me

Daddy's eyes
grandma's ears
grandpa's love
uncle marks craziness
auntie's laugh
uncle buko's smartness
uncle Walter's sweetness

Mommy's cheeks
grandma's smile
grandpa's heart
uncle myron's voice
aunt leila's love of god
aunt maranda's sense of style
uncle glenn's strict old self
uncle butch love of games
uncle Ronald, we ain't much the same

all these things I got in me
all these things I'm suppose to be
but what am I without these things
like how many licks to the center of the pop
...the world may never know

The unreceived note that will never be delievered

I really held on to your hand
Thinking if I did that
there was no way of you leaving

When you asked what do I love about you,
I couldn't answer cause I was to busy trying to figure that out myself
Wondering why
I ran towards the fire 3 times knowing exactly what I was doing
And yet I'm willing to do it all over again...
crazy? I think I am

I've Changed

I put words together to form em into a poem.
Some people write rhymes so everyone could know em.
I just sit back, and reflect.
I’m slowly but surely growin’.
I just repeat a beat in my head.
Speak slow so I could show em.

I remember when Mr. C used to say to me,
“Don’t tell me, just show me.”
But in this case, I’ma need to tell him shortly,
Briefly,
That the old Miguel ain’t gon’ be me.
But you see, we’ve haven’t been seeing eye-to-eye.
I need to talk to you guy-to-guy.
Not kid-to-kid, or man-to-man.
The person you see in front of you is who I am, and
If you don’t like it man, I understand,
Cause frankly, I don’t like it neither.
I mean, I ain’t the little fat Puerto Rican boy rockin a ceasar.
Nah, not anymore,
Cause now I feel, way way more lower.
Now I know why,
Why my customers get high.
It’s because they reached their lowest point.
So what better way to take it all away?
After that, the only problem is wakin’ up the next day.
If you’re disgusted by the way I’ve changed,
I’m sorry.
I know you’re worried,
But it’s like I’m gettin' pushed in the wrong direction in a hurry.
It turns out that my foundation wasn’t all that sturdy.
It’s that the people that we’re holding me up suddenly scurried,
And scattered.
So my common sense fell down and shattered.
I’m stuck in a situation I can’t get out of,
And even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t have mattered.

I'm Back pt. 2 (first time pt 2 is better than pt. 1)

I plant trees those seeds that grow
That feeds these people and I give them what they need
But I have gotten a drought
No more sprinkles of ideas to shower my harvest that slowly would grow
But rather wilting rhymes, drooping over my page on my black lines
That would seems elegant to me but no one else finds it elegant
The dry base of my topic is as old as it comes
one shot deal and the fertility is done
but you got to move on through this
Thick shit, think quick to make it through rough surfaces on your path to a new land
the land that would provide the sources you need
The greens of smilies or the leaves of vivid beauty
Whatever a poet needs you name it
but it seems the path is much harder than expected
My lines on this page is getting hectic
Chaos reigns through the rains of apopletic feelings
And regrets affected previous poets to proceed
Probably no... Indeed I am no other poet
The journey to new lands where poets thrive is mine
Where I can feed the hunger of the people will soon come true
My pencil on the paper where rhymes unfold, stories show these people cold untold tales that would never be heard if it wasn't for them
So indeed I shall travel to foreign places, see poets faces on the same quest as I
And I want this
No I need this...
For my people for has awaited for the returned of Mr. Prolific Poet
You know it I just need some help
That I once got to grow my crops to pot these flowers that will spring the true beauty of poetry
But they have been separated to grow their own
And I still need that help that I once got
Because my crops become scarce and farce
It Hard time through the wet season because that would rain on my unseeded plants which would never have a chance to grow
I can only see the end of my page but not know what will happen
What fate my lines holds on this uncontrolled terrority of poetry

I found new land now...
The flamboyant greens and pastures of the hills.....I can now plant my new seeds
But this seed is different
New flow new gardening methods of which you not know
Something that has been released from the pollen from which it has sprout
No more afraid little crops sticking its buds out no doubt on this new one
It has a new outcome that has begun to change the fate of my planted seeds
So I gave back what the people need
My new flow

Yes this new flow that I have perfected but now rather prefer not neglect my intellect as an individual but showing it
My rhymes do not really matter for now my plants beauty shows itself
That even science can't figure out what kind of beauty my plants exude
Truth spills from its sap no longer hiding behind its not bloomed pedals
From now that my crops has been successful for this short time coming
Mr. Prolific Poet is back you better know it
And I'll show it to you in this new flow
This new flow...
My Poetry Flow



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