Enchanted - Benjamin Moore - 2070-50

She hovered by him, hypnotized,

Under a spell,

Enchanted,

Seeking the attention of his mysterious gaze.

Letting her eyes linger on him.

She kept telling herself

That he was too much,

That she wasn’t enough,

That he was unreachable. 

He was a fantasy,

A dream come true;

And she was

Just her

Innocent,

Serene self.

She was Enchanted,

Entirely mesmerized by him.

Every step he made,

Every breath he took,

Made her thin hands

Tremble

With adoration,

With desire.

To her,

Everything about him was extremely,

Exceedingly,

Extraordinarily

Enchanting.

And she couldn’t help

But say yes

When he -unexpectedly

Asked for a

Kiss;

Since she was blind

With love.

The smooth texture

Of his skin,

The burning

Touch of his fingers,

The thickness 

Of his lips

(That were like the inside of a rose) 

Fascinated her completely,

Left her breathless.

She wanted to fly

With him

But the only thing

He did was

Cut her wings

The only thing

He did was

Hurt her, harm her,

Break her.

She looked around

And wondered

Where her essence had

Gone

When he tried to go

Way too far,

And she doubted her conscience

When she should’ve been

Firm,

Burly,

Brave.

He had shattered

The spell

With his actions

And words.

But she was strong;

Enough, to stand up

Once more.

Flying with renewed vigor,

Strength and stamina.

Enchanted

To have really met him

But not by him;

Anymore.  

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Where I'm From

I am from rag dolls, princesses and teddy bears,

From Fruit Loops and boxed Cracker Jacks.

I am from unmatched, dirty socks sliding on slippery marbled floors.
I am from shiny black curls turning to straight dark hair.
And from disguising with costumes for dancing to the melody of the piano notes.
I am from sunny trips to the beach, and to Disney World,
(Where all your dreams were supposed to come true).

I am from the little, red flowers,
which I used to make necklaces;
and loud dog barks.
From wind hitting my face while playing outside.  

The charming cherry tree in Grandma’s backyard 

Whose cherries I collected and ate

Whenever I could.

I am from family dinners, talks and wise advice,
from dark hair and intelligence.

From Laurencio and Sandra
And Jaen-Dominguez;

From Mom’s reprimands and tight, loving hugs.

I am from the strong shouting across the house,

and memorable smiles and laughter between siblings.

From Don’t bite your nails! Stop goofing around!
And Continue trying!         

I am from Our Father and Holy Mary prayers

Before going to sleep every night,
From Angel de la Guardia 

and First Communion.

I’m from the proud, independent Panamanian Isthmus.

From lactose-free milk and freshly baked bread.

From the Alzheimer digging into my Grandfather-

So much information lost-

And the weird gentleness of my father towards it.

    

I am from moments captured in a million photographs,

From ballet presentation snaps

To family trips and vacations

Neatly placed and saved digitally and in photo albums.

I’m from my family memories and pictures

That will never change
Even if
-in some way-
we all do.

The Many Feelings of Heartbreak, Loss and Solitude

Description: Some may say that love is the most powerful force there is, but what about the opposite of love? Heartbreak: possibly one of the worst and most devastating feelings in the world, both physically and emotionally. And what about two other things that leave you in extreme emotional pain: loss and solitude. Everyone has or will suffer and go through heartbreak, loss, and solitude at some point, and especially poets, which are able to notice this in their lives and get inspired on these powerful causes. Yes, all of these are devastating and would leave many destroyed, but there are many ways to interpret heartbreak, loss and solitude...

Synopsis: Poets are able to capture and interpret the many painful moments of life and convert it into beautiful art work in their own way based on their feelings towards it

Poetry: 

• Alone by Maya Angelou
• One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
• If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
• When We Two Parted by George Gordon Byron     
• I Do Not Love Thee by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
• I Am by John Clare   
• He Would Not Stay For Me, And Who Can Wonder by A. E. Housman
• Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 
• Alone by Edgar Allan Poe