I Am

I am...

I am a roller coaster of emotions right now...
I don't know why...
I am feeling a plarethra of feelings
And I fail to comprehend...

I can blame it on the weather... 
But it's the season I love...
I can blame it on my past...
But there are really no bad things there...
I can blame it on my parents...
But I do care for them so...

So what is tugging at my heart???
What is pulling my mind in a thousand dirrections??? 

As soon as I think I have something...
A thought process I can follow...
An emotion which is real...
A feeling that seems substantial... 
It drifts away...
It leaves me...

I try and think of beauty...
I try and truly see...
But it all is so fleeting... 

A word keeps appearing...
But it's an undecernable one...
As if staring at a fuzzy immage...

What is it???
A name???
An explination???
A meaningless word???

And just like that...
It dissapears...
Only to let me wander in the maze that is my brain...

Is it love??? 
Is it hurt???
Is it anger???
Is it passion???
Is it lies???
Is it truth???

As I continue to find my way...
To follow the nothingness...
To listen to emptiness...
To view the silence...
I leave you with this single question...
What is beauty???

-Marcos Cisneros

He Played

He grab his drums..
He played them the song that was in his heart...
He played them all night...
He broke in tears...
Yet not a sound was heard...
He played...

He Left

He left...
with a tear in his eye...
a sad song in his heart...
and her goodbye echoing in his ear...
He left...

-Marcos Cisneros

It is bright and sunny outside...
The birds are singing all is joy...
But inside his heart its dark...
stormy and gloomy...
its the story of many heartbreaks...
Sad...

A solitary old man...

A solitary old man...
Sitting on a park bench...
I am across from him
on my own bench...

I come out here to watch...
to watch and wonder...
I have never seen him before..

He has tired lookin eyes...
pale grey eyes...
His age is apparent on every crease...
on every spot and stubble on his face...
He seems to have tears in his eyes...
What is your story old man???
what is your story I want to shout...

I merely just look on...
is He waiting for someone???
is He missing someone???
He is just staring at the ground
as if remembering a name...
thinking a thought...
as if he is trying to roll back time...

Where would He go???
what would He do different???
He seems not to notice me...
not to notice anyone around...
the chill in the air bites him a bit...
He adjusts his scarf..
pulls his jacket closer...
rubs his hands together...
tries to bring warmth to his cooling body..

He starts to stand...
with pain he does so...
the years are weighing on him...
arthritis courses through his bones...
as he gets ready to leave...
he stares back at the bench...
as if waiting for a companion to stand..
as if wanting to see someone there...
as if wanting to address someone there...
but only finds empty space...

He looks for only a few seconds...
as He is getting ready to step away...
only one word escapes his lips...
only one name...
it seems to be ripped off his lips...
the name brings a sad joy to his face...
the name is Annabell...

-Marcos Cisneros