LuLu's Anthology

By Arturo Acosta

From the leaves of a taco tree

I give you crumbs of poetry…

 

LuLu's Anthology is a free verse phenomenon. Simple rhymes about complicated times; complex rhymes that scheme for a way out and words that scream from the depths of my soul. Tales from an outcast's downtrodden woes; defiant declarations of not wanting to fit in and a search for self-liberation. Narrations of hard working people and evidence of how hard life is being broke. One night stands that lead to wedding rings, little flings with human beings that should have angel wings, and all of the little things that make life so beautiful. Lonely cries of lonesomeness that finally get to be heard and documentations of parties filled with debauchery. Oh, the hypocrisy! These poems are just as human as you and I.

 

Now, imagine if Drake and Taylor Swift had a baby and that child started listening to 2pac and reading Emily Dickinson's poems; LuLu's Anthology is that child! These poems are sad lyrics with dope rhymes. Lyrics without music, for you already have the melody and rhythm inside of you. Songs for the head that aren't meant to be sang out loud, for the world is already loud enough. May these lines bring tranquility to your spirit, and I hope that when you read these lines you see my own spirit and hear it too; my spirit sings of life!

 

Also, and I'm sorry, but if you have a pompous British accent, please try and read this in your best American accent, for this is American poetry; A diary from a first generation immigrant—hear me roar! I'm just a kid from the Southwest trying to do my best. This is my sunset and I have nothing to hide. Pieces of my heart are scattered all throughout these pages, for I'm a lover. Heartbreaks are just part of the occupation and this is first hand documentation. I kiss a lot and say the f word occasionally, but I have not written disdainfully; these are my truths. I'm not sophisticated and these lines are alike, for I don't write for the pretentious—no, this is for everyday people trying to make it. These poems aren't for the critics, they are for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arturo Acosta
• Release date: Oct 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393365761

Arturo Acosta

Arturo was born in Mexico and raised in New Mexico. Albuquerque is where he resides and you can catch him on his bicycle bouncing from coffee shop to coffee shop where he writes expeditiously about love and everything that comes along with it. The lover from the Southwest likes to run around the Four Corner area and explore through it’s mountains and deserts, pizza shops and breweries, and will never say no to a party that he’s invited to. Caffeinated, buzzed, or sweating from green chile that is too hot; Arturo thoroughly enjoys life, people’s company, great food, and beautiful nature. Arturo has a crush on Emily Dickinson’s poetry, but most of his influence comes from listening to Hip-Hop artists: 2pac, Lil Wayne, Nas, Kendrick Lamar, Rapsody, and many more great lyricists. Arturo has not lived the life of a Rapper, and he knows it and this why he’s a poet. He’s worked in car shops turning wrenches, in offices pushing paper, construction sites building buildings, and in farms bailing hay; Arturo is just a hard worker. Arturo has spent time in bushes hiding from a lover’s significant other, lost amidst life’s struggles, alone with heartbreak, and has been together with love. Arturo has worn many hats, but writing has been constant throughout his life, that and being a lover. Hate has no place in the world and he’s a reminder of that; Arturo Acosta is a lover. Arturo stands for all people’s right to belong, peace for all, and justice for all. For he might not be an American citizen, but he only knows that of American values that were taught to him. As a DREAMer and a dreamer, Arturo believes that we can do better and is here to help. Arturo is an American writer, a freedom fighter, and a hopeful uniter. Arturo Acosta believes that we have a lot of work left to do and he will be there to see it through, and may that dream come true!

Book preview

Dedicated to the DREAMers and the dreamers that are waiting to wake up...wake up!

Taco Tree

From the leaves of a taco tree

I give you crumbs of poetry...

If the world was flat—it’s not—but if it was, it’d be a tortilla.

And everybody would have their own tortilla because to every hand there should be a tortilla.

And I’d hold up my own little tortilla and try to make my life a taco.

I’d try to capture life and then try to serve it as my motto.

I’d want my taco to contain as much of the world as it could

But it’s only a taco and life doesn’t fit as much as it should.

Outraged when you try fold it over and it doesn’t close, and you have let go of stories that will never get told.

