I wrote this poem in 2006 in college. I’ve always been kind of introspective when it comes to the possibilities of life.
The full moon strikes full of unseen possibilities
Possibilities that dwindle as life goes
Through the process of aging or does it?
Perhaps we are the ones who put limits
To our potential to be anything or do anything
Perhaps it really is true that we are the writers of our own destiny
For the English version of this poem, click on the link below:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/30/poetry-passing-fad/
Escribí este poema en en 2000 cuando tuve un evento infortunado incident con un alguien que estaba saliendo.
Todavía me acuerdo de tus palabras hirientes
Después de acostarte conmigo
“mejor quedamos como amigos”
mi mundo se destruyó en minutos
casi me ahogo en un mar de mis lágrimas
nunca quisistes conocerme de verdad
la unico que querias era el ardor de mi cuerpo
y me quede con una tristeza profunda
que de nuevo era nada más que una novedad
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/10/17/poetry-i-still-love-you/
Escribí este poema en 1999 pensando en Andrew, un ex enamorado que tuve con cual me obsesione.
Todavía te amo
no se porque
tu fuiste el arco iris en mi vida
que nunca espere
me diste el regalo especial de tu amor
pero después ella llegó
y tu amor se esfumó
deje de ser tu querida
y ahora me siento como una inutil
porque aunque tú escogiste a esa
Hay algo que te tengo que confesar
todavía sueño con nosotros
y nuestro amor
I wrote this poem in 2006 for my creative writing class. Men in general inspired this poem. Lol.
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
It is that which makes me gawk
The realization of your words so thin
Give my heart a monumental sting
I should’ve put on my idiot proof smock
You should’ve stayed silent as a rock
Instead of whispering nothings to me on the dock
That’s when I should’ve stopped listening
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
Your mouth should’ve been padded with a lock
Then you wouldn’t have taken me on a walk
To your park full of crock
I got on your moronic swing
I shouldn’t have answered your knock
Despicable is the emptiness of talk
Here is a link to the English Version:
Poetry: Fun is Gone
Escribí este poema en 1998 pensando como mi vida iba a cambiar por mi embarazo precoz.
Terminaron las travesuras estúpidas
y la playa con mis amigas
y tener un montón de enamorados
Los próximos años estarán llenos
de pañales y baberos
y noches desveladas
Así será el desenlace
mi adolescencia
I wrote this poem in 2006 when my mother-in-law passed away. She was an incredibly kind and lovely person.
She flew one afternoon without warning
leaving us in a state of grief and mourning
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
And now everyone left behind
Has rivers running from their eyes
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
Regrets and remorse
Has become our two worlds
Why did she have to fly ?
Was it really her time?
No fancy words could ever express
How it feels to lose your best
Why did she have to fly?
Was it really her time?
I wrote this poem in college in 2006.
Literary movements, artistic movements, historical movements
Does it matter for everything to be categorized
the way it is? Really?
When what is of greatest importance
are the movements that stirs inside that warrants us
to create change or art
it’s the movement of emotions,
it’s the movement of our hearts,
the movement of our conscious
to express poetry, prose, or art
to inspire or heal others
with our original creations
I wrote this poem in late 2005 when I was going to school full time, working part time and raising two kids.
Trapped in a maze
Not knowing where to go
Gotta get out of this place
Before becoming conformity’s whore
A maze with traps
Like kids and responsibilities
It’s all getting too suffocating
And I can’t breathe
For the English Version of this poem, click on this link:
Este poema de 1997 fue inspirada por una noche inolvidable que cambiaría mi vida.
A las 7 de la noche
me recogiste del trabajo
me llevaste a tu casa
y de allí a tu cuarto
donde tocaste Fleetwood Mac
Y bailamos con un deseo único
Y tus manos tocaron mi cuerpo
como un instrumento bien dominado
y mi cuerpo empezó a temblar con deseo hacia ti
De repente nuestra ropa cayó al piso
Y caímos en tu cama
donde bailamos con nuestro cuerpos
llenos de ardor
ansiosos de juntarse
en un éxtasis mágico
I wrote this poem in 2005 when I was drenched in self doubt over my poetry. Doesn’t every writer or poet go through this?
I try to write words
that smoothly flow
But they don’t come to me easy
Maybe I just suck at poetry
But I will keep trying and praying
I will become good at this thing
Before I painfully decide
To give up this poetic life
And on paper try to make some sense
of my emotional nonsense
For the English version of this poem, click on the link below:
Poetry: That Night
Escribí este poema en 1997 inspirada por la noche que conocí al padre biológico de mi primer hijo. Tengo una forma extrema de idealizar a mi pareja al principio de una relación.
Aquella noche
Tomaste mis manos sudadas en las tuyas
Y mi corazón latió rápido y furiosamente
Aquella noche
Me hundí en tus ojos profundos y sinceros
Y supe que eras un amor verdadero
Aquella noche
Me abrazaste fuerte
me hiciste sentir que todo era posible
Aquella noche
besaste mi cuello gentilmente
Y besaste mis labios con un ardor único
Aquella noche
Me enseñaste tu amor
y hiciste parar el tiempo
Aquella noche
Encontré todo lo que estuve buscando
en tus brazos
I wrote this in 2006 inspired by my husband’s parents.
Many of us speculate
Why and how these two met
She was always literature’s mate
he was very well unread
But still these two started
A very fruitful fairytale
One without castles
Or a tall, tall bed
But one that would blossom
Into a lovely romance
that would bring me
my special somebody
For the English version of this poem, click on the link:
Escribí este poema en 1997 . Estuve inspirada por una ira fuerte que tuve contra una de mis exes.
Eres una canalla
y eso me entristece
Presionas a las mujeres
con tonterías
para que se acuesten contigo
A ti no te importa
como ellas se sienten después
De ser usadas para tu placer primal
Nunca pensaste que una de ellas
se vengaría de ti
Ahora pasas tu vida en tu cama
Porque eres un maldito desgraciado
Que irónico es todo esto
porque tenías que agregar otra a tu lista
de mujeres usadas
I wrote this inspired by the first time I met Andrew. I think I kept on thinking about him and getting nostalgic because I was so carefree and happy when I was with him.
Not a boy but not yet a man
He took my sweaty hand
Dancing was his aim
Andrew was his name
And with his clown feet
He showed me moves so weak
And an excuse I was about to invent
But then the moment went
And that was our when
the slow music started to lure
strong emotions started to brew
Innocent love soon ensued
I was his world, he was mine
We were the most perfect rhyme
But then reality hit
A truth we couldn’t beat
And even though I’ve moved on
It’s Andrew, I’ll always yearn for
I wrote this in 2006 thinking back on my time with Lucas.
A shadow of our friendship
is all there is left
After life gets in the way
of wanting something more
And when I see you around
A wave, a nod
An acknowledgement we once knew
Each other
Our conversations are now long gone
But we’re forever etched in each
other’s minds and dreams
Life on the BPD 