What does it take to get famous/

And no longer be nameless/

This attention is shameless/

These millionaires are brainless/

Wait… So tell me what your aim is?/

Thinking the same, but where are the changes?/

Business card exchanges/

The I’ll call you don’t call me stages/

Is it me or is this all outrageous/

Is it me or is this all done out of hatred/

Is it ego…

Maybe they should make it illegal…

To be that famous/

Are we turning pages?/

Or are we taking turns on social media pages/

Is it hard to be a star stuck in the matrix/

Can you tell me how it felt when you made it/

Nah…Maybe I just wanna stay home and never make it… Famous. 


I see the power of money

Is worth more than the power of love 

So deep under our conscious 

Decisions as good as a Pontious Pilates 

So what’s the real meaning of all this violence 

If it means forfeiting for your silence

How can a positive be a minus

The signs lived with the dead before us

Life taking it’s courses

And we have to give up a portion of it

I was asked by another unfortunate 

What it is to be a walking abortion?

Giving in to and giving out no choices

Where’s the power of the voices


Call me what ever it is you want! 

But I am where the noises live

I am the forgotten property

Flowers on concreted monstrosities

Blood and tears on those bottom leaves


Now that’s a problem probably 

And wonder what troubles bother me

I rather kick it like Socrates

Then kick it in soccer tees 

Sober and something that somberly

To validate and acknowledge me

I’m the problem see

I gotta be

An anomaly

Until this dollar hits the lottery

And it vaunts me 

Upper echelon and lost in my ways

With money comes grace

Fame of having spare change

And they just love you…

till your lost in your grave.   


It was reflections running past the light under street corners

That left one not moving in the night for the cops and coroners

As they arrived under dark skies like a procession of mourners

Outlining the lifeless body and tracing footsteps past lobby corridors

Asking for witnesses to speak up while pushing the crowd back with orders

Shortly after that the television stations came with their video recorders

But people went home already numb from the usual neighborhood disorder.


I dreamt of a place not so far in distance

Where colorful sodas and beer illuminated behind glass prisms

Chocolate bars, cigars, dice and playing cards lay far from vision

Behind the dusty price signs and short lines one could always listen

To the neighborhood stories and gossip without questioning intuition

Unlike the two dollars at hand and rough decisions for those children

Making sweet memories locked away forever in bodega prisons.


I saw tears shed like rain drops on city concrete

Thousands of voices and arms raised up promptly

No victory in death so they walked like living zombies

In hopes for peace just like Martin Luther and Ghandi

Protest screamed the people though sadly unheard probably.

Why make it anywhere… when you can make it everywhere!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Make It Anywhere.”

I write because I want my words to change the world. I want to make a difference in someones life who is thousands of miles away from me yet can be touched and inspired simply by reading my poetry. That to me would be making it anywhere and everywhere… besides I’m from New York, that feeling is already instilled in me and inspires me every single day.


There are so many times I sit back and think down this memory lane/

So many places I could be from but my reality could only ever explain/

Where I come from and where I will always be is my born and raised/

Where Bodegas and Liquor stores get as much love as the Church we praise/

Cold winter days were always hard to escape/

Especially from that East River breeze hitting your face/

Kids laughing playing games as parents called from fire escapes/

These Avenues if you didn’t know will forever be alphabetically engaged/

From Avenue D to the C moving up to the B… it obviously started at Avenue A/

The summer times were hot and everyone knew where to spend their days/

We looked at project buildings as structures of monumental grace/

Where even crime could not disparage the hard working people in place/

Flashback of Saturdays with softball games don’t seem so far away/

Girls in the neighborhood were beautiful and varied in all types of race/

We all had nicknames even the neighborhood we described in slick ways/

From calling it Alphabet City to the 6th Borough it was our love that just traced/

It on school notebooks or tenement walls and our testament to all that pride/

No matter where you would go you said it was all in you for all Three Sixty Five/

It’s a feelings not many can feel and I felt compelled and alive to describe/

It’s a feeling you would understand and if you don’t its ok it’ll be alright/

But there is nothing more beautiful in life to say than in my eyes/

But to proudly say that I am from the LOWER EAST SIDE.


Sitting in a diner… coffee done…so I waved for the bill/

I tip generously… although lost in ones… thoughts to build/

As I got up from the table I bumped into another and their drink spilled/

I offered… and bought her… another light and sweet…she say it’s no big deal/

My apology accepted… I make steps to the exit… Leaving behind that moment/

The weather outside has turned to the worst with snow and my bones are frozen/

I scattered in search of heat… wind behind my feet… as I flea for locations chosen/

Not mindful of my surroundings… walking within other hearts pounding…

I hear the complaints of life flowing on my way to where I am going/

Bus stops are crowded… traffic was re-routed… Lateness in the air undoubted/

I waited equally patient before I mounted a crosstown M14 Bus as it allowed it’s/

Passengers to get off and on almost as synchronized as expensive Swiss watches/

So now I’m sitting behind two ladies who are exchanging the latest gossip/

Across from me a few friends…maybe siblings…crying out loud for the other to stop it/

In the mix of all of this I missed my stop it’s going to be a few blocks I’m positive/

I spotted the obvious landmark…as the land darks…sunsetting as snowflakes drop/

The cities skyline used as a massive backdrop although contrasted stark/

I reach my destination finally thinking back to all that I just took part/

Another day in New York City…Known as the place where I rest my heart.