"valdez" poems
loyalties change; so did you
what you see with your eyes isn't the truth. how much more do i need to see the truth that you can't see with your eyes?
the stars look really close together but they're actually really far apart."we learn that in class".what u see with ur eyes isn't the truth.
"how far apart is the distance that i need to close between me and-"
"it's because you don't know that you want to close that distance, right?"
who sees the human face correctly?
the mirror, the photographer, or the painter?
friend : everybody is beautiful in their own way
me : not if you're ugly on the inside and the outside
don't make me regret the things i do for you
something has tarnished our friendship and it seems hopeless to brighten it
what's the difference between "im jealous of you"
and "im disappointed in me"
it seems to me that there's none
i like machines better,humans break too easily
-Leo Valdez
it's difficult to make someone proud when all that notice are your mistakes
i already know i'm defective, u don't have to trouble yourself pointing them out for me
it's cold out here, i'm shivering
please, get me out of 'here'
there is suffering too terrible to name. we just learn to live with the unimaginable(hamiltrash)
it says "curiosity killed the cat"
in this situation curiosity killed me
True love isn’t Romeo and Juliet who died together. It’s Grandma and Grandpa who grew old together.(not mine)
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
Who are my characters? John Prat or Marvin Prat. John Ector or Marvin Ector. Then there is Mrs. Valdez and Autumn. Who are they in relation to John and Marvin? What do you want your characters to show? Who are they? Are they funny? Comical? Tragic? What? What do they want? I want them showing me. I want them as extensions of me. I want to take everything I have learned and put them into my characters. They are facets of my imagination combined into one giant ball, clusterfuck and **** of people that is my life. I want them to display my hatred. My disheveled hair. My looks. I want them to be oddly reminiscent of my family and my personal life. I want them to ignore their own feelings and not be happy. I want them to be happy. I want them to love and cry and weep and feel pain. I want the world to hate them and I want them to hate themselves, I want the world to love them and I want them to love themselves. I want them to fall from grace. I want them to fall down so many times and be on the verge of not picking themselves up. To say **** this I'm done with it all. I want them rejected and rejected and rejected and keep losing. I want them to win. I want them to destroy themselves. I want them to create themselves. I want them to create their own world filled with imagination. I want to **** them. I want them bleeding and bruised. I want them to end up homeless on the street with nowhere to go with needles sticking out of their veins. I want them to find god. I want them crawling through a river of **** and coming out clean on the other side. I want them to enjoy the little things and hate the little things. I want them to come to life. But ultimately I want them to make me cry. I want them to touch something inside of me that laid dormant for years. I want them to understand and feel my pain and empathize with me like no one has. I want myself in these pages. These sticky pages that combine to make a story.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
at the cafe on ruby toes and sugar pinch, we consent and reap the valdez of our perpetual cud.
we sip from octagonal spoons. there, we suture the fiend to the deed and the rail
to the runaway train. how else would you explain your dashing about
in the chum of our castanet. we cast our nets in the epibenthic fumes of our unusual loveliness
and sweat the little things that vanish from the canon our interesting.
hup to it. vie for the offshore drill.
suppose you grow a dead thing and keep it astonished with flashcards
and nobody says a thing ?
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
There is a beer can bobbing on the horizon.
It poisons the sea; La Cerveza Valdez,
an opposable thumb to flip the swtich.
I think being human is an artwork.
Pierce me, flay my arms in tribal shapes,
kiss the rag of religion, break your soles
for the Hajj. Let's overpopulate the party,
trading red for blue in an endless procession
of masks. Let's straitjacket our sanity,
and document our depressions in late-night
emails, and early morning black coffee.
I lost my mind when I turned sober,
remembering what it means to forget.
There is a hospital bed in the future.
But there are pills I can take for that.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
I can hear your cries,
I can make your suffering stop,
I will wipe your tears away,
I will bring you peace,
We will find your light,
You'll never be alone,
It will be you and I.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:13 AM UTC
Who is that girl?
that I refuse to see
staring back at me
who could she possibly be?
Flaws delicately pointed out
but virtues waiting to be touched.
Like flowers on a spring morning
there's a voice inside her
shouting and roaring.
Drifting apart everyday
and the memories
don't seem to stay.
She seeks for help
but they just don't tell
what their baby girl needs
is not on sale.
How much time is going to
pass by?
Before they realize,
that it's too late,
that this love that she needs
just can't wait.
-Andrea Dayana Valdez
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
There on the mountain
Here in the valley
Juan Valdez is somewhere there
Everybody knows his name
He has no doubt about it
It's the myth of coffee cups
He seen them all, and cleaning them's a pain
Well the beans get picked
And the beans get dried
Ever since decaffeinated
The sun comes up
And the beans fall down
Everybody only wants a touch of brew
Not just for us
Java beans still rule
Caffeine around the world
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
Jesus once walked among his sinful children.
One holy child who shouldered a worldly burden.
Saints were part of his life long journey.
Everyone was fed with bread and fish when they are hungry.
Peter the first known pope once denied him but was given hope.
Humbly killed by a spear while nailed to the cross, fear not for there was no lost.
Valiant son of the almighty.
And prince of good that enlights we.
Lifting our spirits with joy and hopes.
Divine mercy from the holy ghost.
Enter we shall to his holy plain.
Zapped by his grace and kindness for he reigns
May his name be in your heart.
A mighty king and the son of god.
Cry no more for he is coming.
All the world will gather to praise him.
Gone will be the days of hurt and pain.
United we shall be while he reigns.
Bestowed upon us are his blessings.
All of the world pray to the king.
No more suffering and no more hate.
God is with us so lets keep the faith.
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC