She Is Paper

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She is paper.

This delicate damsel in distress is represented as a thin slice of purity.

She once stood tall, best dressed, work-invested yet interested

in all the wrong men collected until she felt overwhelmed,

infected by the perception of being misled and submerged.  

Purged, refurbished and processed her gloss is wearing thin,

her sleek chic torn and trimmed from misogyny’s temperament.

Cold-weathered and hot tempered, past mistakes laid her out

face down and their deceit made it easy to mask similar traits.

Suckered into sucker punches and crutches 

she finally had enough of being used and recycled 

so she covered the bruises and lived life 

underneath the illusion that she would one day 

find her soul mate.  

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Excerpt from a spoken word piece that I’m thinkin’ about performing at a later date.

Its inspired by the game Paper, Rock, Scissors where the girl finds herself in a dilemma of being stuck with choosing between two completely opposite men. I won’t elaborate further than that, but hopefully it turns out okay! 

But really, I see this all the time. Women that let themselves succumb to love, only to get crushed and emotionally scarred, then quickly let another guy do the same thing until their hearts don’t have the patience to love another. 

There are some men that still defend chivalry, you just have to take the time to notice.

25.06.09

Shades of Blue

“I think the color blue is so deep.

Deep like the spectacle of seamless shades;

Call me a monochromatic fanatic,

I’m overwhelmed by the embellished sentiment

of baby blue.

It brings me back to younger years

when fear was only from coloring out of the lines

and not going to bed on time.

And sometimes life steps out of the light

but the marks of dark blue that complimented scars

couldn’t stay hidden, good riddance

to destructive friends and leftover love.

And I, I remember love.

Its natural blue is sensual, sexy

a silhouette overcoming the cold

to bring my soul to sunshine

where royal blue rules the world.

Its stone stature holds true to original traditions

reminiscent on the days when there were only two shades.

Now I’m face to face with the vibrant string

of color blue soliloquy,

so leave an open mind and let life

take you across stage

through the many shades

of blue.”

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Something I wrote for a performance back in the beginning of December and was reminded by @itsnotjamilerr and @itsjamilerr ‘s post about a color having different meanings. Follow them by the way, their tumblr posts are dope.

29.12.09

Asian Girl.

Today I encountered an asian girl.

She approached me while I was waiting in my car to pump gas with eyes that were holding back tears and an almost feverish voice, trembling and scared. 

“Excuse me, I’m terribly sorry to bother you but could you possibly spare some cash so I can buy gas? I’ve been driving all the way from Indiana (shows me her license) and have been on E for 37 miles. I’m trying to get to (forgot where she was going) but I ran out of money.”

I instinctively trust a person when I first meet them, no matter how I meet them and how long the duration. So I gave her money, not too much, but I didn’t give it a second thought. 

Could she have been lying? Was she just trying to hustle some unsuspecting working people in a rushed scenario? I’ll never know. Maybe I’m just too trustworthy of a person to think they would lie to me in my face, but the other half of me is snickering, calling me naive. 

I want to trust people. I want to think people just need help sometimes.

Let’s hope that was true today.

17.03.11

The Words Behind My Silence

Like a broken bottle cap,
black-backed and cracked,
my mouth serves as a muzzle. 
Under pressure not to leak, 
drip-drop
spilling secrets to the world.
Carbonated words shaken,
they awake tension.
Blended thoughts rot
unwillingly around teeth,
sweet smiles transform into frowns
holding down speech trying to break free.
Shackled to the tongue,
they beat on nerves like drums
and hum against my lips
just in case I slip
and let some escape.
So they wait and wash upon my gums
like waves rushing up the ocean shore,
collecting more words
to wear down the trenches that 
prevent the fatal flood.
Because once the beach is breached,
the salted wave of words will
invade the brains of those without minds
and in time, 
manifest inside the empty space 
and create a monster.
A machine self-sustained and capable of 
destroying the fabric formed around 
my fragile existence.
So with my lips twisted 
I maintain my fractured state and
stay silent.

04.04.11

APAHMFEST 2011

“To The Death Of…” - Alan DePerio

The spoken word piece I performed at APAHMFEST 2011. 

Premise: My views on our current generation and its dependency on technology

If you got 3 minutes, take a gander and enjoy! =D

(I know it’s a bit too early in the day and no one is going to see this video, but I’m posting it anyways. And yea I’m posting it online, ironic I know.) 

Thank you to Liem  for recording/posting this, and in such high quality. You da besss!

19.05.11

Turn the Volume Up.

I blast my music at times of high stress.

I let the beat flood my brain and wash away all the thoughts that are cluttering my mind. I can’t hear myself think if the bass is vibrating my ear drums. 

I think of nothing but the drop, the hook, the beat. Nothing around me matters as I fall back and let rhythm control my thoughts. It’s like an auto-restart so my mind gets a rest.

27.06.11

“fuckyeahswag.tumblr.com”

Oh god, the plague is worse than I thought. Someone, save the children not affected! Hide them before it’s too late! 

Brb, currently working on a cure.

15.08.11

Her. Part 1.

He stared at her just a second too long. He always does.

She hangs up the phone and sits down next to him. “You ready?” She slaps his knee, only playfully. 