In the end there will be more crumbs than what you can hold...

So I held out my tortilla up to the sky

I caught love, I caught ambition, I caught family, and I caught God.

But I forgot to fold it up and eat it, and I never got the chance to enjoy it.

And little by little the contents that I caught went bad;

Love turned to heartbreak and lust.

Ambition turned into addiction

And I found lonesomeness.

Belief turned into unanswered questions

And my life grew stale.

The stench of a failed life was pungent, but I was not dead yet...

I cut my arm off and that was me giving up my failures and giving into life with one blow.

I put it in the ground so that it would grow.

Hoping that from a bad seed a new a new tortilla would grow for me.

And up came a taco tree and with it came my life in its grasps for everyone to see.

This is thee, for you to see...this is my taco tree.

Full of Wonder

Welcome to my years of wonder.

A time where I did nothing but sit around and ponder.

Sitting alone with my back against a tree, I tried to figure my life out.

Anxiously pulled out stubborn grass as I tried to grasp what life is all about.

I was in love with life, but I didn’t know what to do with it.

I desperately tried on every hat, but none were a perfect fit.

That’s when I got lost through my bewilderment, but I made myself comfortable and I grabbed a pencil.

Life seemed detrimental, but writing then became essential.

I lived, I wrote, and I lived more and I wrote some more...

I started thinking more and it stopped me from living.

I realized that life is so unforgiving to those that are lost and it’s hard just existing.

I felt so out of place and I felt that I had to write about this experience.

Life started to make sense and I didn’t feel guilty for feeling curious; life and I became gregarious.

I started understanding people in a different way and I thought of all the souls that I’ve touched...

Oh, how they’ve touched me, and I had to write this as if it were a documentary, so that you can see how I see the world through joy and agony.

I started when I was twenty-three and I don’t how I’ll old I’ll be when I set these words free.

But one day you shall see how I view the world; overwhelmed with curiosity and drenched with fears.

Welcome to my wonder years...

The Land of Entrapment

The sun comes up over Watermelon Mountains.

Sunlight touches down on all of my surroundings.

The sun seems to shine down 370 days out of the 365.

Bright and full of energy; the sun gives us life.

We carry on with thick skin that carries hot blood.

We stay cool in our houses that are made out of mud.

And the river is full this year, prosperity is flooding the city, ain’t it Grande!

We are truly blessed with this beautiful land.

The aroma of the town is overtaken by the smell of roasting chile peppers.

It’s always Christmas here, for we are filled with gifts and treasures.

This is our home.

I grew roots with Piñon trees and as they blossomed, I grew wise.

But you grew up with the wish of goodbyes.

Home only reminded you that you were not in Manhattan.

Entrapment in the Land of Enchantment—how did this happen?

Did you not live the same life that I lived?

Did you not notice the love and care of the people we break bread with?

You want to be on top of skyscrapers amongst millions, all on your own.

Blinded by tall dreams and you can’t see that there is no place like home.

Cactus and juniper trees; You and me.

We rose up where nothing grows and grew abundantly.

Roots burrowed through abandoned soil and up with it came our deep-rooted values.

There’s something special here, can’t you hear love’s volumes?

Love ones are pleading you not to go—there you go!

You left and now home isn’t home anymore.

Home is all alone...

You look down from a balcony as you reminisce of home,

And I miss you even more as I drive down familiar roads.

The memory of you is haunting and it’s daunting to me that this is how life goes.

The sun rises and sets over a sandy hill and it reminds me of your hazel eyes above your freckled face.

Sunset and sunrises are no longer the most beautiful thing that grace our skies because it reminds me that you left this place.

I’m a disgrace for not telling you to stay and the only way I cope is by crying down in valley; I try to drown my sorrows down in the Rio Grande.

You are the most beautiful thing that was of this land.

I’m entrapped by the memory of your enchantment.

Home is no longer home if you’re absent!

There’s no place like you...

I couldn’t give you happiness and the thought of you being happy is something I treasure.

If you ever feel alone, always remember the love I have for you here, in the desert.

