The I-Banker

October 26, 2008

~ para Luis ~

Soft corn seed floats atop and sheds its kernel;
Bubbles clear and the air fills with a sweet scent.
Notes filtered through diamond lights sound eternal,
Corralling a figure, gliding with intent.
City skylines greet this man of age vernal,
Viva la vida, budding toward life’s ascent.
A pupil and teacher, he weaves through guan xi,
And dares the market challenge, the stock drop plea.

Newly versed in the tongue of a distant land,
And seasoned in the dance of his native home,
He dwells on mid-ground, dreams with the lower hand,
And eyed with bias, grows in a patch of loam.
Hearing our financial woes, he drafts a plan.
Through a sea of alarming charts, his eyes roam.
Where the tango hands lead, a fiesta dawns.
In New York City, a dance must trail his yawns.

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A Thought

October 17, 2008

Yesterday marks a history;
Tomorrow lies a mystery.
But you can solve it easily
With today’s earnest energy.


A Tree Grows In Brooklyn

October 12, 2008

Down the street, sneakers hang from cable lines.
Along cement walls are graffiti gang signs.
One never walks alone here;
One is never without fear.
Brooklyn: where felons advance their career;
Brooklyn: where the innocent disappear,
A child dreams to become a pioneer.

In the media,
He is painted the shade of sin with the tone of threat,
The source of shame in a dark silhouette.
As if he is invisible yet ominously there,
Sprouting sin and fostering fear.
Roaming the mean streets of Brooklyn,
Grounds nourished in hate and bred for sin,
A child dreams to become a pioneer.

In this hood,
The crime-ridden projects of urban cityscape,
Day shines light on the sight of caution tape,
As the dreadful night before had taken shape
In the ugly forms of homicide and rape,
Of violent theft and victims’ futile escape,
In this vicinity of vice lived in constant fear,
A child dreams to become a pioneer.

In his family,
One might even say that the rumors hold truth,
As blood-kin behave in ways deemed uncouth:
An uncle on the run, and another behind bars,
His father charged for hijacking cars.
His older sister smokes pot outside the corner store,
As his little sister walks from behind to explore.
Yet he holds them dear and dreams to be the pioneer.

He is trampled by hollow assumptions,
Labeled with loathe and stamped with shame.
Using food stamps for daily consumptions,
He etches a living in his own name:
A student with perfect attendance,
And a fine scholar with straight A’s.
He is living with independence,
Fear overcome and peace embraced.

This child dreams to become a pioneer:
A brother who takes care of his sisters at will,
A son who makes his parents proud of him too.
A boy who, towards his ambitions, pursue,
Will one day find all his wishes fulfilled,
To become the man with his dreams come true.

The media can lie.
And people will die,
In this place where calm drowns into a cry,
And yet a tree grows high into the sky.
Living a life of fear with no despair,
A child dreams to become a pioneer.


The Color Of Clear

October 5, 2008

~ dedicated to the children of tomorrow and our friends from days past ~

Pain is the color of clear.
No one can see it but me.
I have it locked up in my body
So no one can feel my fear.

What is the color of clear?
It is the shade of a hundred pictures,
A thousand feelings, a million thoughts.
Emotions revolving around caricatures,
In search of the ideal I’ve been taught:
The perfect angel floating in air.

I distance myself from reality,
Guarding secrets I must hide–
My life, my confidentiality;
No one sees me cry at night.
Hurting myself in sorrow,
Wishing for a better tomorrow–
Imperfection is brutality.

What I see is what I’ll be:
The model student that everyone loves.
The hidden angel inside of me
One day will emerge and fly with doves.

Suicide seems sweet and I have tried,
Punishing myself by day and night.
While my doctor proclaims I’m ill,
Mom weeps aloud as Dad stands still.
I know that I have shamed their pride.

I will try to everyone’s delight,
Sink with gravity and lose this fight,
And in losing, end my woeful plight,
And live to see tomorrow bright.

With all the pain I’ve had to bear,
I feel lost and crushed inside.
I still seek out corners to hide.
Life is not one very smooth ride,
But it is better than having died.

To Deception, I have complied,
Using Paragon as my guide.
I’ve lied and cried, but now I decide
To live what I have self-denied,
And free this pain so crystal clear;
I will give life one more try.

My mind may still engage in mental strife,
But I am so happy to be alive!