frame
The devil told me
My alarm was going off
But I like to think it's all apart of
My American dream
Aug 23, 2024
Aug 23, 2024 at 12:59 AM UTC
man we are just so comfortable
in these cozy bubbles
convinced we cannot change a thing but our own environment
bothered and put off by the suffering of others
asking “how can you even watch that?”
unwilling to sit with those feelings of helplessness and rage
unable to tolerate seeing the things we’ve never seen
the desperation we never will experience
and the situations others didn’t get to choose
as if we aren’t living on the same exact earth
and maybe that’s exactly what keeps us here
drinking our frappes
stressed about a deadline
complaining about our french fries
American dreaming
Nov 19, 2023
Nov 19, 2023 at 10:09 AM UTC
Boredom bored some,
but for the rest of us it became a lifestyle.
The rest of us,
who spend so much money and time,
on objects and gizmos...
Just to while away our lives.
And, on comfort!
If we're going to do nothing,
we've at least got to be comfortable
while we do it.
We've gotta work though,
gotta hustle.
The trick is finding that tipping point...
The Grand American Treasure:
To find the least amount of labor,
for the greatest amount of leisure!
So let's climb that ladder
Make money! Get paid!
So we can quickly and painlessly,
whittle away our days.
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 2:06 PM UTC
Sometimes dreams come waking
by the American shore.
Over and over,
escorting wandering souls, more and more.
Over deep ocean, golden rays;
blinding eyes, singing praise.
America the beautiful and America the free.
How free is possibility,
In a nation of changing, pride, urgency?
How much can you bear internally
watching your brothers and sisters wither in desperation.
Oh, beautiful and free and desperate nation.
Nation of red, white, and blue
red blood,
white knuckle,
blue bruised back.
We struggle together, yet unity we lack.
Everyone seems to be rushing up and pushing down
when we are all surely hell-bound
destined far beyond the ground.
We fear failure, we fear love
we fear whoever is watching above.
Because, regardless of who created and thought,
“my artistry will change the world”
was surely not
trying to leave it in ruins.
Simply; we, America, move too fast
we justify the present, suppress the past.
Ignore all the wrongs we've rendered within our own borders,
to our own neighbors.
What can you do wrong, when you have dominion?
And when you are below, what importance is there in your opinion?
There is no morality in a man who has his eyes on the rise,
a man who has never taken labor
in his stride.
America was built on sweat and vigor
though, now, whose finger is on the trigger?
The new America, polished and improved
has the gun cocked in every angle
advertising the glorified dream, the success that you can strangle.
The time that can be abused; yearning for wealth, working to the grave.
Servant to the passing days, when,
wasn't it liberation we once craved?
We're building an empire, disguised as democracy,
where we ****** the spirit of those we promised were equal.
It reeks of hypocrisy.
We're building an empire,
but even once-great Rome fell down in shambles,
and we aim far, far higher.
Higher buildings, higher expectations, higher need to achieve
to beat and beat down on those that only breathe.
We're building up walls to elude the sun, dead,
when you live in darkness, what, honestly, becomes right in your head?
What light shines upon a nation, still unashamed
of prerogative and seldom rights to be obtained
by virtue and strive for those who believed in the American scheme?
Sometimes dreams come crashing
at the American shore
littered its sands
all the years from America forever and America before.
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC
Politics jut aren't my thing
I don't care who you vote for
I won't judge you based on your political party
but I do want to say
That is hurts me to see
so many Americans be so callous and rude
to others based on their religion or race
to watch others suffer
in countries where their leaders
are committing genocide
and when their last hope is
to run away from their home, family
everything that they've ever known
in hopes of finding safety
in hopes that they may be able to survive without fear
but then they are met with cruelty at our borders
hate in our country
What does America stand for
if not freedom and hope?
Is the American dream dead?
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
They come in gold and silver,
Twinkling lights, gem-filled eyes
Of diamonds and critines,
Dotting this night scene with life.
I don't know where they'll go,
But with each pair passing,
Time went so, so slow.
Stones against my bloodied feet,
Cutting at these pulsating streams.
Tarmac, tar black
Laced with that sacred red.
I don't know how much further I can go,
The shards only dig deeper,
The lights are losing their glow.
They left with stains of crimson,
Apathetic silhouettes slinking in the night,
In a trail of shattered garnets,
Past the corpse of death's bride.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
I want to go to the "Land of All"
But oceans keep us apart
On a Petrol-stained sailboat
I'll make my journey to reach you
"Believe in Flashing Stars;
A new horizon in the limelight"
Makes me want to go explore!
