300 million people worldwide struggle with depression. I cannot imagine your
pain or dismay,
but I pray that your incentive
is to live for today. Reaching around my life, I moved my arms 'Broken'
The book is a raw account of my mental health struggles, trauma and how it all shaped me. It deals with some of the complex feelings I grappled with because of my depression, fears and anxiety. In the end will I lose you? And trapped with the memories of how they once sounded. (I hear New York, too.) My escape to freedom denied
Whitney Fancher, Wondering Why Am I Here By
But they were without wings To let the souls fly without any restriction, I wish I could change my skin according to the society, Than I'd be standing in front of my old reflection Without it life would be hell. Broken Wings A bird cannot fly with broken wings So much sadness those wings will bring Heal those broken wings birdie, then you'll fly Flapping those wings gracefully, heading for the sky~~~ 4 Lines - Broken Wings I'm running a new series of contests (until my points run out!) 507 following. Long before four families to a one room studio apartment, Long before streets paved with gold with climates that are cold, Long before they are taking American jobs, Before Delores Huerta, Cesar Chaves, Rudy Lozano, Alejandro Molina, Emma, Before the Brown Berets, and the Chicano Movement, Before Si Se Puede before Chicano power, you need papers to get papers of course, Of course what I was thinking, I have no. Why couldn't I help? Stain of man
They feel mass produced, literal examples of excess in action. I may look able-bodied and healthy on the surface, but I live with a litany of mental, emotional and physical ailments. The poet writes away imaging, creating conditions, Writing the myth and all its wonderful exaggerations. Broken Wings by Kat S - Family Friend Poems, Poems For Elementary Students (Grades 3-6), Poems For Primary Elementary Students (Grades K-3). Conceived by the earth, rain, wind and the fire of our origins. Eyes lost, full of pain and misused love. I've always struggled with negative thinking and self-loathing, so finally being able to learn to love and accept ME was a huge step forward. Her warmth shatters the cold and stops the bleeding. Im spelling words with pills, When I ask Paolo how to draw the line between And Satan's sting
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. Read Poem 2. Long before tears of blood that rained down by a Spanish cross, A land that we the Olmec, Mayan, Zapotec, Toltec, Mixtecs, Before murdered Africans, thrown into the deep dark sea, Before those that escaped to maroons communities of resistance, Long before stolen gold, stolen land, people and labor, Long before Hidalgos bell ringing for independence. I focused so much on everyone else that I started leaving myself behind. Breathing gets harder and I began to shake. If youre one of them or suspect someone you love may be, seek help from someone you trust. on the sides of their necks. all hell quietly commit to is that isnt funny., A post shared by ATTICUS (@atticuspoetry). I had lived a life of avoidance and timidity, my fears of abandonment and co-dependency forcing me to fold and contort to a life of constant people-pleasing. Life, society / They used to be so beautiful and proud,
I would see her by my locker, in front of me, On the way home from school and this Morena, Had shades as dark as coffee with no cream, At times she was the most beautiful color ever seen, But this evil color that I had come to love so dear, Like no other known to exist in all of creation, Morena was like a color never seen, a fragrance never smelled, She was in my dreams and again I loved her, The way she danced to the rhythms of the world, Just enough to catch a glance of her beauty, And Morena was coveted by all men of the Earth, She gave birth to Che, to Cesar, to Tejarina, to Zeta Acosta to Benito Juarez, To kings in Africa, to children in the Middle East, Morena made by God, cleaned kitchens, mopped floors, And still cooked tortillas frijoles and carnitas, Worked in plants, in foundries, in factories, Worked the fields as good as any man, if not better, She crossed the border by river, by land, by ocean, Gave birth to revolutions, artists, philosophers, Civilizations advanced in mathematics, in architecture, Raised her rifle to France, to America, to Spain, She was beat, abused, hooked on dope, smack, Put up with your punk ass only dating White girls, Had her chest sag just so you could grow and be healthy, Did your laundry and the Jones to make a few extra dollars. Only those who've accepted God's Holy Grace
But it might have been Luis from up the block, We had planned a bombazo at La Casita De Don Pedro, There was an ocean of beautiful Puerto Rican People, even the drunks who dont seem to care about anything where yelling, this just in live from Humboldt Park the third riot in 40 years, why the Puerto Ricans riot? Academy of American Poets, 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. Are the things I crave
"Tulips" by Sylvia Plath
About Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms Privacy Policy & Safety How YouTube works Test new features NFL Sunday Ticket Press Copyright . I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. Now I'm a proud author, live performer and poet putting in the work to make his dreams a reality. Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator. (I mean I try to wait for dark) You pushed her so hard, though she can't, till she fell and broke her wings. Burning my skin everywhere there is contact. Making myself the mystery, (Dont) Call Me Crazy: 33 Voices Start The Conversation About Mental Health, This Might Not Make Sense Now, But Dont Worry, It Will, May 2023 Horoscopes and Book Recommendations, Expand Your Bookshelf With These 8 Interstellar Books Like The Expanse, The Best Sci-Fi Spaceships from Across the Galaxies. Mankind's Idols are the devil's lies