My First Home

A pale white trailer with a vibrant green trim.

Our little home may have seemed dim but living for us was never grim.

This thing had wheels and was on unstable land,

But we made a home out of that little aluminum can.

Our bedroom was in the same room as our kitchen.

My parents took care of me when they themselves were mere children.

Mama still a teenager and Papa just turned twenty.

We didn’t have much, but we never felt empty.

We were poor, but poverty didn’t bother us.

We had each other and so we always had enough.

We made it through tough times that were happier than they should have been.

We ate beans and potatoes every day and never complained about anything.

It was just the three of us; our little family.

Under that dented roof, we lived quite happily.

My upbringing should have been rough,

But it was softened by unconditional love.

Our family was united through our struggle and it empowered me to know that I didn’t have to go through life all alone.

In a busted, tiny trailer is where I learned the importance of a happy home.

Degenerate

Strangers through the night, for we were blinded by the light and we were left to run through the daylight in a fright.

Cowards accustomed to dancing with shadows through the night and when the time came to be right, the light showed us that we were not so bright.

Partying till sunrise, for life just isn’t enough; it does not suffice our needs, but we like to hide the greed in our eyes so that life doesn’t catch us by surprise.

Disguised through the lies, but we were discovered! We realized then, how close we were to meeting our demise—so close that there was no time for any one of us to sympathize.

We saw the price of all of our irresponsible bets that accumulated and now it was time pay those unsurmountable debts.

Waking up as the sunsets; we woke up too late and we were left to comply to life’s empty threats.

Senseless Senses

I can hardly see...

As soon as the smoke clears the dirt will follow and settle.

You’ll soon be able to see your reflection on that shiny metal.

Unless you’re blinded by the gleaming silver and diamond rings.

Gold watches and all of life’s shiny things.

The liveliness of things seems to fade.

Oversize sunglasses seem to help, as we adjust to its shade.

And we manage to get around, but then we hear the sound of our egos explode into a mushroom cloud.

The ruckus of being proud is more than allowed; go ahead and tear the city down; the streets must be loud.

I can hardly hear...

Silence is extinct!

I can’t even hear myself think.

I reach out to the world, but there’s nobody there.

Is anyone out there, for I need help—I’m scared!

I can no longer feel...

I’m sheltered by the battle’s rubble, I’m a prisoner to human ignorance, and ’m overshadowed by my own stupidity.

Knife in the heart, own hand on the handle; I’m dying of self-pity!

My empty screams echo in the city.

Shiny lights shine bright thanks to the power of dirty electricity, but no power lies to those that need an ounce of sympathy.

We could not see our own destruction.

We were not aware of self-corruption.

How could you live and not sense the death of me—I killed me!

R.I. P. to me!

Here I lie along with the rest of thee, who ignored the world when it asked us for mercy.

Alone W/u

So, what happened and where did it go?

The love you had for me seems to have faded away ages ago.

She looks down and says, Well I don’t know.

Our love grew in the harsh of the winter when nothing else was so,

But like so, it melted away with the snow.

And now, I’m so cold.

When I’m holding you it seems like you’re not really there.

Your kisses, baby, they just feel so distant, and so empty.

I can’t do it anymore—oh, no!

When I’m with you, I just feel so alone.

I tried to force love, remembering when we first met.

Trying to feel that way again, for I’m so tired of being down and upset.

The butterflies I once felt inside flew away and died.

The tears I once cried expired and dried.

I’m sick of holding in this frustration and I’m weak for trying to stay strong.

Seeing you in front of me and knowing that you’re gone.

I’m holding you and you’re not here.

Your kisses are empty.

I can’t do it anymore!

I won’t do this anymore.

I won’t kiss you no more!

I don’t want to feel depleted when I’m with you.

Because with you, I’m more alone than when I’m actually alone.

Please leave me alone, so I won’t have to feel so alone.

