Peace We Pursue

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Follow the pathway through the trees
In between the raucous crowds
And over walls erected in militaristic prowess
You will find the voice of truth
Underneath the bed covers of youthful lovers
On top of the roof where the widow sings
Down in the valley of what once her domain
Sounded the call of truth
I remember the day we said I do
But that day is now bittersweet memory
In the crevice of a heart long torn apart
You can find the voice of truth
It neither hates, nor relishes
Believes, nor belittles
It simply is, and encourages me to search
Search better, longer, deeper, and closer
Especially closer, where I can find the fire
Hear the fire, and see how it lightens my skin
Deeper blue as it melts you and brings you
Warmth and electricity never seen before
All this and more can be found
In the polarizing voice of truth
 
And it’s inside of you!
Everyday people commit suicide in despair
They can’t find the voice, it ignores
It repeats retorts resolving in resolutions
Rebellious in nature, blood stained papers
Everyday people murder and steal and lie
They feel they’re behind everyone, and time
Will not forgive, but simply remove
And all trace of impact will be forgotten
But you’re wrong you see, it is the air
Within us that commits us into the path
And the peace we pursue
That allows us to breathe it
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We’re Playing Dress Up and Democracy Is Our Chains

Take me from this church, I don’t belong to life

Humans shattering bones with blood

And taking life with a million knives

Ingrained in our society the absence of rights

Despite aged documents we claim to live by

Ingrained in our food, flowing in our water

Chemicals and poisons that shove us farther

Into the ground, tightening the chains

Into our ears the sound waves of slaves

We build walls around our brothers

Encourage mothers to terminate births

Tell men they have little worth

Tell girls they’re not pretty unless they’re white

Tell boys they’re the reason women have no rights

Tell whites they’re the reason blacks suffer

Tell blacks they will always suffer

 

I need a respite

We missed something, that’s right

 

And what’s wrong is that nobody knows right

Opposing views are shot down

The mob rules the country, drowned out

In their screaming into the air

Or taking up city streets in protest

Of what they can hardly spell or explain

I ask them what’s fascist, they can’t explain

I ask them what’s so sexist, they can’t explain

How can you hate yet have no reason?

You’ve gone insane!

 

#FuckTrump becomes a beacon of light

Only for those to ignorant to see the path

They tread the darkness, they are near to die

They’ve lost humanity, the breath of life

And while #MeToo rightfully encourages

Speaking out against violence and abuse

We are quick to discard men and uphold women

Who speak quite little truth

Emotionally immature, vocabulary quite fictional

Our short term dreams are whimsical

Social media distorts reality, and we crave the lives of others

Main stream media controls reality, but we’re okay with that

 

If you are fine with that

You were probably already dead

But I can’t be

And won’t be

 

 

Snowfall

Streets covered in an illustrious white

Icicles adorn each and every sign

Traffic slows to a standstill

Isn’t nice for humans to be paused this time

And let nature take control

Of our actions, our breath

It’s always there, but in bitter weather

The ante is upped, vision is dimmed

And we stay home, afraid of the hospital bed

The snow falls fast, it falls slow

It falls in frightening flurries

Or in radiant twirls

Twinkling till the ground it hits

And becomes the mass we hate to deal with

The tracks we leave show the lives we lead

Some curve while others are straight

Regardless of the obstacles this is ours

This life we make

And it’s easier to appreciate

On this wintry day

Will You Come With?

Where the sand touches the sea

Where the breeze runs free

Where there’s not a cloud in the sky

And waves lap a calming lullaby

Where you collect shells and sort them

And sip drinks with pineapple garnish

Where little children go off to swim

And the smoke of man does little to tarnish

Where evening skies are purple, blue, gray

And twilight invites the young and restless

Where I’d like to go with you one day

To be young, free, and forget our messes

When I feel down, I think of the warm sun

Sweating away my darkest nights

The evil swelters in the presence of light

It cannot dwell in me, it is undone

When I feel alone, I think of your smile

Delighting my pen, rejuvenating glory

A river flowing, I write as the Nile

The ending to the beginning of our new story

Where the sun sets, and our eyes close

Time rolls back, there’s nothing left

I will say of your love I was proud to know

Now I can be at peace, and finally rest

What Do We Really See?

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the clouds so white, the trees so green
bees make honey, and birds sing
ebbing and flowing I dream
are we truly what we see?
The Tanaga is a Filipino stanzaic form that was originally written in Tagolog which to my ear is one of the more musical of languages. (Kumusta ka? Mabuti salam at) The form dates back to the 16th century and has an oral tradition. The poems are not titled. Each is emotionally charged and asks a question that begs an anwer. This form was found at Kaleidoscope.
stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains.
syllabic, 7-7-7-7 syllables per line.
rhymed, originally aaaa bbbb cccc etc., modern Tanagas also use aabb ccdd etc or abba cddc etc or any combination rhyme can be used.
composed with the liberal use of metaphor.
Untitled.

Potent Poets

Fingertips glazed with potent

pictures of the fray

presidential missteps punch

humans out the person

poets ride like the cold winds

striking blows and leaving fast

the mangled guilt leaves a trail

for the universe to see

even the strongest eyes

will tear when stripped of belief

hope is wrong in the minds of some

choice allows something to be done

when the snow comes down

the cries go up

sounds of crashing content

demolish any source of common sense

railway tracks take lovers back

shoulders bearing caskets

tell us we won at last

Unwanted Reasoning

The voice sits beside me

giving not an eye to my humble disgrace

I’ve given my future children

to the soles of my shoes

I’ve mustered every excuse

as to why I couldn’t do

My brain needs more

and I need us

so what if I lose a little memory

then a little too much

I cause my own anxiety

and wince in the pain

then I write to the world

and pray I’ll be strong again

when will the cycle end

abuse of the hands, neglect of the soul

forgoing the beauty of the unknown

for a few seconds of trivial pleasure

my immaturity is shown

and my faith is the child’s cord

cut loose and thrown away

it was my lifeline not too long ago

I need it again

but that voice was lost forever

and now to the sinking sea

I must die

in hopes of becoming better

Morning Glory

today is tomorrow’s

yesterday

the circularity

is the amazing

yet the intricate differences

are what make it so intriguing

you may find the same thing

but never the same place

or time

morning glory

becomes evening dread

what will I wake to

if anything, again?

Appreciate Today

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sometimes I look out
into the confusing world
speeding around in infinity
do we ever stop to appreciate
the little moments
the precious slivers of heaven
that grace us but so often
yet so well
I’m guilty
of living in my fantasy
instead of a less gratifying
but oh, so overwhelmingly necessary
reality
I’m afraid of tomorrow
because I have no one
with who to share today
teach me how to believe
in the little lights
teach me to trust the word
without seeing the hands
upon which I was created

We’re All Long Gone

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ripples so clear
light so long
water so blue
hopeful this song
yet short is time
fast are days
quick are goodbyes
just enough to pray
moments are the reflections
on this bridge of life
some see mine as dark and murky
others their single shining sun
I don’t know who to believe
because I see mine as both
but I’m no judge
just a convict in a game
of puppeteers
and paupers
hoping to grope just a little longer
at their long empty bottles