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Free Verse English 10

Actualizado: 22 feb

Inspired by Langston Hughes from the Lost Generation, students from the English 10th Honor course wrote their free verse poems with sensibility in their minds and Puerto Rico in their hearts.

“Has Artistic Music Disappeared?”

by Iroel González

Has artistic music disappeared?

Has it disappeared

Like a raven in the night?

Has it corroded

Like iron at the beach?

Has it dissolved

Like salt in water?

It’s probably like still water

-It just stinks.

It might as well die.

“Puerto Rico”

by Álvaro Villafuerte

What is an idea rejected?

Does it mean the end of thinking?

Does it continue living as regret?

Will it be thought again

By future thinkers?

Maybe it will injure the thinkers

Like a deep wound that never heals,

Like a scar that never leaves.

Or is it neglected never to be seen again?

"Does it Matter What Comes After Death?"


Does it matter what comes after Death?

In life there is pain and anguish.

There is also love and happiness.

Live life as if it was the last day.

Life does not matter after death-

What is the point in hate?

If God exists or not?

Life after death is a different life.

Carpe Diem-

Live life to the fullest.

Why care about people who hurt you?

If in time you move on,

Life goes and you go.

Is life after death, life?

“The Beach”

By Sebastián Fournier

Am I floating?

Maybe I'm crazy, but am I floating?

I think so.

I see animals below me moving slowly.

I think that's a family -is it?

I love this.

I love watching this.

This blue liquid, holding me and making me float, makes me feel good.

Maybe it’s the blue color,

or the softness of it combined with the hot sun.

Maybe it's me.

In the meanwhile, I’ll continue floating.



In Mayagüez, where the sun kisses the sea,

and the rhythms of life dance exuberantly free,

There lies a tale of dreams untold,

in every street, every corner, and every fold.

What happens to the dreams in this coastal town,

where history's whispers softly drown?

Do they swell with the waves, buoyant and proud,

or do they falter, lost in the crowd?

"What Happens to a Dream Abandoned”

by Salvador Sosa

What happens to a dream abandoned?

Does it lie still like a green hill?

Or does it find new life

in someone else's consciousness?

Will it lose its purpose?

Or will it regain relevance?

Maybe it's just gone forever,

or maybe someone will find this abandoned vision and turn it into reality?

“San Juan, Fiestas San Sebastián”

by Francisco Baraga

Colored Streets, sun-kissed and warm;

Rocky streets, a happy vibe-

Dreams come true, then hide from sight.

Murals whisper Spanish stories-

Where faith and history belong.

Beautiful songs,

Feeling alive

Dancing your life,

Forgetting struggles-

Is it a dream?

Or is it true?

“A Life”

by Alan Smythe

What is a life wasted?

Like a dream, it's just forgotten,

No longer to be remembered.

Or like a victory cherished for long after

And used to reach a political or ideological goal.



What happens to a Forest at night?

The sun dipped low -its light grew thin.

Forest stretched, shadows drawn within.

Birdsong hushed, replaced by owl's soft hoot.

Day's vibrant light dimmed to moonlit gloom.



In Isabela, Puerto Rico, where the waves crash,

What happens to dreams that we stash?

Do they dry up like the sand under the sun's blaze,

Or like runners in a race?

In Isabela, where dreams dance and play,

Their future hangs in, day by day.


By Francisco Viejo

Escape or place to be until fate?

Temporary dream,

Or place to forever believe

Beauties that’ll make you never leave.

Time and art,

in medieval roads, you can feel.

No screen,

Just a pair of eyes

so the golden skies

you can see.

Can’t you see?

This place eternal

Like sacred belief

It is to me.


by Diego Ramos

What happens if you want to come back after they left?

It will hurt

Like salt water in your throat?

Or it will be cure−

Of lost resentments?

Does it is what they want?

Or it is my purpose as the descendent−

Like the royal line of succession?

Maybe it is the answer

Of whom is your true self.

Or is it the bondage that prevents you from knowing?

“Puerto Rico”

by Antolín Velasco

Why would we ever give up on us?

Why would we give up?

Without giving it a try.

Our island, precious beaches,

Precious mountains, precious people,

Precious culture, the smell on the beaches

-On the mountains, there is nothing like it.

Why would we give up making this island better,

Taking care of it,

Or do we leave it all to rot?


Francisco Gómez

What if humans bought mother nature?

Would they manipulate the Seas

like a playdough?

Or maybe control the animals

Like action figures?

Would they build the earth like Legos?

Or the Sky like a Puzzle?

Maybe they would break it

Like a 3 wheeled toy car

Or would they keep it in mint condition?

“La Parguera”


What whispers soft in La Parguera's Bay,

A dream unseen where starlight strays?

Does it fade dim, a hidden flame,

Lost in the tide, whispered in vain?

Or dance and pulse, a biolum glow,

A secret wish the deep winds know?

Does it sigh soft through mangrove's sigh,

A gentle breeze beneath the sky?

Or crash and boom, a wave's embrace,

Unleashing beauty in its space?

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