Life is short and we only get one, so why not make the most of it?

It’s tricky getting older, losing pieces of who I believed I was, finding quieter, more truthful and solitary pieces settling into their places. We all assume forever, then wake up one morning counting

In the Middle of Somewhere In the middle of somewhere, life suspends its breath, neither beginning nor end, only transit and mystery. There, time comes to a halt, we are not what we were, nor what we will

the barnyard and the red wheelbarrow – Grandma inside coveralls. backend first, black cows heave up swallowing cud the slick hay in our green manger – the hay rustles sibilant. Within a globe of fog miles

source Marionette and ventriloquist. Although, it is invisible, As the string attached to it is indiscernible. And it acts realistically, To suit a notion and make it idealistic. Though statuette; They

The Lightning Flash of the Moment To live intensely is to dance on the edge of mystery, it is to let the blood sing with every heartbeat, to let the soul expand like an overflowing river, and to let the

Published Poem

Prose Poem

It is just a way. source It is just a way, The way forward is walking each day. For it is known, that joy is flown. But what of the fragile, tagged as the senile? To illustrate the show, Elevation is a

Between yesterday and today, all I have left is tomorrow... We are fools for not valuing life.

Prose Poem

Prose Poem

Regulation is a grip. Flip flop, Hop to the top, Sip the tip, Prop the plop, Hip the clip, Dip the grip, So it is all about flip flop, To crop, Or to stop, To ship, Or to go trip, So if it flip and flop,

Prose Poem

Prose Poem

Prose Poem

We don't belong in this world, the realization begins with an ache, a vague sense of longing, for a life of more meaning, that we so badly need to be true, Shortly after, comes an insatiable lust to brush

I was never good with change because once I loved you, I never wanted to let you go. I promised to love you forever. I made a vow to myself to never let someone down or feel without. I know what it's like

Fuente Hola, comunidad, este poema está dedicado a mi hermano Eduardo Jesús Martínez Santana. En él menciono a su esposa - mi cuñada- y a sus hijos - mis sobrinos-. Gran parte de mi obra poética refleja

source Is the one holding to note. The eye looked as if it were sleepy, Although it is not night setting in Peepy. The lip turned curled like a-while, With a smile that lights up the tactile. Putting a