Old 1990-1999

Hello, My Old Friends: 1990-1999



our land

they say we don’t belong here.
they claim to know.
they think they know.
they presume to know us.
us, a people scattered all over.
they don’t know.
the only people that know is ourselves.
we have walked this planet many times.
our influence has made existence continue.
our power has made the earth open up.
our sacrifice has not been forgotten.
simply we will not go away.
our blood will continue to thrive.
the last day of existence, we will be here.
this is our land.
we were here first.
we are the chosen people.
we took it upon ourselves to uphold the law.
everyone else turned their backs.
step to the plate, we did.
embraced the laws of the land, we followed.
all of this makes us strong.
we continue to be present.
this is our land.


Pluck Away

They steal

My petals

One by one

Two by seven

Yields quicker


They prolong

My death


To pluck


I still remain



Ghost Unknown

This is my ghost

You exist in my dreams

A savior from hell

Not seen by others

You come to take me away

My beating heart

Not quite the same

Moving on after you left

Your face is still real

Imprinted on my brain

Cycling over and over

You have not visited me lately

This fantasy has turned into misery

I do not feel safe

Only harsh echoes from afar

This is not fair

I did not ask for this punishment

You do not love me anymore

This replacement is not good enough

I have become too scary for you

Now I have become the ghost to you

Inner Demons

I hate you when you intrude upon my sleep.
My mind swirls around your shadow.
How you bring me down by telling me lies.
And make up for it by giving me sweet kisses.
You are the force that tempts me into hell.
My body wants to move beyond you.
But I am still spinning around your shadow.
You are plucking at my heartstrings.
Must I be your fancy guitar.

Tribute to my Journals

To the empty pages before me,

I apologize for poisoning your whiteness

With my blood and sweat,

With my sorrow and fears,

With my crying, hurt, and anger.

Please do not be upset with me

When I fill your whiteness with my words.

You save me from future insanity,

The only one non-judgmental of my actions and thoughts,

Giving me so much in return when I ask of nothing.

If it weren’t for you, no one would truly listen,

And the gift you have of responding is impeccable,

Which teaches me how to live to the fullest.

You have done something for me.

I cannot ever repay.

The Meaning

You must look beyond this page.

Go past the words.

Go through the words,

Go into the words.

Let it penetrate your heart.

Let it infect your veins.

Swallow the meaning like food.

Use the energy to move forward.

Pump your body with its exhilaration.

Take it in completely and honestly.

Know it intimately.

Don’t over think.

The mind is not yours.

It cannot be controlled.

It cannot be kept.

It belongs to someone else.

The Kill

With an arched back, I saw him whip the cowboy around with all his might.

This muscular creature was not going to give up even if it meant death.

The crowd was cheering the cowboy to stay with the brute.

The cowboy was giving his all for the audience.

He wanted the spectators to have their money’s worth, and they got it.

After a few minutes of this power struggle, I saw the bull losing ground.

His body wasn’t bucking as forcefully in the beginning.

I thought to myself, this beast is faltering.

The crowd was not on his side.

They wanted to see a fight, but got much more.

This was not a game for the cowboy, but a particular war of survival.

His eyes were like blades cutting thick barbed wire.

Audience members had to know the end was near.

I saw blood oozing onto the ground.

A large puddle of blood had onlookers gasping.

They could not tell if it was coming from the bull or the cowboy.

The continued fight had me standing with great anticipation.

My heart was pumping hard.

In between my heavy breaths, I knew in my heart one was near death.

The cowboy’s hat was on the ground, and the bull was visibly bleeding.

As quick as a blink of an eye, the performance was over.

Blood squirted out of the cowboy’s mouth as he fell down.

He lay there crumpled like a useless piece of paper.

A hole the size of a horn was gouged into his stomach.

The audience members would have to figure it out themselves.

They did not know what I knew before the battle even started.

A trapped beast will never be tame.

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