I come to you, yes, to work hard just like you. To work hard, Grow like you. You? I say. My land cannot Let me grow. Pain. Melancholy. We must leave. While different culture, We are the same. We? You say. You, I say. In return, I bring our culture. To share it yes, to share it! Our gifts harvested for generations. Hindered by ... Yet, It's thee Beautful Grief Makes my culture Beautiful Art. Art? It says? We bring you Beautiful Grief, Art, in return. Alas! Be not, please, taken away from me, But embrace like precious art. Our story.
The Lousy Performer
Snow globes are, in my humble opinion, one of my favorite artifacts to collect. To see how perfect they are, how they resemble the most perfect shape I can think of. There are no sharp ends or unusual lines; it’s never ending and predictable. Me, acquiring two of them, am a victim of those powerful pupils that ensure me peace as the lights reflect on them.”
It is the theme of this girl’s composition, who in nerves seats to perform the most important work of art until now. Still, it is not easy that this ol’ boring, repetitive piece is about to play once again, but the audience sits and tolerates this once again just for pity. Everything is still, except for the little girl’s nervous arms, and the souless person who’s ready to cough as soon as she begins, Before the greatest performance is about to begin, everyone rolls their eyes in a perfect circle, followed by the hissing of the audience’s growls.
The concert hall is filled with the sound of her soul. Day and night did she sit down to pour her heart into it; one should have seen her. Even when that one person can’t stop coughing, she manages to convert these into part of meticulous rhythms in her piece. Suddenly, a big man, well tuxedo and in his forties, stood up in the middle of the performance, in standing ovation. “Quite odd,” She wondered, but it was probably just a mistake. The ovation just kept getting louder, and it began to irritate that poor girl who put her heart and soul in such delicate composition. To counteract, she also began to play louder in hope it would drown the lousy ovation. Yes, the outstanding ovation is what many performers strive for, the praise, the fame; isn’t that the result of a good performance? She had other plans though. It was a chance to predicate her philosophy, and shake that emotional brain of the audience… and now this insensitive man was taking her chance to do so.
…and now another man stands in ovation.
Two?
She began playing louder. Then, another person stands, and another, then another. Out of nowhere, everyone is standing, praising a yet unfinished work of art. This poor girl keeps getting louder, but what is the point of proclaiming her music, if nobody cares? Nobody cares, still they stand in ovation; “is it even for me?” she asks.
Shame.
…and everything begins to melt.
The chapel begins to melt,
the seats begin to melt.
The floor begins to melt,
and the bells,
and the omniscent cross,
and the piano as well.
The music score begins to melt.
People’s faces begin to melt,
and their hands.
Not their clothing though; that doesn’t melt. Everything else melts to the point when everything melted. She was left alone without anything except the audience’s clothing in an entirely black surrounding. There was nothing else to contemplate as the only art left laid standing confused with no audience to surprise.
She fell to the ground and said “It was just a performance.”
She is convinced.
December 25, 2019
Progress to Define “Art” by modern Society
1)
Art? Work, work and don't stop.
Girl, what will you get from it?
Is it misery? Nothing to eat?
Girl, work, work and no thoughts.
Better see you crakin' skulls
why to heal them souls?
o, Dismember is pleasured to show
absurdities I've pointe you for
Listen and Remember
"What is going to help her?"
Work work and no thoughts
Science, hun, is lots.
2)
Screams of allure, and family ties
About her future, considerable lies.
And in confusion, she only cries,
What We must do for the sake of honor,
Mind is hardened as choir of horror,
Many futures echo, "I am in sorrow."
3)
Dear reader, look! She is searching for aide.
Then, to angel she clings and tells the message She made.
"Damn her!" he squealed, and of course, briskly babbled,
"It just makes no sense," for she makes no sense?
Is it me who's at wrong? For
What are dreams if no one is by my side to support them?
The loss of Faith for everything I have done,
Slowly creeps back as pain that has been gone.
With eleven fingers plus the mind of Dr. Einstein,
Maybe, probably equals They would understand.
But, when will it equal acceptance?
When multiplied misery to he I glance?
And please my family at want?
Also miss my chance to shine
or maybe inspire you
and entertain others.
O Patriotism! Ignorant hypocrites!
no.
4)
News flash News flash,
Beautiful artistry has come to end
every flower surrounds to obey
Nature's eternal way, ironically
people (too) surround joyfully
Society's perfect guide to abide...
Beautiful day out here in Midway
from Salsa Town to Classical Bay
may our meteorology mend
everyone a beautiful day
5)
O Glorious Apollo,
Don't let her go.
Choirs guide her
Up up higher.
And there's more doubt
For families won't stop bragging about...
One day they'll change.
Maybe.
Paseo Para Una Eminencia Heroica
Un héroe se levanta,
Sonría y sonroja
Al ver un pueblo unido
Sin favor a circunstancias.
Pelea día y noche,
Sin armas pero amor .
Baja de un pedestal,
Camina con los demás .
Este es un héroe
Sin capa pero honor,
Con patria a su nación.
Que Dios lo bendiga
Un gran campeón.
