Saturday, October 30, 2010

New Days.

I wander in the past
feeling loved and nurtured.
As the years go fast
I fear the future
and what's to come.
I dread not knowing,
but that won't stop the sun
everyday from glowing.
So I awake to face the day
with my head held high
because who is to say
that today I won't die.

Literature in the Marketplace

A woman by the name of Dickinson
wrote as if to maintain her health.
In a way, she simply wrote for fun.
She wrote not for fame, but life itself.

Most managed a meager living.
Life was tough for a writer though.
Always pressed for cash and drinking,
was the life of sir Edgar Allan Poe.

And then there were those,
those much like Emerson,
spoken words are what they chose
and so came the rise of lyceum.

Thus, through poetry and stories of fiction;
along with novels full of sentiment
through powerful lectures spoken with conviction
even in newspapers through the discontent.

And through the 18th century
you can certainly see
the developing of space
for literature in the marketplace.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Amazing Poem (Not by Me)

Cold as winter; strong as stone;
She faced the darkness all alone.
A silver goddess; a reflection.
A mirage; a recollection.
No return; no turning back.
The past is gone, the future, black.
Serpents gather in their nest.
And she stands above the rest.
Shadows hunt; she hunts the shadow.
The moon is risen; she stands below.
She views her world through the eyes of others.
Black and white; there are no colors,
As she looks down upon a shattered youth.
A shattered mirror shows a shattered truth.

-From the book the Shattered mirror
By Amelia Atwater Rhodes

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

incomplete... :P

I have many dreams, aspirations.
So when I'm feeling discouraged
I think of family, my inspirations,
and I begin to feel encouraged.

I know not what my future will hold,
but I'm sure it will all work out
because as my life starts to unfold
I realize what life's all about.

I see now that I've been ungrateful
towards the many sacrifices made.

and I have never taken the time
to say thank you for





For Mom, Tita Liza, Tita Cathy.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Ice Sculpture. 1st Place!

I try not to cry for
it's how I was raised.
so I hold it all in...
as if I was never fazed.

Nothing in life comes easily.
Life can't be put on hold.
And all I want to do is breath,
but my lungs, my heart is cold.

They've shaped me how they wanted
and they say it was out of love,
but I always feel so empty inside.
Is ice what my heart's made of?

For this is no trait inherited.
This feeling so cold in my heart...
Maybe I'm just an ice sculpture,
their cold and hollow work of art.

One day I am going to melt
or perhaps I may even shatter.
I just know someday I will break,
so what does it even matter?

Friday, May 28, 2010

My Life.

I live a great life for I love life.

To me it's simply a stage;
a journey that I must overcome;
being trapped in a wide open cage.
A life I shouldn't have to outrun.

My life is one to embrace;
full of fears that I must face,
but why must I face them alone?
For fear in the mind
is a kingdom to be overthrown.

By Mara Jhozel Almanzor
Written 5/28/10, 4th Period

Sunday, May 23, 2010

whaaat? incomplete

What happens when you try looking forward
but all you see is your past?
You keep running from what you left behind,
but it's impossible when its right there in front of you.
You reach out but its cold
you try to look at the bigger picture
but there are cracks... in this mirror


All you see in front of you are the things you left behind
you see a broken face in a broken mirror
almost impossible to put together
if you [let it crash and shatter]
then it'll hurt just picking up the pieces
so turn around and face your problems
to preserve what really matters.