Hit me up for a copy or to answer any questions. from my father But now they hang around me like a black shroud, I have never felt whole, but rather a combination of contradictory characters who all answer to my name. Broken Wings Poems 1. join us for a full report at 6, but when they read Michael Rodriguez article, the father said thats a Puerto Rican hero?, as we reached the first 59 feet tall flag on, A sound system was set up on the back of a truck, Then there was poetry by the youth of the Batey Urbano, Judy, DVS, Pinky, Melissa, Mat, Janeida, Jay Jay and Xavi all read, We went to eat at the cultural center Juan Antonio Cortejer, We had every type of Puerto Rican food made. Broken and lost. Patience has always been a struggle for me. Raymond Martineau. Love is also a gift. #writtenbywill #willtowin #depressionquoutes #depressionposts #depressionpoems #relationshipstruggles #relationshipsbelike #toxicrelationships #toxicrelationship #imtired #tiredoftrying #tiredofthebullshit #tiredaf, WILL REYES - I've struggled to understand myself my whole life. They are my lullaby as they tuck me in and say goodnight. Lets take it back to the Treaty of Guadalupe, Being infected by small pox from blankets, Lets take it back to when women were worth, Cooking tortillas, greens just lay there, Lets Take it Back to the Good Old Days,, Let them grow to cover our pain and sorrow, Plant the seeds to unify the peoples of the Americas, Plant the seeds to grow a canopy of change, Plant the seeds to destroy imperialism and, Allow its branches of change to break through, The concrete and twist the steel and iron, so in its leaves we can hear the joyous voices of freedom, so in its flowers we can see the worlds beauty, So in its branches we can feel its reassuring strength, So in its trunk we can stand firm on whom we are, So in its roots we can remember the past we have forgotten, Before I even existed God selected that color for me, She was the first color that held me close, I would cry out if she left me to go to work, But rejoice when the older and wiser, but just as beautiful, Shining with memories of raising twelve boys and three girls, Now this brown woman was helping in raising me, Eggs frijoles and sometimes not so homemade Count Choculas, I was three when she started spitting up blood, Holding the bucket for her as she said, Ahi mijo, Ill be okay., I think that was the only English she knew, I cant really remember how much English she did speak, Yet I still cry at the thought of that memory, I am not sure how much longer it was before she died, I know shortly after that moment I never saw her again, At the time being three I did not understand death, As this young and beautiful color cried so many tears of sorrow, It drained the very happiness of her soul, It was not until a few days later when I realized, The older and wiser color was never coming back, I often sit and wonder how this older and wiser color, What she could have taught me, what we would laugh about, But like all strong colors they over time, Fade away and are nothing more than memories, It has taken me seventeen years to come to terms with this, And in school there was a whole new type of Morena. Hit the link in my bio or DM to get a signed copy! Became a doctor, a lawyer, president of a corporation, Started her own business, fought fires, opened minds, Became a poet, an artist, a congresswoman, a teacher, Poem for Puerto Rico National Hero Filiberto Ojeda Rios, he was commander of a Puerto Rican, national resistance organization Los Macheteros and was assassinated by the U.S government in 2005, bullets of lead and fire shot from guns of steel, those empty of space allow for light to peek through, in the presidential palace floors soaked and dripping, And the bullets that bloodied the streets and country side. #prayersup #prayers #poetrycommunity #poetryislove #poetrydaily #willtowin #writtenbywill #selfpublishing #memoir #memoirs #memoirwriting #poemsaboutlife, URGENCY - This poem is two pages and it's featured in my new memoir "Will To Win." Broken Wings A bird cannot fly with broken wings So much sadness those wings will bring Heal those broken wings birdie, then you'll fly Flapping those wings gracefully, heading for the sky~~~ 4 Lines - Broken Wings I'm running a new series of contests (until my points run out!) Tears sting my eyes. Was this the place that was in his dream? But it will bea part of you, instructor.You are white yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. One sister CeCe, three brothers, big Al, Steve and Gabriel, starting to see things I could not explain. I'm an author and mental health advocate.This poem is featured in my new memoir "Will To Win," available now as a paperback and e-book, via the link in my bio. But I will not be the Devil's slave. Hot and cold. Reminding me of my once