Love Part One: Rare Rose Gold

Let me just say that I’m no art major nor do I have the knowledge of real art enthusiasts. I’m sorry to offend!

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I’ll be straight forward
There is a girl I’ve come to admire
Her looks, wit, and words
Have me purely inspired
I’ll be honest and say
That she has me falling

And for the sake of this poem
Her name will be LemoN
As life suddenly decided
To throw her into my direction

“Make something of this” said Life

Disregarding the cliché of making lemonade
I listened to the words of Atmosphere
Who once said of lemons to
“Paint that shit gold.”

And I shit you not
I have sat in my room
With a paintbrush and canvas
Painting away the perfect
Piece of art that I could make
In hopes that one of these days
I’ll give it to LemoN
And she’ll be astounded
She’ll see how pretty she truly is
And how she could make the Milky Way stop
Dead in its orbital tracks

But I can’t perfect said art piece
For I’m as much as a painter
As Nikola Tesla was an Iron Chef

Not really

I refused to give up there
Because as a poet
I’ve been given the job
To paint pictures with words
That would incept your mind
Of the beauty that I see

So picture this

Single Asian female
Addicted to Target’s sales
She’s not too short
Nor too tall
She holds her own at dinner
Yet she stays slender bodied
And never going any skinnier

If I were to paint her with Choe’s finesse
She’d be in a blue dress
That would electrify the oil based city
Sending shocks of beauty
That makes me weak in the knees
Because she’s just absolutely stunning

If I were paint her with Audrey’s skill
She would be plain faced only
To show her beauty is also au natural
Clean, simple, and perfect all around
Because when you look at her
Sometimes all you can say is just
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”

And if I were to paint
With Da Vinci’s perfection
LemoN would be Mona Lisa
Her smile painted enigmatically
The beauty of not only her face
But her hands, neck and breast would
Light up the very canvas
In a way that announces her presence

And lastly her eyes
Her gaze upon me
An observer of “beauty”
Capturing her very sincere essence
I paint these eyes perfectly
No outlines or other artsy gimmick

Because if eyes are
Truly windows to the soul
Then you’d see why she inspires me
For her eyes are tinted a rare rose gold

Three Parts Love Prequel

To say love is overrated
Should be a phrase to be cremated
Heart broken in one place
Only to fuck some other face

Love isn’t what makes you jaded
It’s just you
Who thinks love must be hated
But don’t fret as love for you will soon be true

Love doesn’t embody one being
I mean it can and it will
But understand you must be willing
To look in others heart for yours they’ll fill

For there are three parts to love

The person you desire to hold
May be a tough find but it takes time
To refine “Rare Rose Gold”

The unforgettable faces
Who will never leave your side 
At “Your Home Base”

And soar high above
For we each represent 
A “Younique One Love”

HOMEBASE

The below excerpts are taken from Shihan’s “Fathers Day” poem.

”’Daddy do you still love me?’ 
I thought I’d die when she asked me that
My heart felt like
I ain’t got a metaphor for that
It just hurts.”

The poem Shihan writes to the audience about the question his daughter asks him hits home. Not in the sense that I have a child of my own but in the sense of how I feel with my friends and family.

“So I try and keep composure
And explain to her everything
That she needs to hear
To let her know that
Her daddy will always be here
And tears form under my eyelashes
Pregnant with guilt…”

Sometimes I feel as though my friends have asked questions of if I still loved them or if we’re still friends. Questions like those hurts my heart. Even just the feeling or the possibility of that question being brought up scares me.

I got a new poem for you guys coming up soon and it’s going to be one I will push to spread the love. 

“And later I break down in areas of my house I keep my secrets in”

#HOMEBASE

The Fortress

Dedicate to a great deal of inspiration to me, Tiffany Huynh.

