Odeliza Jacoba Poetry

I am what I am.

For those around me make me who I am?

I am what I am.

Does a tree whose fruit is bad mean that all its fruit is bad?

I am what I am.

Are all decisions that were made and are made mean who I am?

I am what I am.

Can I be this person?

Can I be that person?

I am who I am.

What if I did this, would it mean who I am?

I am what I am.

What if I thought that?

What if I thought this?

I am what I am, but that does not mean that I can never be who I am.

I am a flower my life is only so long soon I will die and leave room for other blossoms

God you are my sun, you bring the light I need and the dark for me to sleep,

God you are my soil with you I feel nourished

You bring the rain dear God, you help me to stay alive even though you know my life is very short

God. Thank you, with you, I am at your mercy

I am beautiful, my colors are bright, you formed me perfect in your eyes, I can not wait to join you in heaven as I say my last goodnight

My Creator; the sun, the earth, the rain, I am perfect in your eyes 

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House of cards that is how I feel, everything that I have done, said, felt, he blew it down just like a house of cards

It was nothing for him

He can hurt me so easily

He knows what hurts and he keeps at it until I cry

I don’t think I can every feel the same around him, comfortable to be my self whole hearted 

Okay to share all my secrets

How can he just sit there, watch me cry, pour my feelings out and not even care if I feel like death in side

Its okay

There is always tomorrow

But he should know that this pain inflicted onto me is really hard to erase

And that things will not be the same

I forgive

But I will not forget

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• Odeliza Jacoba Poetry

Good bye my hero

Good bye my distant friend

Your passing has ended a generation that will never come again

You are an icon, an inspiration, an example of peace

Good bye my idol the first person I ever looked up to

No matter what I will also remember and speak wonderful things about you

Music has lots its leader

Good bye my hero

Good bye my idol

You are the king, the icon of music, the inspiration of many

Good bye my distant friend

Clouds of black umbrellas, jackets of black and shirts of gray

Women with scorn on their faces wrinkled and torn, makeup-less

Black and gray gray and black

I am orange  see me hate me want to be me

I am green you are envy

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I don’t know if I should dream anymore

Is it too late for someone like me to dream, to hope, to aspire at something?

I keep my thoughts in the back of my head too embarrassed to share with anyone I know

I keep my dreams to myself locked up in a box and threw away the only key

Is it okay to dream? Is it too late for me?

I wish I knew what dream I even want to dream too scared to even think of one, I was never this way, but some how things in life along the way made me think that not everything is possible anymore

I refuse to stay this way, maybe its just caution of age or maybe its just seeing things in a cloudy way

I have no idea

I keep my dreams locked up in a box at least the ones I allow myself to have maybe one day it would not be so bad maybe one day I’d break that stupid box and just let go, be free, allow myself to dream

Get your daily dose of Odeliza Jacoba

www.odeliza.com “My life in South America”

www.odelizajacoba.com “My official Model Site”

www.odefusion.com “My Recipes”

http://odelizajacoba.blogspot.com“My personal blog”

http://odeliza-jacoba.blogspot.com“My Expat blog”

http://odelizajacoba.wordpress.com “My Poetry’s”

http://odelizajacobatravel.wordpress.com “Just All about My Travels around the World” 

Every Hatter needs a friend

Someone that they could share all their hate with

Someone who is easily manipulated, maneuvered, man handled

Usually this person can’t stand to be on their own

Usually this person can’t speak up but has to be spoken down to

This person is called a Wing Man

I had a friend, at least I thought she was my friend

I’d tell her all my secrets and share with her all my thoughts

Often times, back then of course, I wondered how everyone knew or rather thought they knew all about me

You see the wingman  told the hater everything I said and then the hater would extrapulate what she wanted and then boom! The rumor gossip mill would take off

So now, as soon as I identify the wingman I keep my private thoughts, plans, ideas, every thing to myself

I only tell the wingman what I wouldn’t mind hearning, by someone else.

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http://odeliza-jacoba.blogspot.com“My Expat blog”

http://odelizajacoba.wordpress.com “My Poetry’s”

http://odelizajacobatravel.wordpress.com “Just All about My Travels around the World”

Mother, my Mother, please don’t leave me,

it’s not time for you to go yet. We need time together,

to go out to dinner, to lunch to everything.

Mother, my Mother, please don’t leave me,

I already know my life will be empty without you in it.

I don’t want to think about it! I refuse to! Mother, my Mother, its not time for you to go.

You’ve got to meet your grandchildren and I have not had them it, so you must stay. For them, whoever they maybe, I know they’ll adore you, Mother, my Mother.

I’m scared. I don’t want to tell you. I want you think that I am okay that when we talk on the phone my voice sounds strong. I have not cried until now.

Mother, my mother, your soul is beautiful, you are kind and compassionate even when others are not.

Mother, my mother, I love you

Most of the time there is always haters in a group

Maybe one or two or even three

When I was younger I use to cry and hide from haters

When I was younger I use to wonder what I did to make them hate me so much

When I was younger I would not go to parties, events, socials, or any of the like, as much as I really wanted to, I just could not stand the negative vibes

As I reached my teens and early twenties I started to make fights with haters so much so I became a hater of haters

I’d cause drama and think that in doing so, I’d give the hater back all its hate

This continued until my mid to late twenties

I’d avoid social gatherings because a hater would be there

I’d be so defensive that those that knew me wondered what the big deal was

Then I realized just from one thought of a day that there was nothing wrong with me and maybe nothing wrong with all those hates

I approached hate with compassion

If a hater hated me then I’d think that this person has a misconception about me

If a hater hated the way I looked then I’d think that maybe it could be they wanted something they believe they should have as well

If a hater assumed about me, I’d assume that maybe in their past something happened that woud make them closed to recieving anybody

Maybe a hater is sad, insecure, or is troubled some how and they see me and think ‘why her,what does she have that I can not?’

So I go out, spend time with friends and stay clear of foe, but when I see a foe I treat them with more compassion, they are not my friend, but maybe one day they could get over the hate and be comfortable with their selves

And Maybe be my friend

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