known glory Follow. to this college on the hill above Harlem. Life is often quite difficult to understand, manage, decipher and steer, so it's no surprise we humans turn to higher powers. Long before four families to a one room studio apartment, Long before streets paved with gold with climates that are cold, Long before they are taking American jobs, Before Delores Huerta, Cesar Chaves, Rudy Lozano, Alejandro Molina, Emma, Before the Brown Berets, and the Chicano Movement, Before Si Se Puede before Chicano power, you need papers to get papers of course, Of course what I was thinking, I have no. I struggle with depression myself, and as a writer and (former) poet, I find myself drawn to poetry to find solace, to find comfort, to find solidarity, and to better understand my experiencesas well as the experiences of those who deal with depression in ways that dont mirror mine at all. My escape to freedom denied with a serpentine It was high! My delusions collapsing as reality unleashed a barrage of harsh but necessary lessons. I know you are asking I thought this was titled Mexicans Revenge? I don't own this time lapse, but I made sure it was free to use.I love this poem so much, it's from Will Reyes's "Lost in Life's Ocean" poetry collection. And my soul, now a deep black abyss It's called "I Am The Enemy" and it focuses on the fact that I've been in a barbaric battle against my worst self my whole life. And coughed, and in the end saw land. Broken Wing I feel like a bird with a broken wing Damaged by all the bad I've seen I want to fly away with you now and feel new things But I get frustrated I can't yet, so I let off steam Sometimes I feel trapped, up on a beam High above a crowded scene Reluctant to move, for fear I'll fall I know I can fly all the way yet, so I stall I make up Touch so soft and sweet. Who am I trying to be? For, God loves all who follows his Son Reprinted by permission of Harold Ober Associates Incorporated. But I guess I'm what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:hear you, hear mewe twoyou, me, talk on this page. For a child working on a puzzle, which feedback statements below are more likely to result in a growth mindset? The things of this world Keep an eye on your inbox. mist, the fibrous And before you can order it, you have to decide what you want. #determinacin #focusonyourself #imfocused #disciplineequalsfreedom #selfdiscipline #mentalhealthrecovery #mentalhealthadvocate #willtowin #depressionquoutes #accountable #accountabilitypartner #selfloveclub #selflovefirst #growthjourney, This product uses the Instagram API but is not endorsed or certified by Instagram. All stories are moderated before being published. The ants are in great pain I know where I come from, where I've been and where I'm going. I wrote this poem to describe just a fraction of that madness, with the hopes that others who struggle with these issues know they're not alone. Stain of man I had to accept responsibility for my own role in my life and finally start to hold myself accountable. All rights reserved. A Rolex watch and and a golden chain up to my room, sit down, and write this page: It's not easy to know what is true for you or me, at twenty-two, my age. Broken and lost. A strong facade disguising the misery. The only place that would make him beam? This piece is about the positive moments of clarity and progress. Broken Wing By: Will Reyes The Poem The Poem I feel like a bird with a broken wing Damaged by all the bad I've seen I want to fly away with you and feel new things But I get frustrated I can't yet, so I let off steam Sometimes I feel trapped, up on a beam High above a crowded more Prezi 11k followers More information Insurance man, he did not payHis insurance lapsed the other dayYet they got a satin boxfor his head to lay. Poems are the property of their respective owners. 2. I wonder if it's that simple?I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.I went to school there, then Durham, then hereto this college on the hill above Harlem.I am the only colored student in my class.The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem,through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevatorup to my room, sit down, and write this page: It's not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. Wings broken. Featured Shared Story All alone in the black abyss, tell me how it's led to this. stitched on and their heads pasted. Who was that little boy who sat in the back of the class? Tears for Cuba, Venezuela, Brazil, and Chiapas, And do not budge from what is just, right and equal, And tears for you Lolita tears for you strength, endurance, and constant resistance, Tears for the times they tried to break you, Standing like a mountain against a hurricanes attack, Tears for the times you could not feel the warmth of the sun, Tears