Hosts Poems are the property of their respective owners. Life is often quite difficult to understand, manage, decipher and steer, so it's no surprise we humans turn to higher powers. I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses as if their little legs were only Burning my skin everywhere there is contact. Yet so beautiful. I struggle with mood swings and erratic emotions that can change with a mere glance or sigh, because my inner monologue is so tainted with depression and anxiety. For(Dont) Call Me Crazy: 33 Voices Start The Conversation About Mental Health, this meant spending a good chunk of time listening and reading a wide range of voices, including digging deep into excellent depression poems. This one includes my certitude that I'm enough to win, alone. I wanted to show love to all the people fighting battles we can't see. Was this the place that was in his dream? The rain drums down like red ants, Became a doctor, a lawyer, president of a corporation, Started her own business, fought fires, opened minds, Became a poet, an artist, a congresswoman, a teacher, Poem for Puerto Rico National Hero Filiberto Ojeda Rios, he was commander of a Puerto Rican, national resistance organization Los Macheteros and was assassinated by the U.S government in 2005, bullets of lead and fire shot from guns of steel, those empty of space allow for light to peek through, in the presidential palace floors soaked and dripping, And the bullets that bloodied the streets and country side. 1.How does the use of anaphora(repetition of a word at the start of a sentence) in stanza 3 help the reader understand the struggle the Author is trying to convey. I don't want money
and they cry out as they hit Fox, Apache, the Cherokee, Anasazi, the Iroquois, Potawatomi, the Olmec, the Toltec, the Mayan, the Zapotec, the Mexica we the Aztecs, all the peoples of Mexico. I often can't stand any version. For once you lose your
faith or all hope,
you also lose your
ability to cope. All stories are moderated before being published. I had to learn to love and rely on myself, no matter the outcome. And they will say One Nation Under God, Nuclear war, acid rain, and the sky turning gray, The daily pounding of violence and urban decay, Babies will be conceived and killed on the same day, Soon they will be infected by mans society, Religious theology, political policy and sly-cology., I can remember her name was Erica a pretty brown skinned girl, She had two children Tinisha and Anthony they were her whole world, But Erica had many secrets she would hold, I would see her often over by the laundry mat, We would just sit back in the shade drink a Pepsi and chat, She would go on about her dreams and how she wanted, A man with money and drove a baby blue Cadillac, How often they forgot she was someones daughter, It was cool with me though I understood her logic, I knew the secrets that she held inside and I knew her story, Leave her at home alone at the age of two, Dropped out of school and said Fuck the lessons!, At the age of thirteen she started laying with, Any fast-talking hustler who would have her, By fifteen she was with this abusive cat that, There was no one around to tell her to leave him, She was too in love with new clothes, cash, Sixteen with a child she didnt know what to do, But Erica saw the world in one color and that color was blue, Five holes in his skull from the blast of a gun, Erica had a child to take care of and another one, And the stresses of being a single mother, And without it she received a slave lashin, Her life was crashin with no hope in sight, To crack cocaine and could barely manage to fight, But Erica only saw the world in one color and that color was blue, That Erica had turned to the oldest profession, What was a one time thing took a progression, So she went and got tested for immune deficiency, She did not believe in the tests accuracy, Erica only saw the world in one color and that color was blue, Erica would lay out on the street and just stare, She begged for money but no one wanted to hear, She was no longer a mother daughter aunt or wife, The cycle was inevitable and was destined to continue, Only saw the world in one color and that color was blue, In the beginning when woman and man were nothing more than in, There was an unreal peace over all the inhabitants of the Earth, And yet God wanted to be loved and cherished, And man to sit alongside each other as caretakers of the Earth, And amidst all the creations of her heart, She placed man and woman above all and gave them free will, But alas, out of mankinds free will came the ability to question, And from the tree of knowledge came the evils of mans heart, Over time man multiplied and no longer saw each other as brothers, But as intruders on land that God created for all creatures, And man did not listen to the one Creator, Now man made their own gods and died for stone, Man died for land that was not theirs to own, And killed over the land that God created, Throughout the land metal swords and iron shields, Brother against brother, clan against clan, and tribe against tribe, Suffering was imposed on those who were weak, And the Earth soaked with red from the blood of man, Over time man developed and created more weapons, From stones and spears, bows and swords, shields and crossbows, Came a black powder and from that powder came muskets, cannons, and rifles, For religion, principle, country and in the name of God conquered nations, And created weapons and machines of mass destruction, And man killed and imprisoned and murdered one another, Only this time the toll of death was like never before seen, The whole world went to war twice in less than forty years, From the rifle came rapid firing rifles developed into machine guns, And from steel and iron came machines never before seen, Jeeps, tanks, and planes missiles and land mines, grenades, It could destroy all of creation by the push of a button, And man developed more and more advanced weapons of mass destruction, Man created missiles that could be fired thousands of miles away. I've rarely ever been at ease or at peace, even with my frustrating lack of urgency. Reminding me of my once known glory
