How I feel...

You all know the story...
A guy meets a girl his world is now changed
No introduction just talk, no names but still
Same thing happen everyday
Talk is cheap, his eye turn weak and only focus on that girl all week
Until it turns that he can’t stop thinking about her
Its 24/7 all nights of imagining what he would say the next day
Nervousness each time he’s around her
Her words just carry him; he’s full of himself but to talk he confines it to her
He can’t find time to unwind his feelings into this ocean of heartfelt emotion
Explosions of excitement but corrosion of work
She knows nothing in this flustered situation
She continue with her life just mere talk between them
He can’t think without looking at her face
Smiles each time he talks with this girl everyday
Pacing in his mind he doesn’t know when to talk or not
When to speak when to think each time she within a few feet
When to say the truth when to joke
But he try to make her smile as often as it comes
Just to see her smile
He always excited delighted to see her everyday but just too shy to go up to this person
Cursing himself out because he didn’t or just kicking himself because he did anyways
To hoping she gets online that one night or to the night he can't sleep
Tryin to fight it trying to go to sleep but all week it stay unchanged
When ever he sees her thinks about her his heart pace quickens
Like he's standing right in her face
Faced with a desicion he can't make so it thickens into more shit
He knows she can do better, but what the hell, he should never hide something
But its nothing but a feeling of infatuation
The glutton of love has struck him
Now what is one boy to do?
Like to pour out his emotions and times of his life with her in a mere poem?
No that can't happen because nothing and no one reading can tell
What the hell his mind has locked up what he can't say but wants to
Confront her but taunted not to
Ms. Popular girl has gotten my world
How can I complete this tale of where one man can get killed
If she shatters or complete my heart it would never make a difference of how I feel

Why is it that all of sudden I feel the pressure of gravity on me?
I mean, I’ve been in deeper shit holes than this before
After just one class of English my brain cells feel surprisingly sore
Am I just letting one class breaking my wings, stopping me from my endless ability to soar?
These past 2 ½ weeks I’ve been forgetting whom I’m doing this for
Forgetting I have reports to be written, mistakes to be ridden, and nervous-filled drops of sweat to be hidden
My brain tissue seems to have reached a state of such compression, as my heart keeps beating to a rhythm of tension, and my bones and muscles are moving with what seems like permanent trepidation
All of this is leading me to say, “Shit, maybe I should have gone to one of those extra help sessions”

(Maybe it's finished, maybe it's not, but i just feel like seeing the name Mauricio on the blogger once more)

FYI

Ms.preisner said if ma class (447) keep being bad then we not gonna do poetry slam, or mock trail. she went crazy on us the other day. she even stopped collecting our homework journals. We been doing journals since last year. :( I think we really pissed her off this time. it's like every thing we ever did since 6 all added up and she's tired of it..it's kinda sad though.

Meaning of Our Words

How is it that when spoken word takes hold and control of your mind, you can't get rid of what you has heard?
Sticking into your head you can'’t shake it out, like a bad song only that the lyrics you can'’t figure it out
Maybe because our words can twist, not lyrics but stanzas used beyond people eye because they use tricks
These metaphorical statements creating explanations to the thoughts we present
Through this creation to hating politicians or making vivid pictures dictating
What we see to what we bleed on these ink-filled papers printed out by thoughts
These provocative smilies stopping and clocking many, people figuring out what these poets are actually mocking
Or it is that this dense country of ours is actually thinking that rapping is shockingly turning to poetry, but this process is not happening
Because our spoken word was transferred and transformed to a "hands on" project for rappers to turn, torn and shred up poetry
And just to make currency on
Currently upon further study on the music on so call "rap"
Rappers can'’t deny there is an emerging emergency
These professional poets is dying
That'’s why this poet name Ryan is trying to use his mind to get it to you that poem is not rap
Who else can use these words so fluent like fluid flowing through you like water but words hit
you through tissue?
Through issues told through young teens witnessing horrific events since the age of three
Some warm hearted individuals trying to send it to you that this performance your eyes are seeing is not a rap video
This visual given to you at intervals so you can see the entire picture at the end
Not all at once before we give away our surprise
I guess that'’s why this art form is so hard to digest
Rappers can'’t duplicate and replace this unique race
We are held together by a common knowledge of poetry
But rappers in haste to copy our style and words
That'’s why your hear smiles in each one of their verse
Rappers don'’t care who likes their works
Work 2 hours and then get reimburse
Mixed with curse worse they us look bad with their figure
If you going to promote this at least look decent in your picture
No need to see a dozen platinum CD'’s with covers with rappers holding guns and money,
We poets act professional not funny
What do you expect reciting, and writing, and typing it up?
Biting our tongues every time seeing if fans are liking or not
Every time our hands touch the paper of our words
Our excitement is unbearable of our illustration but we are careful if our statements are critical to others but that'’s what we are here for
We tell it like it is we put breaths in between important point
Because we need to stress certain topics like...this
When people listen to our words they don'’t figure out the meaning
But yet they say its rap to us it'’s really demeaning
It seems that no one believes in this dream any more
ItÂ’s chewed up, spit out, and thrown out on the floor
But we poets still don't give up, we still doing shows behind close doors toes froze from fiery chills
Those foes knows that poems still exist and we still have a will
Because we would never bow to people who don'’t know
The meaning of our words so we will show them today
Through poems that convey feelings on political reasons
Or medieval treason or a young teen still dreaming to be whoever wants to be
Just like me
Because our words can transfer you out of school, alter your moods, it can even talk thaveu
You just have have to look behind our words find the terms, and read inbetween them and look and learn
Our words are stern or they can be kind
But it depends to the person is content or cursing in rhymes
Just check next time what this person is feeling and don't call it rap because it is demeaning
So let's see what you've learned, what our meaning?