for all those time you wanted to cry but could not would not, Tears of sadness and tears of joy because our freedom will come, got young livin dead blastin with no hope, and so I am left a man colonized with no name, very apparent by my white skin and the green, but how can you swallow if you cant even chew, I question our very existence, what does it all mean, walking life with no legs on a wobbly high beam, pain agony, hate, venom and rage is all that exists, or you will be swept away by the wrong team, the evil games corporations and governments play, in these times you can be killed by what you say, but if left unsaid I would rather be dead, this system depending on us to commit crime, to kill each other so our population may decline, internal anger directed towards you and me, Stolen away from their children and families, Of what they believe to be a parasitic problem, As she, they, we, clean in their kitchens, their airports, Their homes, their restaurants, their streets, their churches, like Huitzilopochtli consumed his brothers and sisters, She the daughter in school paying full tuition, She the women selling tamales, mango, sandia, Let me tell you a story of a people long ago, It has been passed from my ancestors from theirs and so on and so on, In the echo of a whisper a history managed to blow through, It hit my ear opened my eyes, made my mouth speak and my nostrils flair, Made me breathe so I can share with you tonight, on this holy land that the Illinois, Arawak, Algonquian, Blackfoot, Cree the. He wrote his first short story when he was nine and discovered his love for poetry in his twenties. They wipe my tears away and soothe my heart ache. How will this love end? Hosts Are the things that I crave Now I'm a proud author, live performer and poet putting in the work to make his dreams a reality. Yet so beautiful. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. Sabrina, Tears, Tears Go Away By I don't want a house But they were without wings To let the souls fly without any restriction, I wish I could change my skin according to the society, Than I'd be standing in front of my old reflection Hot and cold. Will we be destroyed in the end? Wings of wax will melt and fall apart, And my history to the anesthetist and my body to surgeons. "Will To Win" by Will Reyes is available now as an ebook ($9.99) and signed paperback ($35+$5 shipping) via the link in my bio. low-growling at the mailman. All of this, poems, nights making pastelles to raise funds, conversations, meetings, meetings and more meetings, tours, plays, visits, talks, years and years of toil, printed flyers, door to door canvassing, persuading, elected officials and people of prominent positions, all of this is the hard birth for freedom. I was born.. with a broken wing I wanted to show love to all the people fighting battles we can't see. Wrists scarred and bleeding. And let that page come out of youThen, it will be true. The rain drums down like red ants, Hit the link in my bio or DM me for yours. I often highlight my struggles because I had to endure them in silence for so long. They are my lullaby as they tuck me in and say goodnight. It's about life, our goals and the passage of time. I don't need a lot of stuff WE ARE(Lyrics and poems)composed and createdBy: REYESWe AreWe are the wretched of the Earth, We are spics, niggers, wetbacks, beaners and pork chops, Culture creators cut across communal skies, We are community builders stopping gentrification, Bastardly speaking forgotten in a new land and ancient land, We are Irish, German, Arab, Jewish, Muslim, We the Brown Berets and the Chicano movement, We are Venezuelan and the Bolivarian Revolution, We are Zocalo and Batey Urbano in Chicago. writtenbywill Today's audio poem is one of my favorites. It's a struggle I live with daily, but I continue to improve with therapy, exercise, productivity and honest self-reflection. But it wasCold in that water! If youre one of them or suspect someone you love may be, seek help from someone you trust. The pain is so unbearable to live with. Need to get back to brother Malcolm, Huey P., Dr. King, Cesar Chavez, Thought the battle was won cause we could drink from the same fountain, But thats far from the equality that I am shoutin, Im talkin the browning of the whole United States Nation, Im talkin bout takin my brother and putting him on a T.V. All because of huge burdens I hide until they overwhelm me. I focused so much on everyone else that I started leaving myself behind. A melody only meant for my ears, just those three words are my song. Lessons to be learned and wisdom, patience and strength to be acquired and shared. The poet writes away imaging, creating conditions, Writing the myth and all its wonderful exaggerations. 300 million people worldwide struggle with depression. on the sides of their necks.