My Brother José

Time has passed
So little changed
You raised the call
In freedom’s name

That call rings still
It guides our path
It gives us strength
Against the wrath

Of those who would
Seek to enslave
The truth and rights
All people crave

They took your life
But could not see
The blood they shed
Fed liberty

You are alive
Inside our heart
We pledge to you
To do our part

The task is ours
To lead by choice

Fight for the weak
And give them voice

We must shout out
And lift our hands
Again it’s time
To take a stand

Honor and courage
Must win the day
We owe you this
My brother José


This poem is dedicated to two of my heroes, men who were not afraid to stand against tyrany, men who loved liberty. These two great men, their writings and sacrifices have inspired my own walk. In Loving memory, Rest in Peace José Martí of Cuba (José Julián Martí Pérez January 28, 1853–May 19, 1895) and Dr. José Rizal of the Philippines (Dr. José Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda June 19, 1861 – December 30, 1896)

Thief

You came in the guise of a friend

You stole from me innocence and peace

You tricked me, lied to me

You stole without regard for consequence

.

You lived as a specter in my life

You hid in every shadow

Stalking me, chiding me

Dark whispers like a thousand darts

.

Now the thief has come for you

Stolen your health

Stolen your youth

You are laid bare

.

You died today

Your broken and decayed flesh failed you

That which you tried to take from me, denied

You died and I feel only sadness

.

I forgive you

Good night, find peace

Sleep now

You steal from me no more

.

Years ago something was stolen from me. Something I hid in my shame for years. I recently learned the thief died. Good bye, good journey, I am free...

http://www.childhelp.org/

http://www.childabuse.org/

http://www.stopitnow.org/

She

It is for she
Who spoke the world into being
and breathed life into it's lungs

It is for she
who was expected to stay
and chose to find her own way

It is for she
who carried the immaculate hope of the world
bore and nurtured him
for our death and resurrection

It is for she
who sacrificed her dreams
and ensured our own

It is for she
who made us men
and with a word or glance emasculated us

It is for she
who has shown me all I desire
and may not have

It is for she
who is worthy of praise and scorn
that I offer these humble prose




Women, they are God's most beautiful and terrible creation. They bear the future in their womb and drive men into their tomb. All Praise the creator for their existence.