Once Fought, Now Forgotten | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope you’re doing well.

Once Fought, Now Forgotten

In the cracking dawn of 6am,
my thoughts lay in front of me like
the misty and foggy morning
I stepped into.
Like a mild inconvenience,
it coats my vision and whispers,
“Don’t forget about me. I created you,
so without me, you shall be no more.”

Standing upright, I gasp and sputter for air.
I’m drowning.
It’s too much.
Yet, I stay still.

You cannot do it!
it screams.
You’re not worth it!
it prods.
You failed!
it slaps.
You lost it all!
it kills.

In the falling night of 8pm,
my thoughts are simple and exhausted like
the sigh of the road after a car passes by.
Once fought, now forgotten.
I sink below and into your arms where you whisper,
“Don’t forget about me.”

This poem was influenced by my walk to class this morning. The weather was strange (it had been for a couple days) with misty rain and overcast skies. Then, someone must’ve clicked in my head since I found myself delving deep into thoughts which wasn’t usual for me anymore. Maybe it was the moody weather, maybe it’s because I’m stressed or maybe because I spent a couple minutes creeping on Instagram.

Basically this poem is about how thoughts can make you lose a sense of reality, but it’s only until you find that grasp, it can get really difficult. This poem is one of those relate with me! poems and I hope that it gave you a sense of belonging or understanding. The reasoning for the title is that thoughts are passing, so don’t let it affect you that much, but that doesn’t mean you should give up.

Another point in this poem is the presence of yourself and with other people. Oftentimes when we’re plagued with our thoughts, we don’t really find it necessary to ask for help. “Hey, I’m thinking too much. Can you take them for me?” Yet, most of the time, you’re going to need a second opinion in order to get your clear thinking back again. As human as you are, they also struggle as well, so keep in mind that they might need your help but won’t be vocal. This is empathy.

Well, I hope you learned something and thanks for reading!




A Nod to Life | Quick Piece Breakdown

A Nod to Life

Hello everyone,

Sorry about the long absence. Like I said in my previous post, it’s crackdown for my assignments. I have three projects, one of which is research and a bunch of events are popping up because the end of the semester is near. Well, I wrote something!

This piece is basically about the perils of life and how it can strike you down time and time again, but the simplest gift, but the hardest thing to realize is that you’re still alive and you still have chances. I made this piece full of reflection and quick images that prove a point and no more than that. In the timeline, none of these circumstances are any that you would like to find yourself in, more or less be involved in all of them throughout your life. In a way, it’s the worse case scenario.

This is a sad story, but the man made it to 30 years old and possibly more. There is always a possibility and presenting chances. It’s up to you and whether or not you decide to grab the opportunities and make the best out of them. Now, these opportunities may not be obvious and sometimes you have to look a little deeper to find it, but there are always chances. I don’t know about you and your stand point, but I believe that everyone deserves a second chance even those who have wronged me.

We all make mistakes, some great and some small, but in the end, they shaped our end result. Yes, I believe that everything happens for a reason and that nothing is ever wasted. From your failures, you’ll learn to not take that path and work harder towards the successes. From your complacency, you learn empathy. From your indifference, you’re taught the gift of sympathy and how it’s very necessary in human nature.

Well, I hope you learned something from my piece and I hope you enjoyed it!


A Nod to Life | Quick Piece

In the silence of my room, I sat still, thinking, pondering and considering. Shadows danced around my room and a part of my heart urged to dance with them as well, but it all felt too fake. I threw myself onto the bed and inhaled the dirty sheets, whispering of secrets and betrayals, something I was never part of. I groaned and rolled onto my back and images of my past swam in front of me.

Eight years old and the girl was crying. I think I pushed her down, but I told the teacher that she tripped and fell in front of me. The confused teacher comforted the girl and told me to be careful. As soon as she turned her back, I smiled. It felt good to be bad.

Twelve years old and staring down the bottle. My parents were on a weekend trip to my cousin’s wedding and I found my dad’s stash of beers. On TV, there were always movies of people laughing with their friends and I wondered if I could get the same effect. No one laughed with me, my stomach felt full and my head hurts.

Fifteen years old and I’m holding her hand. I think I liked her, but her hand was really soft. I wonder how soft her lips are. I wonder if she would mind. I think I can do it; I’ve seen people on TV do worse.

