... a man Forrester Ortiz
He used to cut down trees
But the tree breaks
He made a mistake
He didn't appease the light breeze
7/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
L-et
Y-our
K-indness
A-llow
O-ccasional
R-egards
T-o
I-mplement
Z-est
Topic: Birthday of Lyka Ortiz (February 26)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Love Unfamiliar
How do you know when a man really feels love for you?
When you have never experienced love or intimacy.
All that she knows is physical touch and sexual play to relay how she feels what she truly sees.
I do know this! I don't want to lose him or make him think that sex is all that I want or know how to do.
So how do I deal and accept all these Unfamiliar feelings?
How do we move forward so that I dont lose you?
Can you be patient with the way that I feel and accept me and love me for who I am?
Or am I destined to be alone and is this conflict too much for any man.
Love Unfamiliar I want to experience and to be loved I just need to be shown guidance and to truly accept how I feel.
I need to understand that the things that I'm feeling that YES I am deserving and that YES it is real.
It will take the Patience of a very loving soul.
To break down my walls and keep my heart.
Tell me are you really ready to give me your all?
Can you truly play this part?
Love Unfamiliar
Written by: Bambi Ortiz
See Me
See me for who I am and not for what I do.
See me for the beautiful soul that I am.
I was once a good girl like you.
See me and don't pretend that you don't as you look the other way.
Its easier for you to pretend I don't exist than to face the reality that is sadly at play.
I don't want to do the things I do but this is the only life I've been taught and know.
So please don't cast the first stone at me unless your as pure an innocent as the winter snow.
See me and stop to pray for me or to lend out a hug in need.
For when you do I remember the love and the day you planted that seed.
Survival Sex is how I live and until I can get to a point where I want to love Me.
Don't be afraid to offer your help and open your heart to SEE ME!!!!!
Written By: Bambi Ortiz
Misconception
Your misconception of who I Am
Your misconception of what I Do
Shows you know me not at all-
I was once a good girl like you.
I didn't sit around as a child and contemplate that I would become a prostitute one day.
Although my memories are kind of hazy I have a select few of childhood play.
All you see when you look at me is disdain, disgust or hate.
You only see me for turning tricks.
A bottom feeder looking for the best rate.
I want you to see me as a human who feels pain and pleasure and who bleeds the same as you.
I want you to look at me as a person.
And not for what I DO.
Unless you've lived a day in my life-
Could you possibly understand?
What it's like that in order for you to eat that you will have to sleep with a random man.
Your misconception of Who I Am
Your misconception of what I DO.
Shows you know me not at all.
I was once a good girl like you.
Written by: Bambi Ortiz
L-ove is the greatest,
L-ife without it is inept,
O-pen your own heart.
Topic: Birthday of Lyka Ling Ortiz (February 26)
Form: Haikustic
Rosie Ortiz
1916-1936
The stars are my friends.
They know of my many secrets.
They remember my private musings.
The stars cried tears for me.
They placed fragrant roses upon my bosom.
I sought to comfort them in their grief.
I tried to hold them close in my embraces.
Nightly now, I see them in my gazes.
Midnight now, I hear their muted whimperings.
What can I say to them?
What words of sweet solace can I give?
A single blade of sweet grass understands.
A solitary leaf of autumn knowingly descends;
There is no darkness in death;
There is only love,
And light eternal.
the M-V-P
two-thousand-sixteen
Ortiz don't you agree?