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The story goes
The princess is atop a tower waiting to be saved
Surrounded by the scent of brimstone
And scorching blue electric flames

Guarded by a dragon
And that’s the irony
Because the dragon is protecting her
Warding off these fake ass so-called “warriors”
Who think they are going to save her
Because let’s be honest
He could end her
With just a burp of his flames
But he doesn’t
He won’t
As he too wishes for this princess
To be saved
To find love
To help her find a man worthy
For the flames
To be contained

She isn’t scared of the fire
She’s not afraid of the dragon
Who protects her
As she hid herself away
Behind these castle walls
Looking from above in her tower
Waiting for her Knight
Not in shining armor
As she knows a true warrior’s armor
Should never be shining
As it meant he never
Went through any fighting
For anything
Because damaged chest plates and gauntlets
Are filled with stories of battle and struggle
That contains the tale
Of his pilgrimage to reach her

So until then
Punk Hazard is where
She will stay
As she knows she’ll be saved
She’s just waiting for the day
She can leave the fortress
Behind someday

Faced Down

Hands down
I just basically feel as though
I’ve let everyone around me down
Should I feel this way?
Most likely not
But inside my heart there’s a knot
And I can’t seem to
Set it free
As there is too much
Bothering me

Hands down
Face down
Why has everything
Turned upside down

One Peace

In all of December I had been feeling inspired by the people around and the events that had been occurring in my life. I noticed that my friends and family are incredibly talented that range from singers, musicians, models, poets, writers, artists,producers, web designers, fashion experts, photographers, directors, and so on. 

People inspire me. They inspire the journey in my life and I have gained a knack for writing some pretty decent poetry so I got to thinking, why not put myself out there like so many of my friends and family have before me?

I decided one sleepless night after the other watching videos of my favorite poets that I would continue up the ante of my passion of poetry, spoken word and performing in front of an audience. But then I thought, that just my actual name wasn’t catchy enough. I have this whole thing about the correlations of unique names and famous/well-known people but I’ll save that for a poem in the future.

So what was I doing to do? Would I just stick with my name or create one? If I create one, what name would best represent me and why? I thought about a name for myself all month long but nothing felt right. Until I threw a little party with my previously mentioned amazing friends Sunday night. 

One Piece.

Drawing upon the inspiration of one of my favorite series and the joy of inspiring those around me, I came up with the name One Peace. By continuing to write and perform in front of people, I only wish that one of my pieces will find it’s way to you and spark something you as poetry did for me.

I have lots of things planned for this upcoming year and I can’t wait to show you all.

https://www.facebook.com/ONExPEACE

Much love, one love.

-One Peace

Be My Poetry?

Excuse me here but
Pardon me for being a little rude
I was just thinking that maybe
And hopefully you’ll find this just a bit amusing
As it’s been several years
Since I’ve approached a girl in such a way
So, please, bear with me
And try your best not to laugh
At least not right away

Girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl, ya lookin so fione

And I want to ask you
If you could
Be my poetry?

And I know this sounds mad corny
But allow me to explain
As there is something about you
That has instilled this fire in me
You’re the person that inspires me

I want to write you perfectly
Making sure I don’t skip a line
And write my cursive’s neatly
Because the curves of your mind
Has got me straightened up
And cleaned up my ghetto act
Very nice and neatly

I want to place the commas
In the right places
To know that it’s okay to

Stop,
And just
Take things slow

Because the thing about periods
Is that they stop things very often
And they indicate an ending
But with you
I don’t want an ending
I want to keep the stanzas coming

I’m hoping you will be my poetry
For you have this beautiful form
That expresses true beauty
On paper, TV, movies and
Now that a brother really thinks about it
Just about everything

And right now you’re looking at me
Like “Boy, are you crazy?!”
Though isn’t that kind of the point
Of falling in love?

I mean I’m asking you to be my poetry
As I’ve created this ridiculous
Metaphor in hopes you’d be a bit fond of me
Fond enough to even hold hands with me
As love gets you to do some pretty crazy things
Especially write corny high school love poetry

I don’t know what it is but
There is something about you
That has instilled this writer in me
The spoken word artist
That’s not afraid to jump
On the mic willingly like this
As you have ignited a fire in me
You inspire me
You inspire the person
In which I aspire to be

Yours

So to be completely original
Here is my own little sweet way
Of asking you to be mine

How about it?

Will you be my poetry?