"alvarez" poems
Water swept softly, caressing the malecon.
Fisherman hung tirelessly to rods unbent,
Lovers perched next to seagulls,
Looking to distant dreams,
Embracing one another, folding arms against freedom,
Denying the waves flirty approaches.
A place where coloured plates were signs of class,
Fumes of gas enveloped rusty car interiors,
Locals spoke of their better selves,
All a show, an act of unity,
Clothes hung loosely, less is more.
Skin soft from the sun's spirit.
Tourists hummed over finely tipped cigars,
Remains of better days memorilised with frames,
Sweets passed as currency for cemetario tours,
Family tombs, shines, the dog at her side,
Saint Amelia listens to gratitude for answered prayers,
Where gomez, Alvarez, gonzales make hay,
Guantalamera sung gently in the bay.
Queues formed on corners, no end to each line,
Rations existing in such plentiful times,
Disregard for professionals,
Hailing of crimes,
Hemingways cocktail maker still pouring in the Floridita,
Murals of Che plastored to the walls,
Architectural past dotted out in each street.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
I shut my bedroom door
now engulfed by the bindings of paper and pen
and I roll my chair to grey desk
stacked high with Dickinson, Bronte's three, and Alvarez
I pull out my writing tools and begin to contemplate
ideas that dare not be discussed in the public of society
Why is it that God must be a man and
What make the human taught ideal of modesty such a binding force
flow through my brain and I breath again
without measure or discernment I am free
in my freedom i think
back to the conversation my mother and I held this morning
A girl had stood in our line of view her hemline resting mid-thigh
My mother had turned to me
"Ellis look at that girl! I can see her ****** face aghast
I nodded
"It is disgusting that girls these days dress so provocatively!
Thank God I have a modest girl!"
I nodded again
and I thanked God.
-Modesty Is A Human Construct
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 7:33 PM UTC
Why Pretend?
Why do we pretend?
To pretend...
Pretending helps you create, imagine, dream, or lie.
Not the same as fake. Never was. Never is. To pretend is to cover your feelings. Protecting you. It makes us confident, though we are drowning in low-self esteem. Brave when choking on tears.
It makes us unstoppable, when weak, invincible, when human.
Powerful when useless. It gives us the image of control. So we pretend.
Pretend to be happy, to be special, to be important, to be-to fall in love.
I guess we rather live a glamorous lie than a horrifying truth.
We-yes we-deny our errors, mistakes, flaws, everything that we are because we think that we are not enough.
We hide.
We hide our true selves because if we let them out into the world we know that they’ll break.
Their pieces will be lost and then what?
So we build our high walls, we put on our masks, we pretend.
Pretend that it’s all, “fine”, but we know the truth.
We do not ignore it but we pretend to ignore it.
That is why we pretend.
-Kenndy Estrella-Alvarez
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
Dichotomy of One
I like them hot but I dabble in the cold
the thoughts of a child but eyes that are old
love my music loud but soft whispers of love
the beast of an Eagle the beauty of the Dove
things that are simple but ideas of Gordian
the rock of a guitar the polka of an accordion
a fancy Italian suit and old faded jeans
thick juicy prime rib and ham and beans
keeping low minding my own world
dangerous stunts to straighten hair curled
mindless sitcoms not needing a look
immersing myself in an intricate book
tall gorgeous blonds with really long legs
petite redheads with a set of lips that begs
a shiny new Gibson a beat up Alvarez
a fancy top hat and a soft satin fez
I am so simple that I am complicated
I understand nothing and everything related
one more day with you is my thought for real
I never tire of telling you how you make me feel
Gomer LePoet ....
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
the San Carlos slum is his home
he roams disconcerted
through the squalor and filth
his owner Pedro Alvarez
long since abandoning him
forlorn this poor creature
trudges aggrieved
he rolls in the debris
and ******* strewn upon the streets
seeking relief
for any consolation
that can be had
his skin agitates
discomfort occupies
his miserable days
no peace is his
incessantly scratching
the itch reoccurs
the coat he wears
is patchy and disheveled
it's hard for this poor dog
no pride
a truly shameful fate
not loved
or attended to
his mange the only constant
this is his life
searching all the while
his paws work overtime
yapping barks
with grimacing impatience
Pedro where are you amigo
your dog Egardi
needs you here and now
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
Almost time for recess! thinks Chase, feeling a rush of energy.
Maybe we’ll play kickball near the old oak tree.
Wanting to run and jump, he can only squirm in his seat.
Waiting impatiently, Chase sighs, and swings his feet.
His eyes move toward the clock and then toward the door.
“Time to line up for recess” announces Ms. Alvarez,
but Chase can’t take it anymore.
Launching from his seat, Chase barrels toward the line
without seeing Lilly Parker moving at the same time!
Lilly’s sweater flew from her hands, as she tumbled toward the floor.
“I’m sorry” he said, his cheeks growing warm….. he’s felt like THIS before.
Like the time in the cafeteria, Chase was in such a rush
his milk had toppled over, turning his food turning it into mush.
He had felt so embarrassed while cleaning up his tray
Wondering if kids were snickering and looking his way.
Lilly stared at the floor as if she might cry,
then with a puzzled expression, simply asked him, “Why?”
Chase stared blankly. He honestly didn’t know.
“Why do I rush? Why can’t I move slow?
I know moving too fast is unsafe, and yet…
I get so wound up, I always seem to forget”.
With a look of both frustration and concern,
Ms. Alvarez wondered, Chase, when will you learn
“You need to slow down and remember our rule:
We walk, we don’t run. We move safely in school!”
That night, as Chase was lying in his bed
he remembered the words his counselor had said,
When you find yourself with a burst of energy
take a look around ….and then count to three.
Calm your body. Breathe in deep.
Take the kind of breaths you take before sleep.
Quiet your mind. Enjoy the peace.
Inhale slowly and then exhale…. release.
Squeeze your squishy ball or the seat of your chair
Take the time to notice who is around you, and where.
Then think…Do I have enough space to move or run?
If not, someone might get hurt and THAT won’t be fun.
With practice Chase, you will reach your goal
You CAN calm yourself down. You ARE in control.
On the next day, as playtime drew near,
Chase looked at Lilly and it all became clear.
I’m excited to play…. but I want to do it safely.
I will take some deep breaths to relax my body.
He enjoyed the cool of the air as he breathed it in
And felt a release as he let it out again.
The breaths seem to be helping as the minutes flew by
Soon, the breathing felt effortless. He no longer had to try!
As the class was called to recess, Chase slowly became aware
he had no sudden urge to leap from his chair.
He was not waiting impatiently or shuffling his feet
or imagining kickball on the concrete.
He didn’t even wiggle in his seat this time.
Chase was in control of his body and mind.
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 5:18 PM UTC
Tu vida fue con baile y canto
Tu muerte no sera con tristesa ni llanto
Ahora estas con Mima en el cielo
Y para mi eso es un gran consuelo
Ya no estaras en esta vida
Pero esto es solo una corta despedida
Algun dia nos veremos otra vez
Reunidos todos los Alvarez
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
You told me you loved words
and so I started writing you love poems,
passionately concealing them
in between sheets of books.
I started lending you pages
of myself, hiding within each signature
giggling, imagining your face
once you stumble upon my words,
finding them nestled within yours.
But maybe I misunderstood,
because you never came by
to browse through Aquinas
or Ahumada or Alvarez.
You never sought to re-read
Lopez or Lewis--those whose
words you said you've kept
lovingly locked within.
I wouldn't have waited for so long
if I had known that you've already
loaned your words and settled yourself
in between someone else's sheets.
—S.C., October 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC