No Heart (Poem)

How do I live when I don’t have a heart

The life I’m living is tearing me apart

How can I get through this terrible day?

Nothing about this makes me want to stay

I’m doing the same thing over for no reason

I originally hoped it’ll only last for a season

All this has done is make me feel numb

But I keep doing it daily, making me dumb

How can I continue living with no heart?

I’ve seem to have lost it, or it fell apart

What a wonderful day, but I choose to waste it

And I wonder why bitter is all I’ve tasted

I wonder if I could ever get lucky again

Because I know this is not exactly the end

I have better choices that I know I can make

But having a heart and drive is what it’ll take

I’ve seem to have lost my will and my heart

And for that reason is why I can’t start

Will I ever be able to just get away

Because none of this make me want to stay

I’ve been there and done with no results

But at least I was able to see and revise my faults

Life can be fun, even I can admit

So, I must have a heart so I can live it

Where has it gone? I keep asking myself why

But to no avail the search has made me cry

Maybe I’m looking in the wrong direction

Or maybe it’s in the mirror, my reflection

I cannot find it, where has it gone?

Maybe I’ll receive it when my race is won

I’m not much of a runner, I can’t keep going

But I’m eager to find my heart is what I’m showing

I think I’ve found it, but not where I expected

Somewhere, internally is where it was detected

I think I am living now that I found my heart

I’ve always had it right from the start

Just Some Art Advice

Things aren’t going to be perfect right away. We all want it to be perfect on our first try, whether you’re drawing, painting, writing, etc.

This is going to be a charcoal drawing of my friend and her fiance. As you can see it doesn’t look like much right now; it could be me and a character from Doug. All art pieces have to start somewhere; they’re all just lines and shading/ coloring when you think about it.


These are a couple of my first timers as far as oil pastels go. As you can see, I used them like crayons; technically there’s no right or wrong way to do art, but oil pastels weren’t really meant to be used like crayons.

After trial and error, I was better able to use the oil pastels in this drawing.


Before

After

Remember, you can’t expect the first line, the first stroke, the first word, first whatever you’re doing to be the same as your outcome of the piece you’re working on. Just work through it and see where it takes you. That’s the beauty of art.

Duende (Poem)

https://nikkropolis.tumblr.com/post/180369745554/duende


This poem is about one of the creepy stories my mom told me from her youth. She told me she and her older brothers were in their room when her brother Larry (may he rest in peace) was looking out the window and saw their brother Martin. Larry then proceeded to ask Martin what he was doing outside but Martin, who was sitting on the bed, fixing a radio responded “what are you talking about?” All of my mom’s brothers looked outside to see a Martin lookalike but only with sharp teeth and soulless eyes. It was compared to a “duende.”

The Scarecrow (Poem)

There you are

Close not far

Waiting patiently

To come alive next to me

I had no clue

‘Til I looked at you

An inanimate object come alive

I was lucky to survive

The fear I felt

When I was dealt

Your loathsome stare

I could hardly bare

Knowing you were in the yard

And there was someone I had to guard

She is who I protected

When it was you I detected

When I went to check again

It was like you weren’t there, my friend

I lit my flashlight down the row

And saw a malevolent scarecrow

I don’t know what you truly were

But you shouldn’t be alive, we concur

No one believed me initially

But you were a reality

I’m glad you are gone

Because you’re the type to cause wrong

You aren’t welcomed here

So stay far away, not near


This poem is based on a story my mom told me when she was in her youth. It was night time when she said one of her brother’s friends was outside with my Nana hanging clothes on the clothing line. What had happened was he was playing around with the flashlight and when he lit up one of the poles, there was a scarecrow hanging at the end and looked up at him. They didn’t have a scarecrow in the yard; my mom told me she heard the friend scream and he was legitimately scared. So, I typed up this poem from his point of view based on what my mom told me.

No Ogres, Please (poem)

Ugly ogre

Very vulgar

Very rude

Very crude

Kind of alarming

Not very charming

Must be insane

Feels no shame

For going incognito

To find about me though

So unnecessary

And also scary

That it will pursue

To find out about you

Pretend it’s a female

To get a detail

About who you are

Even if it’s far

It doesn’t understand

That you don’t want it to be your man

Because it is dense

You’ve got to be more intense

About denying

Even if it’s crying

Because no one wants an ogre

Who is too vulgar

To be at their side

Because it lied

Plus it’s hideous

And’ll make you furious

This is the end

Of my watchful friend.


This is just turning a bad experience into something good. About two years ago, a supposed friend who liked me created a fake profile and portrayed himself as a female to see if I liked him, which I didn’t. Before this happened, I saw a few red flags about what a creeper he was but I dismissed them and gave him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t attractive at all and really did resemble an ogre and was obscene.