Nineteen years and I’m holding my child. Take-out boxes lay on the floor and my phone vibrates, it’s a different girl. “Hey hun, I have to go now.” I say to my girlfriend as I hand her my daughter. “I’ll be back in an hour.” She smiles at me, exhausted and relieved to have a healthy baby and lets me go.

Twenty-three and I’m meeting up with my lawyer to file for a divorce. I guess she found out, but it’s okay because I have the other girl with softer lips and a kinder soul.

Twenty-five and I lost my job. I’m back at McDonalds and my pants are getting tighter, but at least I get dinner and some spending money. There’s no need to rush anyways; I’m still young enough.

Twenty-eight and I finally moved out of my parent’s house and into an okay apartment. At least there’s hot water, but the view outside is just a brick wall — a true image of my life so far.

Thirty-years old and by myself, but I guess I’m okay. I guess I’ve lived and learned. What’s there to remember? My failures? My successes? Or the little steps that I’ve managed to take. I sit up in bed and realized that night had fallen. A cool breeze slips in between the cracks and brushes over my face. My indifference transformed into a simple gratitude and nod towards life.

Do you have any spare change? | A World Around Us

Something has come into my focal point and needs to be addressed. With these stories, I hope that I can bring light to a dire situation in need of people with power to present solutions. Hear me out.

There’s a street on my University that the students look at as the barrier between the university and the city. Students from different backgrounds walk through to get their fix of coffee or Chipotle. Nurses and doctors are able to get a quick meal before needing to head back to work. And then, there are drug addicts and the homeless who sit on the side of the street and ask the busy for change or even a meal.

Option 1:

“M’am? Do you have any spare change?

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any.” 

That was usually how the exchange went. They would saunter back to their original position, standing or sitting and we would walk away to grab lunch, that spare change being used for our personal nourishment. In your mind, an exchange questioning their background using your personal judgement and concluding with their best interest and your own in mind that they would do better without the cash and you have no time for them — the sorry truth and an air full of privledge.

Option 2:

“Ma’am? Could you spare some change?”

“I don’t have any cash on me, but I could get you some coffee.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“How do you take your coffee?”

With your heart full, you head into Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts and buy the coffee exactly how they wanted it, a medium with 4 creams and 6 sugars. It’s only a couple dollars, they stay warm and it doesn’t take too much time out of your schedule — the ideal situation. You return to the streets with the coffee and watch a smile erupt onto their face, a sense of gratitude flooding your body, yet when you leave that street, you wonder about their dinner.

Option 3:

“It’s not raining that hard out! You don’t need an umbrella!” he chuckles and says. I smile and head into CVS for my fix of snacks because I was addicted to sugar. I’m back out on the street again, backpack full with lunch and in my hand, I carry a bag full of gummies. The man approaches me again calling me out on my umbrella and saying, “Hey, sometimes you gotta feel the rain on your face, like this!” he pulls off his hood and faces the rain, a goofy smile illuminating his face. His lively personality causes me to stop and smile and he approaches me and says, “Can I ask you a question?” I nod before he launches the all familiar question, “I was recently released from prison. Do you think you could spare some change for a meal or coffee?” On impulse, I shake my head and say that I don’t have any when I very clearly have money, my bag of snacks rattling in front of me as I quickly walk away. Statistics flood my head as I realize that either way, he must be telling the truth. He’s doing what he can to have a living even if it comes to asking strangers for money. I turned around in hopes that I could catch him wandering around so I could not only redeem myself with my slip-up but show him that he can trust people and that first impressions aren’t everything. The sorry truth is that it does.

Regardless of the ethics of whether or not the money would be put to use or if they really are what they claim to be, people are on the streets, hungry and without adequate shelter. On the opposite end, there is a moral battle between what had been implemented within us and what should be done that conflicts with the role we are called to play in society. Are you a true humanitarian? What is your personal motives for helping those who approach you? Would you act differently if you were with your friends or if you had all the time in the world? Is it for your own morale booster or simply because you see someone in need of a meal?

Consider the options. Think fast. Act fast.


Reflective Trap | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

Sorry about the inconsistencies. It’s the final stretch for this semester, so I’m trying to stay on top of my assignments.

Reflective Trap

“hey” you say as you continue staring at your phone,
the light illuminates your tired face
as you continue scrolling through your feed.