I may not like it
the designated hitter
Ortiz is the best
two-thousand-four
losers no more
Boston Red Sox
out of the rocks
contenders again
beginning to win
three word series wins
no more Babe Ruth sins
now Ortiz calling it quits
won't send the Sox to the pits
for they're stronger than strong
without doing a wrong
Whisper, 2012
V. Ortiz Vazquez
Bright as the day
His confidence
Walking tall for his batch bears no wrong doing
Predetermined sex
Downloaded expectations
“Boys don’t cry”
Sprung from love
Her sensitivity
Watching those around
Her mark reveals a list of don’t
Whishes of a boy tramples downloaded expectations
Recalculating
“Girls don’t do that”
Walking about
Unknown to one another
Distance companions with similar nature
One believable, the other one not
Society’s rules
Predetermine disposition
Learning behavior
Up for debate
Slowly he begins to make his move
Trust ensue no rejection
Without suspecting
She bare her mark
Not knowing what, how to feel
Act
Silence descends upon the body
Laughable his story, he thought “boys don’t cry”
Miserable her short life, she “asked for it”
Compose, controlled with confident
Satisfied with the cruel intentions
In conjunction with low, clear voice whisper
“Shhhhhh…”
Love Poem, 2011
V. Ortiz Vazquez
I am no slam poetry poet
No love story reside within my pencil
Strawberries, tossed salad has no residency
Smooth skin, deep breath, loud moans
Non existent
Bleeding pen draws away
The thought, idea of love making through ink
Passion flow with no identifiable destination
Taking not borrowing, lines begin to form spectacles of no love
My pen-pencil, tools entrusted to absentees’ pictographs
Images of lost, missed, forgotten times
Tried by many
Explore by few
Spit by few too many
Hardship with frown for a smile
I am no slam poetry poet
No love story lies within my pages
Notion of impossible curves
Sweet nectar, delicious lips
Absent
Day dreams resettle night dreams
Suddenly awaken rushing to fall asleep once again
Return to…where did it go?
Relax muscles
Swollen vessels
Dimmit!! No longer asleep
I am no slam poetry poet
No love poem here
No
Love
Poem
Here
Death be Justice, 2011
Vickie M. Ortiz Vazquez
Stranger you are
Known to me through a split second
Glimpse of your criminal action
Story told by the Whiteman
Hundreds shout your name
Hundreds place faith upon the “great nation”
Hundreds failed to notice your color
Gender
Guilty not by your true actions
Guilty in the name of your color
Gender
Stranger you are
Known to me through a split second
Yet, not a stranger
A story recycle, previously heard
Watched by few yet many
Drained voices, songs of desperation
Faulty process disguise as justice
Louder the lies told
Lady of Justice refuses to listen
Set up by Public Attorneys; poor people’s guilty brand
Murder actions supported, celebrated, acknowledge in the name of Red, White and Blue
Legal; neither immoral nor unethical
Death be justice in the hand of Lady Justice
Girl Interrupted, 2011
V. Ortiz Vazquez
Minding her own she cruises along
Unaware the cards dealt to her
Pay no attention to life’s brutalities
She walks
Halted, a touch
A peek
Nearly stolen lays the “damaged”
Misunderstood by those around her
She, herself cannot comprehend thyself
Struggles within, out
She walks
Halted, a touch
A peek
References of wrong doing, laziness
Swift away in night
One last breath gone by daylight
Lingering thoughts of “I wish I would have done more”
She walks
Halted, no more
Modern Slavery, 2011
V. Ortiz Vazquez
Ivory black covered in crimson blood
Rhythm of fears hides his God like stand
Scared by his image, he castrates the family violating the house jewel
Jewels
Dreams of home a man’s song
Lyrics of hope cascades with every opportunity
Betrayed by those of his suit
Eyes shut, eyes open
Glimpse of a new life
Or so was the hope
Shackles gone or so it seems
Weight lifted or so it feels
Dragging
Caught in the web
Familiar, chameleon the perpetrator
Multicolor no longer neutral, white
Greed’s trap, your dreams
Twenty first century, invisible yet here
Weighted by my afro hair, big lips, brown skin, accent, womanhood
No lyrics of hope
Silently I write
Few safe ears listen, no questions
Wealth not within my reach
Distance, hazy, foggy “anhelos”
To break through
Struck down not once but twice by your greed
Or, my greed?!
Label me a woman, Latina, Spanish speaker, lesbian, sinner, working class
Shackled by your God like demeanor
Puppeteer is you
Puppet is I and those alike
Wearing the mark
Working class
Living for “migajas”
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