“Yeah, but gimme a minute.” He stares away from her and slouches further into the bench. She puts her bag between them. His heart sinks a little into his stomach.

“So, where do you want to eat?” She’s trying to catch a glimpse of his face, but his attention is invested elsewhere.

“It smells just like it feels out here, huh? Like the sun after the morning dew clears.” He wants to say that it feels almost as perfect as the folds in her summer dress, but his tongue wouldn’t let him. What a coward. 

“Probably because it rained, dude. C’mon, I’m hungry. I’ll buy this time.” She gets off the bench and starts to walk without him. “I kinda feel like Mediterranean or thai…”

“Do you have to rush?” His face is surprisingly surprised. Surprised at himself because he never spoke his own opinion out loud to her before. “I mean, it’s such…a…a nice day. Can’t we just…”

“You just want to sit?” She drops her arms and lets her shoulder bag fall loosely to her wrist. He’s never acted this way before. She’s slightly annoyed but he seems indifferent.

15.08.11

Lucid Dreams.

First off, I want to thank Theraflu for putting me into a drug-induced coma last night, because I’m sure their medicine contains some rufilin. 

Never have I had a more lucid dream than last night. This is me trying to explain it.

Setting: Shopping Mall. Year: Unknown, but slightly futuristic in its mechanical walkways and metallic ambiance. 

*Scene*

We walked through the overhead passage to get to the mall. There was something hidden deeper, something more evil within these walls than what appears on the outside.

The group was silent. We all had a job to do. All of our eyes were fixated towards the doors, all of us concentrating on what was to come, except for one. His mission was different than ours. He gazed at a map, intricate and archaic. The blueprints were definitely not of the mall, but of something built below it, or within it, he never really explained it in detail. I didn’t know him well, but I knew I could trust him.

You could classify our jobs as mere decoys, but we were more than that. Six of us burst through the doors, because being inconspicuous at this point would be futile. They know our faces, our body shape, our voice, down to the way we clench our fists. The seventh man followed behind, making sure the coast was clear before he disappeared into corridors not walked for decades. 

Once we reached the center of the mall, we could see them converging on us. They were only human on the outside. Impostors. The flesh, stolen. The face, foreign to their own. We split up immediately, yet still outnumbered 3 to 1. It didn’t matter, though. He needed time, so we were going to give it to him. 

Three men in suits went after me, throwing people out of the way, knocking over trash bins and breaking through glass to keep up. I had stamina, but it felt like my legs were made of lead. I couldn’t push them to go any faster, and before I knew it, two impostors were in arms reach. We ran past a stand selling clothing irons, and right before I was tackled, an iron met him in the face. Stunned, he flew back and I hit him again for good measure before running again. The next man caught up too quickly, and with nothing to hit him with, I jumped from a bench and landed a side kick to his chest. It wouldn’t stop him, but it slowed him down enough for me to find a janitor’s closet. I disappeared before they found out where I went. There was a man hidden in a deeper corridor within the closet, unwilling to share the space for he knew who I was and would be killed for helping me.

Stuck, trapped, defenseless and completely at the will of the seventh man’s success or failure, I waited. Ready to fight or die. It seemed like hours until there was a knock at the door. I didn’t open it. Another knock. The man in the closet told me to leave or else we’ll both be killed. I hesitated, until I heard a familiar voice. Through the cracks in old blinds that covered a window I did not want to peer through, I saw them. The five I started with. We won.

*Scene*

Shit, that was one of the longest dreams I’ve had in a while. 

23.09.11

lovereyna:

We took a walk
down the path of pasts we wondered.
Reminiscent talks of contemplative conversation,
We pondered the different aspects of culture.
Is America a vulture that feeds off the remains of others?

We took a walk
and explored my past that remained a mystery.
A history of long, vibrant dresses and skin that glowed golden in the sun,
Hair black as night and hips that swayed with the ocean
Nothing ever wrong on an island paradise
Except that is wasn’t his story, but hers:
A succession of stronger women behind strong mean
who all held dreams of going farther than the horizon.
Is America all it seems or could it possibly be more?

We took a walk
After a long talk over spicy, colorful dishes
With savory flavors that stay present in my dialect
Speaking always feeling to flow so effortlessly
As I tried to select the vibes for the always present crowd
that gathers on every possible occasion like the tribes.
It’s always harder to leave in any situation when you have to say goodbye to everyone.
So if I went back to where my grandparents call home, would it feel like how it does in America?

We took a walk
Now finding myself talking with my mother
Who walks with grace and by very definition is a queen.
What does this compilation of trials and tribulation mean?
Looking so serene as she told me of life, pain, and struggle,
I stared as if to ask: What have we gained?
So she explained.
Your grandmother came here with nothing
and hardwork has brought you to everything you could ever be.
So please look, see, and try to achieve.

I believe a crown is in her possession.
In my constant obsession to reach those silver-lined clouds,
I look down at my skin to see I’m already golden.
These hopes and dreams aren’t tales or words simply spoken.

We took a walk
Only then did I realize:
Who we were isn’t who we are,
but brings us to who we are to come to be
and onto everything we could ever become, without a question or doubt.

I like love this a lot. 

(Source: badgalreyrey)

23.09.11