Poetry...

...speaks to the mind, which replenishes the soul. It quenches every emotion that we might be feeling and extinguishes any feeling of sadness we might have. Poetry fulfills every emotion all at once. The end product is extraordinary. Writing poetry has opened many doors in my perception. It has allowed me to see different things I may have never experienced. It has allowed me to understand what others might be going through. I was able to purchase a copy of Emily Dickinson's poems. I am excited to read it over the winter break! School takes a lot of my time, but it definitely is rewarding!

 I hope that you all have a wonderful time on this December. As a son of God, I treasure Christmas day. Not because of its presents, not because of the lights, not because of the fancy designs, not because of the pine tree, and not because of the break... Christmas day is special to me because it is the day we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Thank you all for reading my poetry! Stay strong in what you believe in!

I leave you with a quote I wrote on a whiteboard on my study break today. We must exercise all of our talents! That makes all the difference. Hope you are all having a wonderful day. It rained here in Fullerton, CA today. It was nice to finally get some rain. Warm wishes to you all!


-Erick Flores

The Diary (Original)

Original Photography by: +Trey Ratcliff

You went back to that.
At the blink of an eye,
You changed.
Why do you hurt me?
And later ask for forgiveness?
Was our tie not enough?
It's beautiful how you hurt,
An art displayed in my pain.
I'm no where being perfect,
There is only God.
We are only man,
Persons united,
Equal before His eyes.

We have learned,
Power comes with responsibility.
Distinguishing right from wrong,
Is the power,
It  longed to be suppressed.
We are the victims,
Together we stand hand by hand.
I don't blame you,
I blame what came before you.
That's right, nothing made sense,
That's the way life should be.

Erick Flores

Orange County (Original)

Huntington Beach, CA
Part of Orange County

Once named Orange County,

For its abundance of citrus,

Now sits atop, captivating.

It is mostly viewed amongst,

Those seeking extravagance,

The cities that were once treasured;

Familial, comfortable, calm.

Now inhabits the most busy cities,

With shopping malls in every corner.

Has it really lost its tradition?

Where do these orange trees lie?

They are lost; people’s ambitions,

Has erased what this county had left

Of the old living cultural tradition.

-Erick Flores

Artist (Original)

Original Photography by: +Lotus Carroll
https://plus.google.com/u/0/102476152658204495450/posts
For artists, with a heart like yours!
-Erick Flores

I see your eyes, it is another realm,

Your eyes perceive a different world,

Not one that I am accustomed to.

They distinctly speak to me,

Superb, you captivate my soul!

Your words are marked colors,

Pastels in different temperatures,

The expressions they provoke,

So much desire blended in hues,

Your world clearly resembles

The genuine beauty in life,

You are bold in description,

Honest in perception; concept.

Admirable, your eyes truly are.

-Erick Flores

© copyright Thu Dec 08 06:02:24 UTC 2011 - All Rights Reserved

Runners (Original)

Original Photography by: +Lotus Carroll
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/102476152658204495450/albums/posts/5658263260956219042

The clock is ticking in the lonely living room,

The owner suddenly sweeping in like a broom,

Begins his normal business for the day,

Has to make way for the date by the bay.

He was swift in action; time was a barrier,

He wondered if he would eventually be a carrier.

He missed the seconds, the wind blew,

She waited a second longer, becoming dew.

How the tears ran without being kind.

If only she knew that she ran in his mind,

And if only he knew she was running,

Running in the damp sand, stunning.

They were both runners in each other’s minds,

Each having a special part in the race that binds,

The long lasting ribbon that gathered,

All simple thought that they had mastered,

Now she remains like the clock,

Alone, afraid to be lifeless like the rock.

-Erick Flores

Flying Fish (Original)

Original Photography: +Elena Kalis
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/114536133164105123829/albums/5627836408512115217/5655684568126901666

I wish I was a bird so I could fly forever,

Where the skies are the only limit,

Where I can breathe the fresh winds,

And savor the soft, mellow clouds,

That will carry me on and on and on.

Here I only taste the saltiness of the blue,

Why settle, when I can have the sweet?

My flight is limited, the ocean level ends!

These gills are scars that have hindered.

As I make my approach to the sky,

The winds swiftly harm my being,

Take me out of the air, I can’t breathe.

-Erick Flores

Compassion (Original)

Original Photography by:+Mitch Debrowner
https://plus.google.com/photos/113020499347875878373/albums/5662458098444992481/5662458206214569266

 

It interrupted the sunny morning,

It transformed it into gloom,

I awaited the wrath to come,

The Earth cried immediately,

Leaving traces on the rich soil,

All living creature hid from it,

They were compassionate!

Earth gave its last cry; the storm,

It devoured everything on its path;

It was hungry for sympathy.

It reminded us all of the fact;

The Earth is very much alive.

There was peace in the chaos.

Always will be.

-Erick Flores