Trapped: I can't go home.
Rivers: overflowing dreams.
Cast my line to catch my fame
Hook, Line, Sinker
I became the bait.
If I am going to drown
Might as well go up in flames.
Rivers cast me off,
Now I am a cast-away.
Close my eyes tight
Hide from flickering lights.
The tide recedes
No longer blind.
Stuck on my wooden shore,
Arms outstretched, grasping dreams
Ocean rise, lights floating.
Deadbeats slowly sinking.
Bubbles floating to the top
Before freedom, they pop.
Tried to find the "Land of All".
But they denied me entry.
© Sofia Villagrana 2018
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
The underbelly of our collective psyche,
has been cut open from the gut and gun pokin’,
now the sadness runs rampant,
in the flooded streets of these American dreams,
see in this scene things aren’t always what they seem,
especially when viewed on a screen that’s green,
she says her father doesn’t bother to call her,
says he lives in Vegas where he lost his job,
just another unemployed American off the assembly line,
now he takes care of his mom who’s lost her mind,
gone senile from years of denial that her son is an alcoholic *********
meanwhile resistance is still futile,
and this son of this mom is the father of the girl I’m with now,
as we lay in bed talking about trivial things instead,
of what really matters which is what we’re doing with this life,
just passing time until we’re all dead I guess,
feeling like an abstract painting of American Commentary,
a dissenting dissertation of this perverse dystopia,
don’t mention most things that are worth mentioning,
which is part of the problem that keeps repeating in amounts that’re copious,
and I’d continue with these verses and get more in depth,
but I’m being rude to the nervous girl in my bed,
so I better get off this laptop and back to that jackpot,
or rather Jill *** whatever that means I’d rather be misunderstood instead,
and that’s why I don’t mind if they don’t understand what I said,
or rather don’t understand the words that I wrote when they’re read,
because,
the underbelly of our collective psyche,
has been cut open from the gut pokin’,
now the sadness runs rampant,
in the flooded streets of this American dream,
see in this scene things aren’t always what they seem,
especially when viewed on a screen that’s green…
∆ LaLux ∆
Free link for new book: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
Here in America, number who knows what in education,
Where we excel in standardization,
Of souls and resumes
Where you need a 4.5 gpa
And hey, I know I’m one of the ones in the 1%
I’ll repent for my hypocrisy in saying “break free”
I know, poor me, being reduced to numbers just isn’t my thing
4.33, schedule block B, math, PE and chemistry
Sometimes it’s hard to breathe
I can feel my chest cave and shrink
That chewing glass feeling
And imagine the kids sitting on the brink of failure
Which has grown to become something:
A cacophony of the anti American dream
And therefore we’re stripped of autonomy
In the land of the free
“I pledge Allegiance to”
The US public education system which finds its niche in the fact
That witchcraft seems to be the way to survive it
Deviation from the norm is only embraced for a profit
So basically unless you’re an actual prophet I’d color in the lines
It’s not like you could find the time
After the 7 hours of school, 3 for homework, 2 for sports, 7 for sleep, 2 for eating, and half a minute for breathing
So on Gregory, on Denise, to your 9 to 5s
Of course there’s those that thrive
Living their best life outside the American Assembly line, like in algebra there’s an exception to every rule
So I’ll run the rat race September to December to spring break to summer and then start it over
I’ll chew my glass, if you’ll fill one up with champagne for June of 2020, when the real world begins,
Because the world of high school and imaginary is where I live.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 8:04 PM UTC
see I wrote my pains plain because I know the struggles real well,
now the only shells I see are seashells,
now we pass the days surfing wave breaks no emails,
and all seems swell as we swim out when the sea swells.
Swimming in an ocean,
in a rainstorm,
lightening lights the liquid horizon, thunder cracks waves crash,
beautiful chaos,
within and without,
choppy waters commanding currents,
no definitive lines everything’s blurring.
She’s with me,
an angelic beauty,
fittingly,
from The City of Angels,
as am I,
we find,
we’ve found,
beautiful chaos in this ocean and these thunderous sounds...
The H Trilogy
Volume 1
7/7/16
∆
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
god bless america
and the free men shackled
in chains we deny ourselves to see,
and bullets that cloud our vision raining rivers of blood
that we wash off at night so we can sleep in peace
because we'd rather not believe that bad things happen here,
that a black man can be shot down because his blackness was too suspicious to be ignored,
so let us pledge our allegiance to silence
let's hold our tongues
and maybe we'll survive this corporate jungle,
and live the American Dream
A L Daniel
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
A year ago today my grandfather passed away, but he did not die. He lives.. and if you want to find him, find him within the crevices of my actions, my tenacity, and success. Crouch down and find him underneath all that I believe in, all I stand for, and all I will accomplish. Open me up and find him in everything that empowers me. He is the fight inside me.