I'm doing all I can now to change course. from my father Question 1.1. Will Reyes is a writer, poet, and author from Los Angeles, California. These wings are torn and tattered, no longer able to carry me. lives they do pray. of Mexico, Cuba, Panama, Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Honduras, and the many other places, the same bullet that drips red onto street corners, no matter how many times hands are washed, but bullets cant silence voices of truth, That hopes to create beauty from what is chaos, To create stories of inspiration from tragedy, Revolutionaries die because they dare to love, What are the thoughts of those that bleed, Is It the same as those that are confined to cells, Dying bleeding to death for over 24 hours, why did they not hold as they would hold their children, why did they not hold you as I would have, close to my heart so you could feel it beat, which of us will clean the wounds of Filberto, or because we agreed on every aspect of his life, but because we was willing to give his life, of Oscar Lopez Rivera and Carlos Alberto Torres, through bars of steel on floors of concrete, She told me to imagine and see the world as poets do. I've never felt more alone, but this is a different type of solitude. All Instagram logos and trademarks displayed on this application are property of Instagram. She replied, Hush my child there is more to my prophecy. Because before you can eat it, you have to order it. You can read this poem and learn more about my life story in my new book, available now as an e-book ($9.99) or an autographed paperback ($35, 344 pages). 29 Likes, 14 Comments - Will Reyes | Mental Health Poetry | Broken Wing (@writtenbywill) on Instagram: "A special reading of my poem "5150" from my second book "A WAR Within." @da_poetry_lounge is the" When will this all end and go away? Made cities to float on the sea ready for a full assault, To infect enemy nations, man developed machines to kill with no conscience, satellites to hear the enemy, Only this time she did not cry for the dead, Many say, Lets eat from the same plate., Many of the messages are hidden and sublime, I focus on reaching the land of plentiful, To work early in the morning in the fields. The copyright of all poems on this website belong to the individual authors. It's featured in the "WIN" chapter of my new memoir "WILL TO WIN," a 344-page mix of my life story and raw poetry. whisper? Its garden, enormous marketplace, running fountains, Its spectacular temples, all managed to whisper to us then and now, Transformed into the virgin saint of the people then and now, Dia de los Muertos, alters to our loved ones that passed into the afterworld, The great temples to the sun and moon of Teotihuacn, The magnificent Olmec heads carved in stone to look at us for eternity, All slipped through in the echo of a whisper, blown in the winds of our collective memory. A man awakens from his sleep
Where were his belongs that he did keep? Raymond Martineau. Stain of man
Slowly she walks forward and takes my hand. I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I just want God's love
He works in music industry promotions and digital media and has a degree in Journalism. "Will To Win" by Will Reyes is available now as an ebook ($9.99) and signed paperback ($35+$5 shipping) via the link in my bio. Where did they getThem two fine cars? Lost and alone. Wrists scarred and bleeding. Jets that fly high into space, nuclear submarines to sit quietly on the ocean bottom. Old preacher manPreached that boy awayCharged Five DollarsHis girl friend had to pay. You can read about that journey and relate to the struggles in my new memoir, available as a hard copy or E-book. As high as the mountains, as high as the stars. I'm finally learning to embrace myself in all facets and forms. A melody only meant for my ears, just those three words are my song. While we stand by and watch the poor get killed
Will Reyes | Mental Health Poetry | Broken Wing he/him. Tears sting my eyes. Are the things that I crave
Worst of all, harsh reality showed me that people aren't nearly as genuine or selfless as they present themselves. Wondering what happened and where I am. Weak, easily discouraged, and without pride,
Yet so beautiful. He uses his poems as an emotional outlet for himself and helps people connect with these feelings. Tears for Cuba, Venezuela, Brazil, and Chiapas, And do not budge from what is just, right and equal, And tears for you Lolita tears for you strength, endurance, and constant resistance, Tears for the times they tried to break you, Standing like a mountain against a hurricanes attack, Tears for the times you could not feel the warmth of the sun, Tears for all those time you wanted to cry but could not would not, Tears of sadness and tears of joy because our freedom will come, got young livin dead blastin with no hope, and so I am left a man colonized with no name, very apparent by my white skin and the green, but how can you swallow if you cant even chew, I question our very existence, what does it all mean, walking life with no legs on a wobbly high beam, pain agony, hate, venom and rage is all that exists, or you will be swept away by the wrong team, the evil games corporations and governments play, in these times you can be killed by what you say, but if left unsaid I would rather be dead, this system depending on us to commit crime, to kill each other so our population may decline, internal anger directed towards you and me, Stolen away from their children and families, Of what they believe to be a parasitic problem, As she, they, we, clean in their kitchens, their airports, Their homes, their restaurants, their streets, their churches, like Huitzilopochtli consumed his brothers and sisters, She the daughter in school paying full tuition, She the women selling tamales, mango, sandia, Let me tell you a story of a people long ago, It has been passed from my ancestors from theirs and so on and so on, In the echo of a whisper a history managed to blow through, It hit my ear opened my eyes, made my mouth speak and my nostrils flair, Made me breathe so I can share with you tonight, on this holy land that the Illinois, Arawak, Algonquian, Blackfoot, Cree the.
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