Poetry
Beauty in the Mirror
By: Istana Castillo
It is of the saddest nights true beauty is reflected,
for when she feels most dejected,
and her eyes are free from modern infection.
Elegance glimmers back, a twinkle in her eye.
Without a smile, the camera witnesses a sigh.
Her defiled appearance deceives reality in frame.
The camera hasn't seen beauty or fame.
A hand glances chin, tears glide down cheeks.
Her sightliness will scatter by morning's peek,
to be reflected again when her days are bleak.
Trees 1 (Others)
By: Istana Castillo
I love all the family
Friends and everyone around me
But why do I want to see
Myself slammed into a tree
Trees 2 (Partner)
By: Istana Castillo
I found a flowering tree in a rocky field.
I climbed up its trunk, and I hung from a branch.
I was lifted away from the ground while the tree grew taller and produced fruit.
I imbibed in its bounty before winter came.
I saw the field begin to sprout with life in the spring.
I clung to the tree's branch and begged it to let me play in the field, but it refused.
I grew frustrated and angry being restricted to the branch, away from all the grass and flowers.
I cut at the branch to release me from its clutches.
I fell to the ground and felt relief being able to roam away.
I turned my back to the tree and felt free in the fields.
I played and pranced, but I looked back.
A new girl was in the tree, enjoying the next fruits.
I felt all the regret and jealousy rush into me.
I missed the fruit, and even the tree, but down here I am free.
Trees 3 (Autumn)
By: Istana Castillo
In the flowers
In the trees
I can finally breathe
Where there is no power
And no sprawl of towers
The world is really free
Nature calls
Leaves fall
It’s where I want to be
Clarity
By: Istana Castillo
In the flame of desire,
and on the funeral pyre,
truth really lies.
Ideals are congealed
and bonds are concealed
when pain ruins lives.
Intentions are exact
with how one must act
but take away the disguise.
Agriculture
By: Istana Castillo
I saw the sheeps and the cows
The horses and the sows
Bountiful harvests
In the rich gardens
High and low
All through the hills
Out past the landfill
Conversations
By: Istana Castillo
I called to the void
and the void called back.
The conversation lasted for hours
and I left fulfilled.
The next day I returned distraught,
for no one had answered my calls.
So I called to the voice
and the voice called back.
Alone in Society
By: Istana Castillo
Once covered in gloss,
& now for a cost
companionship is lost.
For your neighbor
No longer shares his labor
So when night falls
& the stars come out
I am alone.
Overgrowth
By: Istana Castillo
I feel lost.
I feel overgrown.
There is a cost to being alone.
I rot at home
To atone.
For it’s hard to live with my mistakes.
(What do I have left?)