Loved Me

Loved Me

I won’t apologize

Being the thief of a heart

Like leaves

Changing color in the winters

I was only reaching

Into something

I didn’t understand

But I wanted

What was you

Inside though

I always knew

You’d never be mine

And I’m forever guilty

Of this crime

In your mind

So with lifetimes apart

You’ll always hate me

For loving me

And I won’t apologize

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Hurt

I know what pain looks like

I know the tears that come from bloodshed

I know the heartache of loving and losing

I know the scratches that show up from bended knees at pulpits

I know the dark marks that are seen on prostrated foreheads

I know the scars that are carried by paleros

I know the blood trickle from the heads of santeros

I know vaguely the tranquil state of monks

I know sadly the wickedness of man

I know… which is why I hurt

Hurt

©Axel Garcia

Puerto Rico Eres Tu

Puerto Rico Eres Tu

(Para Mi Papa)

Parade winds

Remind me of you, Pa

The crackling of conga skins

Drenching the shirts I still own of yours, Pa

Que Isla Tan Bonita

Flags waving your silhouette forevermore, Pa

Eres el orgullo que tengo en mis venas

Saludo tu memoria cada mañana

My land is your outstretched arms holding me

Pa

I want to kiss every part of my Island

Porque respira con la sangre de mi Papa

Todavía puedo sentirte

El calor de tu aliento en las palmas de coco

Este dia es para ti

Puerto Rico eres tu

Y siempre te amare! Pa

A Poem with No Name

Must it be said?

I see those tears

Washing away what they did

Wish me a better man

So as to exact revenge

But

Guilty I stand as well

Words that cut like swords

I no longer want to defend

Such is the end

When hurt turns to pleasure

Must you know?

That I’m ready

We are all participants

In the trampling

Such is the end

I promise to hold both your hands

As I watch you plan your escape

I won’t blame you

I won’t hold you back

It’s okay…

A poem with no name.

I’ll leave it here for you…

She Says

She says

I don’t look like me anymore

That the hunch in my back is more pronounced

Sunken, was the word she used

She says

my scars are in trenched deeper

Revealing my truer nature

She says

the cuadro espiritual that surrounds

My aura is too blinding with its brilliant hues

For her black and white ways

For she says she carries the blessing of Issa

Yeshua came to her in a misa

Blowing smoke in her face de el cigarro

Agua Ardiente balanced perfectly

In the other hand

Now replaced by the wine

But me

She says

No longer holds the blessing of the father

Like the baptismal waters drowning

The sins of her past

I am not worthy of her love

For she now is bonded by a holier spirit

His preaching more attractive than mine

His Gods holding more promise than mine

My devotions make her cringe with remorse

Of the times we’ve shared together

She says

that only his blood cleans away

The prints of my love off her body

Like holy water in an exorcism

So I wait in the shadows

Like the cypher of Lu

Wanting to shatter her doubts

Because though

She says

What she says

Her spirit still calls out to me

In the far reaches of her soul

Where only I can ever exist

Crossroads

Crossroads

I flirt with the end

Balance beam everything

So I can feel Grace

It’s shame and blessing

Of exclusivity and at once excluding

A Child of crossroads

Playing hide and seek

This way or that

Loving and despising

The tightrope

Choking what is left and right

Closing my eyes

To recall the thrill

Of it all

The ease of which I bring

Sweet Suffering

To my doorstep

And to speak of boundless joy

I only toggle in its surrender

#newpoem #poetry