Tag Archives: english

To The Once Brave – A Poem

IMG_1078Death is but an impression of life.
Their actions will follow you in time.
Lives affecting yours, ended or not.

Think, and they will have been restored.
Feel, and they will have been reborn.
Fight, and our hearts will cease to mourn.

Look to your left, move to your right.
Death may only feel like death;
When they should stand tall at your side.

Isaac Olajos

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We are All Soldiers – A Poem

IMG_1339Hear the heart beat drums of war.
Notes to end,
Our lives too poor.

Head the heavy masts ahead.
Stab the sunrise,
Less be dead.

Litter the lines with more than men.
Hold your breath,
Don’t count to ten.

Sail the stars as fears take flight.
There will be none,
no lovers tonight.

Seed our sorrows in ruins of some.
Their hearts are gone,
The war is won.

Isaac Olajos

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The Writers Mantra – A Creation of My Own

DSCF6432There is a mantra that I thought up years ago when I first became interested in writing. It is short, simple, and true to anyone who finds power in words. I encourage you to share/reblog this to see if it is true to all writers, for my reach as a blogger is very slim at this point in time. I hope you find meaning in it, among other things I write:

Give Me a Picture,
And I will give you a thousand words.
Give me a Word,
And I will recreate the World in its likeness.

-Isaac Olajos

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The Fall – A Poem

IMG_1535There is a cliff somewhere.
One which we must all plunge from.
It’s height varies in time,
It’s slopes rise and fall with our hearts.

When we leave its edge,
We may not cease to exist.
For the fall does not finish us,
Yet, the jump decides our fate.

Each man must disappear into the blackness,
Fight his instincts,
Fear his existence.
Find himself before his momentum halts.

Can we rise against the swell of our thought?
Lift the weight of worry from our shoulders?
Comfort our fluttering hearts?
Heat the frigid wasteland that captures our skin?

As you stumble through the woods, to come upon your cliff,
Hear the trees crack as their spines stretch to the stars.
Do not peer over the edge,
For life ceases to mean, as the end is seen.

Isaac Olajos

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Describing Emotion – Love

IMG_2756Love is blurry;

Yet it feels so clear.
We may dream, yet never achieve.
For its limits are endless.

The truest form is the point we cease to seek.
Accepting that our quest will continue no more,
Set our sorrows in the dirt, long before the path to end.

But you can always go further,
Feel stronger,
Care more,
Hurt less.

Love is our morphine.
It is our vice.
Our habit.

An escape from the reality so harshly thrust upon us.
An ideal life we can only but dream to live.
Love is a thought from the hearts of humans,
Yet we cannot reach it.

Love is our reason to begin,
And our means to an end.

For it is a world we do not know,
A creation we cannot create,
A fable we cannot forget.

Love is not ours to keep.

Isaac Olajos

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The Lost Lands – A Poem

DSCF6139

Lay your castles in the sand,
Long before the road at hand.
Set your troops upon a cheer,
Watch as women, children leer.

Give your army, weapons old.
Frightful in their hand they hold.
Fill your cup with rancid wine,
Watch them drink till none can dine.

Castle cradled in your hand,
Hopes for bounty, another land.
Priceless penny, fountains gold,
Watch your lovers’ hearts grow cold.

Drunken general, loyal and sold,
Troops lack spirit, battle bold.
Crater sitting in the sand,
A place where once your castle’d stand.

Isaac Olajos

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For Another Year – A Poem

Thoughts of many,IMG_2968
Thoughts of few.
Dream of future,
Dream come true.

Chasing ghosts
To come too soon.
Chasing dreams,
To lose a few.

Evade the ghosts,
Evade the new.
Find a future,
Found for you.

Search a place,
Not alone.
Search for space,
Call my home.

Isaac Olajos

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Conversations With My Sister – A Short Laugh

IMG_00000440My sister says some pretty entertaining things. As much as I love her, I thought I would share a few at her expense, and at your gain. I have no idea if you will find the scenarios I listed here amusing, or if its humour is a result of my connection with my family, yet I hope you are entertained.

Think of these in a Jennamarbles voice:

1- Chicken Wings.

Scenario: We are at a local restaurant. The female waitress comes up to us, about to take our order.

ME: I’ll get the souvlaki please.
WAITRESS: Ok, and for you? (looking at my sister, pen at the ready)
AKAYLA: (Sets her posture, begins to speak in a polite, proper tone) I’ll have the one ib of wings please! (pronounced ib. Literally.)
WAITRESS: Excuse me? (stifles a laugh)
AKAYLA: (In the same tone) One ib, it says right here!
ME: Akayla, thats L. B. It’s not an ib, it’s the symbol for pound.
AKAYLA: OHHH. Yeah ill have that.

2 – The Creature.

Scenario: I’m driving my sister back to our house at 1am. We live out in the middle of the woods, so there are few houses between our destinations. We see something on the road ahead of us.

AKAYLA: OHHH WHATS THAT! (pointing to a furry creature in the high beams)
ME: It’s a groundhog.
AKAYLA: No no its not.
ME: Akayla, it’s a groundhog.
AKAYLA: OH MY GOD.
ME: What?
AKAYLA: (Enthusiastic and pressed to the window) It must be, like, like, OMG A MiniBEAR.
ME: I don’t think thats real.
AKAYLA: YES. It definitely is. Pull over! Let me take a picture! Ohhh it’s running away.
ME: No, It’s a groundhog.
(It was a groundhog)

3 – Hot Sauce.

Scenario: We are discussing halloween costumes. She pulls out a picture on her phone and begins to explain to me what she’s going to be.

AKAYLA: I’m going to be hot sauce. Isn’t that great?
ME: Oh yeah? What does the costume look like?
AKAYLA: (shows me a picture on her phone) This is it. I ordered the T-shirt.
ME: Oh thats cool, where are you getting the Sriracha (Pronounced ser-ratch-ah. You know the company.) t-shirt?
AKAYLA: (pauses for a moment to think) Who is that?
ME: What?
AKAYLA: Who is that? I don’t know who Sir Ratcha is? I’ll look him up.
ME: (Laughing at a loss for words.)

I love my family.

Happy arting,

Isaac Olajos

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Restless – A Poem

Dressed in dreams,IMG_2505
We do not sleep.
Our minds are lost,
Not ours to keep.

Stars are strangers,
Taught to weep.
Our future lost,
Twas ours too steep?

Friends or follies,
At a low.
A frugal bounty,
A heart to stow.

Friends or follies,
A common foe.
The fickle bounty,
We won’t let go.

Isaac Olajos

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Fletching – A Short Narrarative

IMG_00000401It is your child.
Cradled about your fingers, gently.
You control it,
Shape it,
Riddle it with great expectations.

Then it slips;
From your grasp, into the world it flies.
You hope it will land on its mark,
That you have found it’s strength.
That you have prepared it for the winds it may encounter.

It must find flesh,
It must find meaning.
You must have a legacy.

Isaac Olajos

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