Petey Vez was born in Franklin La. in 1969. His life involved moving from city to city and country to country. Throughout his life he found that words have more power than most people understand. He saw how words affected the peasants of Guatemala, the villagers of Sardinia, and the laborers of West Texas. "Everyone one of us has the ability to make a difference, even if it is just the difference in someone's day" (Petey Vez at the Java House, Lubbock, TX 1994).
His poetry symbolizes the strength of the human condition. It represents an urgency that begs for social change at the feet of an apathetic society.
Keep checking in. This site will be updated weekly and I will be adding poetry by some really talented unpublished poets from Texas.
Submission Policy:
If you have original poetry that you would like to see on this page, please submit it. The inclusion of any piece of work will be at the sole discretion of this page's author. Send all submissions to Antoneg12345@cs.com. Include a bio of the author if you want to get proper recognition.
Hormonally you were driven to piss during it's not such a wonderful life. I drew blood because Lara's theme killed me.
all forgotten except the cuts that even they can't explain.
sharing that mandolin that was never tuned.
The bridge plate. The explanation of the snow in Moscow.
You don't even get the cosmic irony.
And how I loved you. and how I lost. and how there were never any mountains or revolutions or countries or you...
(2000)
Who Where You?
Some possess anger some drive emotion through the cityscape dark like melted lava.
I remember who you were before the violence that education inflicted.
Holding you was different then. But holding you was wrong.
(1999)
Hurricane
I came home tonight soaking wet. My hair matted to my head. My shoes tracked in the water. Sweet rain water that toppled boats and flooded homes.
I had watched the Hurricane grow. The radar screen showed swirling winds and clouds. This would be my first.
At times I felt as though my seat in the control room was invisible. The doppler and the computer would be my shelter. This is the dessert after all.
Hurricanes fascinate me. The dessert is so dry. The dessert seeks Hurricanes. I seek answers in the sweet rain water.
When the first rain drop fell I ran outside. I threw my head back and opened my mouth. My arms extended to heaven my heart started racing. I praised the rain. It tasted like sweet honey and amber ale. This is the dessert after all.
I pulled at my shirt and discarded it like an old useless rag. the wind chilled the air as God quenched my thirst and revitalized this dessert.
I am the dessert. She is the Hurricane. Neil Young blessed our union.
(2000)
A Lover's Whisper
Not for the sake of rolling the L off of my tongue.
A grandmother's wounds cause her to say water rolls like that L down a duck's back.
Children roll the L with a stick down streets without streetlights.
The Wounds are ours. To hold. Not down. Not down there where used emotions are bartered.
(2000)
Bananas for Sale
I heard a story about a whore who's tongue was pulled from her mouth. Sliced off. Shoved into her pussy because she laid down with a guerilla in Guatemala.
This story was meant to make me a man. A Bloody offspring of a self-proclaimed man.
I couldn't ask then "why didn't you do something?" I will now. Because I am a man. With no blood to my name. Yet at any moment I could choke on a banana.
and at any moment someone could ignore this poem.
(2000)
Raise your hands.
Night restlessness. Morning bitching about... crusified preppy ambitions.
Those who reject Maya's Mastadone don't get my selfishness. or the conviction that youth delivers so shamlesly upon the alter of essentially shamless rites of passage.
Yet we can't fish.
Yet we do bitch.
In a meadow I taught Julien to appreciate Frost. for the sake of compassion. for the sake of My long passed uncle
Art,
holds mexicans and indians in a struggle between the pope and the wheat. the wheat that was once. the wheat that begged its harvesters to become members of the Law that
Art, We forgive. because you fought. and their shoes kept out the frozen desperation of Law.
Defend mediocrity. not the word or the class that teaches it. They are wrong. How can a single man head the family that doesn't need to learn.
Angelou, praised the man that saw the mastadone rise to greatness in a afgan of cotton. the great one that educated us and we with simple fractions and prepositions.
It is not nor neither our cause. He will do it for us. She will do it for us.
We don't need to be taught. We don't need to learn how to fish.
(2000)
Legal Disclaimer: All of the poems on this page are here at the request of the authors. This page contains previously unpublished material only and does not in any way infringe upon copyright law.
