T- mobile has this back room where they create men. I sat in the waiting area and saw studs in uniform, clean shaved and ready to work. New men exiting the break room. This  batch of men  resembled each other in their appearance. It could be a technology malfunction but pleasant to the eye. 

       Truth is the aliens were created by companies such as T-mobile. Aliens are simple workers in charge of design and sculpting. They created us to produce and consume the products sold by companies in order to create larger and greater companies through our work and consumption.

We only quote the nice

We remember the funny

We indulge in the sweet

We want to forget 

We want to be numb

We find ways to escape, release and relieve ourselves

from the unpleasant truth of our everyday lives and of the terror that lays past our bubbles.

Our bubbles have small problems that bring us comfort 

We lived caged but dare not to cross any oceans 

because our lives are comfortable without waves of salt and the dryness of land 

We care only what the image on the screen and packaging says

Our thoughts are mass produced, shared and re-tweeted 

we dare not look beyond  or reflect on real life

Overwhelmed we are and cowards most of us remain 

selfish, sheltered and miserable 

Proceed to pour my soul using a Dr. Seuss rhyme

Reflect so intensively until my madness reaches a word count

Obsess over words and forget about the passing time

Sustain a ink vomit till my stubby fingers say lights out

Entertain my brain till a black period shouts done and vows. 

A past decision, chained me to contradiction. Still, I wonder if grace..?

I'm a flower that flourishes among quality yet survives off superficiality.  I hold my breath as death travels my stem. Oh, terror and delight, to be discovered, pulled upright and sent into a drift so honest and light. 

Her hair runs over her face and shoulders 

She is pale and fragile

almost porcelain 

Isolated in a corner 

she sits very immobile

I wonder how she had been 

if people were not seen as a number

and numbers were not seen as people 

She might as well be made out of tin 

because in effort for her not to fail

they have removed her heart 

to save time and  verify wallets didn’t suffer

A child drugged up to a medicine 

is a sight I can hardly bare

specially when short cuts are taken 

and better forms of help were 

overseen and set as a back up or spare

So what, if her life use to have more color

and her steps were full of dance and art

So what, if she couldn’t stand still

as the teacher taught her to do a drill

So what if her special learning forms

would budget for an extra dollar

All hard work is paid to what’s worth

for me and you both 

when one can  show compassion and valor 

In order to not have a child feel ill

and watch as her shine shudders

Witness her smile fade into a scowl

and her energy for life disappear

as she internally suffers 

She lost most of her self

and found perfect evaluation 

She placed a trophy on the shelf

and as she watched her reflection

she placed herself  there as well 

Until now I’d lost all hope 

that my young boy

would once again feel joy

sometimes all we could do is cope

to our new reality 

of pain and misery

But how he recovered is a mystery 

I didn’t know that demon could flee

and leave my darling’s body so unexpectedly

This devil is known for making an entrance 

and she finally found the exit door 

I am reminded that none can feel arrogance 

when a  disease can just walk in 

and sweep you off to your knees  

She reminds us that none is immune 

that no amount of money or silver spoon 

could guarantee health or another breath 

I caught a glance in the eyes of  my boy 

 it was the last moment before he would be done

He felt peace, and happiness for a second

as he held my arm and in the other his toy 

Ill see him once more in heaven 

as my beloved boy holds Jesus’s hand

Awaiting His second coming where there shall be no more death, 

as revelation comforts this father

and shows  a future living in any more pain

Waiting in Him I  remain

Till the day we are all together 

again 

He hadn’t seen anything like it in twenty years of teaching 

In shock he remained as he entered the door 

There was a strong thud like a boom 

And the former teacher almost broke out into a roar 

There was soil and a footprint on the classroom floor 

All the materials were laid and used across the room 

Students were interacting in groups of threes and fours

Students moved from wall to the other side

It seemed like they were not thought to abide 

Some were on the stationary computers 

And iPads were used by others

No one was using the chalkboard 

And the children were not complaining about being bored

For the first time had this Principal witnessed true learning 

But he could not let go of what he knew about teaching 

He saw chaos and wanted the chalkboard to be utilized 

Everything had to be as he had been asked to authorized 

I guess he likes doom and gloom 

He could not let the children explore, grow and bloom 

There is drumming 

Inside two lovers on a date 

I have one that is much similar 

And betrayal pulled the trigger 

Beating against me every hour harder

Like a ticking explosive 

That I need to deactivate

The land was barren, the sky was black

As I watched his back right before I shoved 

My will was sturdy and set

My hands are red and now everything has changed 

The drumming gets louder

Tender and weak are my heart and brain

In the darkest hour awake I remain 

Sure that this banging won’t simmer

Until I am confessed and from this truth delivered

Today the land is fruitful and the sky is red 

His heart is black and so is the rest 

I remembered when I shoveled more dirt to cover his chest!

Behold a beautiful flowerbed flourishes life from the dead 

       My worst mistake once told me the worst temptations do not appear to a man like a sensual woman with a scarlet dress, blood lips and the intention of giving herself to him because these are obvious mirages. 

      When reflections of our deepest desires are placed in a silver platter and up for grabs they get all of our alert flags up setting us in defensive mode. We can easily identify them as intrusive and delusive. 

         The worst temptations are actually quite different because they do not 

walk in and take the victim by surprise instead they take planning, hard work and courage.  They take courage because these temptations also carry a sign that tells us not to get involved as a fair warning. 

        Yes, decisions were taken before the actual wrongful act. I believe is because we don’t realize they come in a gang. We agreed to the first temptation and after the first one the second one and the big kahuna are definitely harder to remit. The gun was loaded, the aim was set and all the was left was to hear the bang. A simple scenario of cause and effect. 

       Forbidden but still wanted.

 Just like the tale about the girl who danced with the devil and  she knew who he was but just kept dancing. Perhaps at one point she invited him for a second piece on the dance floor and probably asked the devil to stay for one more song. She set the music and even took him out for the first piece.

  We danced until I was left scarred. My worst mistake kissed my hand said he was finished and then into flames vanished.  

     Temptation is hardest to deny when we craft the invitation and initiate the dance. Following through with our ideas even though we are  aware of the possible tragic finale is the bravest and most foolish life experience. We consciously trade in all of ourselves for temporary pleasure and the rush of a thrilling night. A rebellion against our own light. 

 We make the invitations and temptations attends. He then proceeds to takes us for a spin and then a dip. 

To know time then experience it

To touch time

torque the arms 

To hear a chime  

tune to the tick tock 

To watch the abstract 

 twist a wrist 

To smell the odorless

Smell the cedar 

Do not taste a watch

It’s bitter and salty like a dime 

Liar, experiencing a clock is not knowing time!

I know this but explain why do we count down to the new year 

Why does the world stare at towers that have the magic mark?

Why did it feel so real as the arms torqued to strike midnight on the clock? 

Because it was about the arms of the one I held dear 

Not about the ones that made the clock struck midnight 

And about the tight twist that led to an unbalanced hug

Of the heart beat that I hear 

As I am held in that fit so snug 

It’s about the moment when his lips met mine 

I lost notion of what was left or right

Discovered how to truly know time