Abuelo, a year ago you passed away, but you did not die. Your story radiates through my reality. Because of you I wear Cuba on my sleeve and I made sure that when you passed you did not take our story with you. Abuelo, I knew you were of Cuban pride, but I did not know that the shop you struggled to open is what allowed Cuban culture to cultivate so strongly in Elizabeth, NJ. I did not know you gave refugees gold jewelry for free so they could sell it for profit, and that you trusted them to pay you back whenever they could and settled that on a handshake. I did not know you were part of an organization of Cubans. I didn't know that hundreds of men revered you within that organization. I did not know you can make a room full of grown men cry. I learned this at your funeral.
A year ago my grandfather passed away, but he did not die. I am here, in the US, succeeding without financial burden. I am here because he left everything behind, including old friends, a successful business, his money and his culture. I am here because he took all four of his children with him. I am here because he refused to stop there. I am here because he had deep-seeded ambition and pushed through every challenge with his chest out and his head adamantly on his shoulders. I am here, I am happy, and I am secure--And because of that, he lives.
Abuelo, I must confess I took some things from you without asking. In the pocket of my heart I hold your ambition. In the pocket of my conscience I hold your integrity. Abuelo, you are in peace, but never will you be put to rest. Not within my lifetime.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
Hands of rugged mysteries
typing letters fast
counting down the minutes
time is standing still
creating distant fantasies
within a neverland
knowing I will not fulfill
dreams and wishes true
money spent
buying smiles
approval, but demise
for paper only melts in fire
souls go somewhere else
what is worth
effort
daily
for only
bones will
endure
confusion overcomes me
I'm at a loss
tossing money
wasting life
sitting in this cube
typing
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Ring ring, screamed the teens phone,
Ding **** cried the bell,
No ones answered a door for a friend,
Since the great wifi curtain fell,
Pay no attention to what you can be,
A wonderful world awaits,
Ran by blood and money,
Oh! The beauty of business baits,
The one true God,
the almighty dollar,
Dethrones that fraud.
And silences a Hollar.
Why feed the hungry,
When you can feed yourself,
Why give clean water,
When you can stock your shelf?
Well maybe I'm just tired,
Of always making excuses,
And maybe im just sick,
Of the horrible things we do,
I want a world desired,
Otherwise we're all useless.
I've given up on the *****
That claims he wants what's best for you.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
I'm drowning
In the American Dream.
Everything here
Is not what it seems.
Is it your dream
To be shot on the street?
Is it your dream
To not be able to breathe?
This is what we are.
This is where we are.
This is some American Dream.
So stand with me,
Raise our hands.
"Don't shoot."
We say.
But what does that do?
As long as the guilty walk free,
And the innocent can't be,
We are stuck in this American Dream.
Please get me out.
Take me away.
This is a nightmare.
Hold your breath,
And raise up your hands,
And pray to God
That man won't shoot.
Is this all we can do?
m.c.c.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
On the West Side of a flagpole,
In December's later breaths,
The wind whipped Winter's white quilt
Burnishing words, words, words,
From the ***** metal monument.
Knives and pens had etched
Their love into malleable matrimony
Beneath the flicker of that flag,
But the etchings became wishes
Of Winter's White Wedding.
My fingers grazed the forgetful frost
As muscle memory recalled
A pair of initials and an addition sign.
Fresh drops of condensed ice
Hung within the ridges
Of our four lettered addition problem.
I exhaled a condensed breath
Which sifted towards the pole
then dissipated.
I glanced over as the moths
Attacked the only streetlight
Causing flickers of light
In the starless night sky.
A half second stare
Was a half second too long;
I looked back at the iron pole,
And the letters were gone.
A white wash of frost
Mixed with my exhale,
Covered the West Side of the flagpole.
Pockets of wind snapped in the flag.
I peered up at the streaks of crimson
And field of blue whipping in misery.
The seams of the flag's fabric
Became weathered and torn,
As I walked away from the flagpole—
Tired of dreaming in the stars.
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
Elusive, you are.
Like a Tyrannosaurus Rex chasing a butterfly.
Destroyed.
By a mad dragon trapped in a rat maze.
Flailing, quaking, enraged,
You crumble.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC