PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Josiah Martinez-Wade

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

12 poems·Since July 2018

I am a high school senior, and an aspiring singer, actor, and performer. I write poetry from my heart, and much of it is on the fly. When I really think, I impact. I want my material to make people think, give a solution, and bring critical issues in today's society and generation to the forefront and be dealt with in the times we live in. I believe we have a responsibility to give back to whatever community we identify within a constructive and progressive movement for better unity and productivity. I mainly write poetry about love, hope, suicide prevention, and different issues concerning the Millennial Generation. I'm here to be the change I wanna see in the world. **Disclaimer: Some of my poems do deal with homosexual feelings and relations. Although I do not identify as gay, I do not discriminate because you can't come from one side where stones are being thrown at it, and then come out of it just to join those throwing the stones. I write based on past experiences, inspiration, and truth. I completely respect anyone's opinion, as I would like you to. Thank you.**

← Back to Contents

Recognized

July 26, 2018

Your boy has talent
I see it in his eyes
That voice carries angels to the sky
I wouldn't lie
Pray God on high
Hear me when I say
He's gonna make it one day.

 

I couldn't take her for granted, I was confused but knew,
What she meant, what she said, rang silently true.
I was only seven, and I had just done my first cartwheel ever
But what I did more was better, cause I sang my heart out to the heavens
In our gray Suburban, in church, all through service.
They heard me over the speakers, I always tried to be louder,
And I finally was.

 

It was the second week of elementary, and I had been to choir twice
In the elective rotation, a revolution stirred within me
I didn't notice it, but she recognized.
Solo after solo, scales to melodies, I was passing my recorder class
With flying colors, and she recognized it.
It was contagious, the only other girl that had risen in her scope of vision
was Jennifer, but she recognized me.

 

She was tall. Strong. Old.
Her cheeks would glow pink under her chocolate skin,
Her smile as sweet as her soul.
The music was in her DNA,
Her long, nimble fingers easily skipped across the keys
She was here to stay, she would be there to guide my way.

She was always rich in her steps
Her vibes would sooth hard times,
She looked forward to the future, helped others along on her journey
She was there, and would always be.
As long as she could breathe.

 

And she stopped in 2016,
A heart attack took her
Never got to say Goodbye, to her
Found out at a Golden Corral a year later,
Which made it harder.
She was consistent, unchanging from seven years old
To twelve, and she at a place where she'll never get old
Recognized, and recognized by me.

 

Ms. Fayetta Allen,
I'm making it, pressing forward.
You told me never to let anyone make me quiet
I never will, I'm only louder.
I hope my voice carries to the sky,
I'm not lying,
Pray God on high listening,
Hear me when I say,
I'm gonna see you again someday.

0 snaps·4 views
View on Power Poetry →