Fighting Spirit

Miserable pain
Inflicted within this brain
These thorns piercing
This embodiment of a shell.

This so-called heart
Ripped to pieces
Forgotten reasons
Yet here they are.

Seems so far back
Of these Memories
Of Broken heart
With shattered wings
Too vivid
To let it pass.

Domino’s theory
Heavier as it passes
Yet here I am
Hopeful  of a new light
Leaving this
Hopeless being behind.

Dancing through new horizons
Preparing to fly
Yet stepping
Through new shattered pieces
Left to shatter this fighting spirit.

No
Not any more
Even with bloody soul
And with these pierced soles
Dancing
Elevating
Through night and sun
Even with pain
These wings
Will extend…

And fly
Fly through the sky
With the stars
Shining bright
Like diamonds encrusted
In my armor
My shadow
My long friend and companion…

A Fight Within

Powerless encounter
I felt in my self.
I’ve realized
How frail life is
And how the mind
Plays insecure games.

Sometimes
It even dares to kill
Before one builds a barricade.
Even the steps
To stop every enemy within
Is hard to overcome.

A fight
Against my weaker self
Is to unfold.

Tired…
Even breathing
Is tiresome
But I want to live
So I breathe
And I dream
And make plans.

I tell myself
Come on
You can do this!
Just a bit more
Keep walking
Keep wishing
Keep longing
Don’t let yourself collapse.

Don’t…

Just don’t give in.

It might be the beginning
Of a long journey…

Maybe not that long…

Who knows
But don’t give in.

If you fall
Get up!
It doesn’t matter
how long it takes
As long
As you get up
Don’t give up!

Yes…
You are tired
But who isn’t?
Even though it hurts to live
It’s that feeling…
The feeling of pain
That echoes
That resonates
Existence itself.

Yes…
It hurts to touch
Yet to embrace
And be embraced
Can diminish the pain.
Maybe even
Goes away.

Yes…
It hurts to belong
And suddenly disappear.
But without forming warm bonds
Life would be monotonous and cold.

YES…

It hurts when you write
But don’t stop
Write until the pencil falls.
Trace that world
Don’t let it be lost
Into nothingness.

Don’t stop loving
Until your last breath.
Don’t hate
And don’t hesitate
Trust God
And trust in yourself
Give it your all!

This is just another trial
This is just another stepping stone
To a better self.
Hear that?..

It is the sound of
shackles smashing the ground
The sound of liberating yourself
Of shedding that weaker self
And opening your wings
Like being born again
You’re free!
To conquer
Anything you wish.

YES…
You can do this…

Cold To The Bones

Wintertime
Cold and blackout time
People are starving
Thirsty and without a dime.

Pandemic time as well
As panic time
No light to heat
Food in freezer
Has gone bad
Since yesterday.

There should be a distance
Between people
Covid is still at large
Yet forced we are
Abandoning our shelters
For food supplies
And anything
That might warm us up.
Since what we had is perished
Due to lack of light.

But…
It’s not just us
It’s the whole community
We are all suffering
The big board game
The untouchables are playing.
We’re mere pieces
To toss and turn
To give some light
Or to freeze to death.

Zone of disaster we are called
Yet I see all of those big houses
With brilliant lights.
They tell us to unplug everything
They tell us to keep a low temperature
In our thermostat.
They tell us is our fault!

Yet…
I see those big houses
With Christmas lights
I see the businesses
Having their best time.

Is it just me?
Or is this
Just another political gamble
Just another way to torture
The masses in order
To win some big bucks
The old way…

I wonder…

Behind This Door

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

Behind this door
I saw a being mythical to me
With the most beautiful eyes
Baby blue
Almost blurred.

Behind this door
I felt inexplicable feelings.
Curiosity as I held this knob
Stilly I briefly opened the door
Afraid of alerting that being.
Her
Who had to see her son
As her brother.
Her
That I almost know nothing about.

Just like a legend
Unbelievable until you see.
Hidden behind this door
Afraid to scare the fairy away
Thanks to that existence
I’m able to breathe
Yet I’m nonexistent in her life.

I’m only twelve
Why?
Why is it hard to understand?
I’ve been given a great chance
To at least see her
From afar
Yet why am I so greedy…

Behind this door
I met my other self
This envious being
Of those close to her
Of those who can hug her
Of those who can be patted by her
Of those who can be praised by her
Of those who can sit next to her.

Envy
Since I don’t share any traits with her.
She’s like a royal pearl
I’m but chocolate milk.
Her wide baby blue eyes
Against my slanted hazy eyes.

Nothing seems to link me to her
That beautiful being
Only this invisible red thing
That flows in my being.

Behind this door
I was astonished
To the point of crying
I felt the hidden longing
At least a warm hug
At least to be acknowledged
At least to feel my existence.
At least…

That was my first and last
Encounter with my grandmother
Behind this door
Quietly admiring her
That fairy that can not see
But only hear
That fairy
That never knew my existence
Yet she is engraved in mine…

Dirty House

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

Is it the lack of will?
As I take part of the couch
I see the kids running
Screaming
Throwing legos around.

My head throbs
Poisonous cheers
Thorns prickling
My already wounded mind.
Bombs echoing my soul.

I take a look outside
The palms dance
With the beat of the wind.
Like two lovers embracing
Acknowledging each other’s presence.
Bodies entangled
And moving with ease
Circling with poise
What a beautiful sight.
My heart aches
Don’t know yet
If it’s by the lovely sight
Or the rumbling inside.

Teachers bleed their knowledge
I tell my kids “eyes on-screen.”
After a while
They get annoyed
And start hacking the system.
Two screens are shown
One with the teacher
The other
A youtuber it seems.

They forget
I know they do
So I become
That security guard
That unpleasant person
That keeps them on a leash.
I try my best to block
Their indifference
Sometimes
To the point of defiance.
My throat hurts
My heart aches
I block my tears.
They seem startled
For the moment
And back down temporarily.

I see my house being unattended
I keep feeling the urge
Yet they keep looking for an opportunity.
So I sit in this lousy couch
Like a watcher
Feeling insecure
Feeling the pressure
Trying to stop
Screams of joy
So the scholars pay attention.

This feeling of loneliness
This feeling…

I avert my gaze to the window
Once again
I see
Those dancing partners
I’m starting to envy them
Such lovely freedom.

I guess it’s finally getting me

This isolation

This impotence when it comes
To the school’s electronic devices.

The attention I give
To three different grade levels.

At the same time making
Food for them.

Trying to stop words
Coming out from their mouths
I have never said
In front of them.

All thanks to youtube
Thanks to the lack of admins permission
On the school’s electronic device.

Then again
grateful for this device
During these troubling times.

The pressure of them
Making a B or better.

It’s all scrambled eggs
Including the eggshells
They keep hurting
every time I chew and swallow.

I guess
Just like a dirty house
That needs to be cleaned
My soul
Also needs to be cleansed.

Words From Within

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

I wouldn’t say
It’s a poem per say
It’s an out cry
From inside
Bleeding lines
Looking for a healing tonic
To induce an unfinished scar
While praying this pain
Is but another past
Another world
I can cast aside
Another reality
Written in paper
With this humble hand
Deliberating
If I should also
give it breath
Or just burn it
As if a secret mission
Never to be known.

Raw honey
That smoothens
My rough throat
Untying this knot
Giving reign
To this voice
To this pen
To this written page.

Glass like tears
Melted
Purified water
To be drank again
And again
Until others knots
Are untied as well.

Raw words
Not beautified
Just outlined
A beginning to an end
And end to begin
That is all…