Harmonia

There are questions without answers

There are treatments, there are cancers

There is justice ran by crooks

There are ugly people with good looks

There is water that isn’t clean

There is a nightmare within a dream

There are police that are bad guys

There are bad guys that help and comply

There are thieves who give back

There are millionaires that’ve never done that

There are geniuses we’ve labeled to be dumb

There are feelings that’ve grown numb

There is love within our hate

There is luck and then there is fate

There are good people in this bad world

There are men who don’t like girls

There are women who are stronger than men

There are religions who teach sin

There are holy people that are empty

There are friends that are unfriendly

We can never be free, for there will always be

Balance through tension and resistance

It’s what makes life interesting through our existence

There will never be peace because we will always be human

Our beauty is in the pursuit of justice and the untangling of our confusion.

Life is balanced, as all things should be.

Life isn’t fair, but it could be.

Back to Life

Living amongst nothingness,

Craving to form shape of somethingness

Daunting to hear the echo of my heartbeat.

Ridiculing music as the drum of life is stuck on repeat

Resisting air to expel from me

For it’s the only thing I own; the one thing that’s truly free

I breathe again...and I’m back.

Back to nothing, back to emptiness, back to me being me.

Back to wanting my breath back.

The Blue in the American Flag

I listened with devoted silence,

I saw their suffering and I witnessed unjustified violence,

But I didn’t know what do.

I’m just a normal person, what am I to do...?

Then I saw the blue,

Behind the stars in the American flag.

Right then I knew that I, too, needed to stand.

We cannot stand back or stand by, we must stand up to this attack.

We’re coming together and we are staying intact.

Believing that through this fight, we can make world peace a fact.

More than a fantasy for our common love is not ambiguous.

It’s ambitious! And we will not drink from the bitter cup of the world’s hateful influence.

The ones that said it was okay. The ones that saw murder and looked the other away. The one that told people that were hurting to go away because you don’t matter anyway!

We will never again listen to rhetoric that only poisons our souls and tries to steal our minds.

We will break the binds!

Through love, we will fight hate and ignorance.

Because love demands that we make a difference.

We have not lost our innocence, but we have gained solidarity,

And now we see the struggle that our brothers and sisters go through with absolute clarity.

And we must fight this fight until it’s won.

The blue of the flag no longer hides behind the stars that divide us, for we are one.

The blue stands for perseverance and not neglect.

We must keep moving forward, but never shall we forget.

The blue stands for vigilance and not silence.

Together and only together can we stop this unjust violence.

The blue stands for justice and not for inequality.

Stop killing black people, is a cry for equality!

The blue stands for Black Lives Matter.

And we fill fight until justice strikes down its mighty hammer!

The blue in the flag is not just a uniform, but it’s in all of us.

We are the blue in the American flag, and we demand justice!

CSX

Crazy, stupid sex.

Let us give into this with excess.

Remember only of me and forget about the rest.

Fuck and then rest

...and repeat.

No breaks in between.

Together we are complete.

You’re the ocean and I’m a deep-water submarine.

I catch your sweet sweat from rolling off your face.

Your body worshipped and embraced.

Love in our hearts and lust in our eyes.

Keep ’em shut as we feed our heart lies.

Open your soul as you do your legs.

Crazy, stupid sex.

I’m addicted to this mess.

I omit love and add drugs.

I’m an addict; I can never get enough.

Counseling ain’t working;

Thick girls keep twerking.

I left therapy because of a nympho’s advice and we both indulged on our vice.

Risking it all and wanting to pay the full price.

All I can ever think about is getting in between.

A sickness plagued in my mind that has left me forever unclean.

Temporarily remedied as you passionately scream.

Oh, how I love to make you scream!

It feels so good to deliver you pleasure and make your legs quiver until you explode.

Say my name, bite my neck, and leave the bed soaked.

Anticipating the end, but I resist as you insist for me to persist, but I don’t want it to end; I don’t ever want it to be over.

I’m drunk of your loving and I don’t ever want to be sober.

But I’m voyager amidst an unavoidable storm that explodes with raw emotion; I rain onto her with pure passion.

Reaching the ultimate pleasure with the upmost satisfaction.

Giving into my truest weakness in excess...

I’m crazy!

I’m stupid!

And I love to have sex.

Timing Time

Timing is nothing;

She was everything.

I showed up too late, somebody already had her heart.