A Hall for a Heroic Prominence (Traslation from Spanish)
A hero gets up,
Smiles and blushes.
Seeing a united town
Without circumstances.
Fight day and night,
Without weapons but love.
Gets off a pedestal,
Walk with others.
This is a hero
No cape but honor,
With patriotism to his nation.
God bless you
A great champion
Cup of Tea
I saw once a leaf ,
Fell down from that tree,
swinged left and right,
But nowhere to be.
I thought of me, a plain, useless son,
Who couldn't compose from his own soul.
In pain I ran, away from my town.
I couldn't bear the thoughts of my own.
Then, I saw a man under the same tree,
It was amazing, he played music through a leaf.
Yes! You heard me, music through a leaf!
It gave meaning to silence, it gave meaning to him.
He paused and told me "go get some rest son,
Maybe tomorrow you may have a good song."
Once at home I made some tea
Put some leaves and sat on a seat.
"Maybe," I thought, "I can be like a leaf."
It doesn't matter how I swing, but
How to serve in the hands I fall.
Perpetual Legacy
One window is the door
To a whole new world,
When only you are ashore
Between not one but four walls.
But that wall would lead you
Between a pathway or two,
And you chose the road of fulfillment,
Now a journey in eternal torment.
And your eyes immersed,
An oddyssey of unreachable opportunities,
While your mind has painted
The testament of new discoveries.
You look at your hands, full of projects,
And at your feet, desiring transport.
Then at your heart, ready to perfect.
Finally at your mind,prepared to teletransport,
But your mass can't cross a window
For you are still in between four walls.
only confort given is a pillow,
To lie there for time be gone.
Close window prives anyone of true beauty,
Only 'till one's acceptance of true destiny.
So, lie and die here, but listen carefully,
Encounter plenitude by writing your story.
Inspire multitudes with perpetual legacy.
Trauma
Dear Trauma,
It takes one day
To earn you
Or maybe
It may take years
Of constant pain.
So many memories
All of ‘em so unforgettable,
Affect my life choices,
Defines who I am.
Dear Love,
It takes not one day
To earn you
Or maybe
It may take years
Of constant struggle.
So many memories
All of ‘em so unforgettable,
Affect my life choices,
Defines who I am.
Dear Self,
Can’t you see?
One or the other must stay,
And the other must go.
My Old San Juan
To see birds flying elegantly
Above the skies of Old San Juan,
They enjoy observing happily
The swimming of the swans.
Swans swim and seem
Thinking only of peace,
Relaxed still lead
Lives of happy dreams.
Trees give a sense of safety,
Breeze provides confort
To the spirits that flea
The heart on San Juan's fort.
Horses discovered new land!
If in the New World they can
Serve their nation with pride,
Their lives willingly supply.
Tainos have a family,
For them work restlessly
Without fear or pain,
'Cuase at the end of the day,
Together their heads can lay.
Reasons to fight over Old San Juan?
Having from them no peaceful plan?
None of them fully mature
To comprehend their greed's allure.
Then the Spanish came
Again with their tricky games,
Started as peaceful foreigners,
Now keep us in dreadful chambers.
...
The water unable to manage to beauty of nature,
The Spanish drink and control both.
The Birds fear,
The Swans fear,
The Trees fear,
The Breeze fears,
The Spirits fears,
The Tainos fear,
The Water fears,
And the Noble Horses as well.
But none of them will stop for
The Bird still watches over the rest,
And the Swans still lead others.
And the Trees still protect from the storm,
And the Breeze still eludes to a better future,
And the Spirits still tell their stories,
And the Tainos still serve their masters,
And the Water still gives beauty for nature,
And the Horses are still loyal no matter what.
...
The Sun is shining,
And the rooster singing.
Waking up this morning,
Taking new beginnnings
To contemplate the elegance
Of Old San Juan's ignorance.
One’s Precious Time
You were looking for a solution,
So much work for one conclusion,
But you can't find one for
The answer is not on someone,
Neither is it on a thing.
You have to think
Where the answer lies,
Whether it's beyond lies,
Or right in front of your eyes.
All it takes is:
To speak up,
Or shut down,
To take action,
Or let others take it for you,
To set your dreams and pursue them,
Or others impose dreams on you,
To find the love of our life,
Or it be lost looking for you,
To reach for her hand,
Or let the prescense fall,
To find joy,
Or die without accomplishment.
You were looking for an answer,
So I gave you a solution.
You were looking for inspiration,
So I gave you my hope.
You were looking for anything,
So I gave you everything.
But something was still missing,
And your soul felt empty,
So I gave you human's most precious offering,
One's precious time.
Stand
Sometimes,
We wish to understand
Us people on this land,
And wasting too much time
forgetting those who cry.
Sometimes,
We wish to understand
How does evil can,
And how we can't,
But never the power of man.
Sometimes,
We wish to understand
Where in society we stand
While hands tied in bands,
No options left to find.
Sometimes,
We wish to understand
That bird of liberty,
Wings spreaded freely,
And posture finally stands.
And we can finally sleep.
Alex's Reflections 