I respond “what are you doing?”
but it’s obvious –
you’re escaping, escaping
from a world that wants to tears you down
but you can’t help but open up your feeble arms to it.

You shrug and finally look up, the pupils of your eyes
dilating as you focus onto me.
I’m like your saving point, a brief distraction
from the world’s judging eyes.
I wonder what’s in your mind.
Do you remember the guy’s name, that guy who sat behind you in high school?
Do you remember your first best friend who slowly became just your acquaintance?
Do you remember your first kiss, a gateway to a new beginning and a closed door
to everything simple?

Our eyes lock and the questions flow together,
a reverberation
a reflection
a moment of bittersweetness.

And you go back to your phone
and I pull mine out as well.

Do you think you could go an hour without your phone or laptop? a day? a week? an entire month? Most people can do an hour or even a day, but when it comes to a longer period of time, it becomes a hinderance. You can claim, it’s the only way my family and friends can contact me or my job requires me to be constantly on call or the only thing I would probably need is my email or even how am I supposed to know what’s going to happen in the world?

I could say that phones should only be used as a tool and not as something much of entertainment or you may argue that phones are an excellent way to stay updated with current events. Yet, I think we all agree that it would be helpful to everyone if we didn’t rely on our phones as much, as something that starts to interfere with our normal lives, as something that we can’t see life without. That’s when it becomes problematic. The same thing with social media, that’s a tricky one because companies are now using social media as a tool to reach people and advertise their products. It’s also a source of judgement and false information if used incorrectly.

In my poem, I wanted to give an image of a scene that we probably see or regularly do on a daily basis. There’s nothing inherently bad about it, but there’s a fine line with ethics about what this could be because it isn’t good either. (I’ve been mentioning ethics a lot probably because of my writing classes.) Basically what I wanted to get at is, don’t be so dependent on your phone or laptop. Remember to stop and slow down every once in a while.

Thanks for reading!


Little Did We Know, More We Can Do | The World Around Us

This is the final installment from my project, but I plan on writing more about current events and my opinions. 

There is little that we knew of what will become of this election and even less now that the unexpected has occurred. With a gaping wound at our side, we know what we should do and that is to patch up the wound and prevent any more red from spilling and leaking without knowing. He may sit up top with his suits dry cleaned to perfection and the words coming out of his mouth never believable, but the masses potentially have a strong force against him. Rather than using our strength in numbers to throw him off, we should reunite ourselves since it is pretty evident that we were never united in the first place. Just as it takes some time for wounds to heal, it will take time for the country to be able to call itself the United States of America.

Unconfined Thoughts 23 – Life’s Gift

All around us, there is life, but you only realize how precious it is when it ceases to exist. Each day is a birthday and every other day, someone departs the world. Tears flow to rejoice the newest addition to the family intermingled with the stress that’s to come in preparing the child for the new world. Tears flow in sorrow as someone whose life has been condensed to numbers has taken their final breath, a whisper to the present that things shouldn’t be taken for granted.

What motivates you to get out of bed each morning? Is it because your school requires your constant attendance or maybe you have a meeting? Is it because every hour counts when you work or because you have a couple errands to run? Maybe it’s a holiday and something will be different. Maybe a new episode for your favorite show comes out and you’re excited to finally watch it. Or maybe, you look forward to seeing the familiar faces the shape how your life flows.

There may be days when you don’t find much worth in one day compared with the others. Brushing your teeth and walking seem monotonous and you wished that something would suddenly appear and give back the spark you had in your life. Your favorite dishes don’t taste good anymore and you beg people you love to help you live again. It’s only until the cloud parts and you’re able to see once again that life is a fragile gift.

Here is my charge for you: Don’t take life for granted. Don’t allow it to become monotonous, yet I understand if it is unavoidable or you find yourself caught in those notions. Walk a different route. Try out that new café. Talk to that someone you’ve been meaning to. Life has its ebbs and flows; it’s best if you just ride it and see where it takes you. Don’t be afraid. Life is an adventure after all. Cherish and treasure every moment you have with them whether it’s big or small. And as always, don’t forget to tell those you cherish that you love them because if they’ve landed a spot in your heart, then you should let them know.

This is my charge for you, simply put: cherish life.

Written: 4/2/17 9:08pm