Poem of the Month - September 2019

 


August
              1
                 9
                   4
                     5.
Seems our world turn'd, (irrevocably),
      (having 'conquered' the Atom),
         to-ward good'ol' Doomsday.

August 1945 ---- Hiroshima, Nagasaki.
    (What more can one say?)

Here dedicated to all the Japanese innocents...especially children,
   incinerated by atomic, hydrogenic, & generalized nuclear
       "energy" unleashed by USA.........
(And also the Napalm fire-storming of Japanese and other Asiatics
     from 1941 - 1975)

God Bless the mighty fraud that is America.
**"Kill them all. God will sort them out".

** originally credited to the Christian Crusaders as they practiced "ethno-religious cleansing" of the Cathars, on their way wreaking havoc by way of "saving" The Holy Land.


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Buy me a bullet
Rent me a gun
I mean after all
This is what you have done

Tie me a noose
At the end of a rope
Isn’t that what you want?
For me to lose hope
 
Rent me a condo
On the tenth floor
You know that I’ll jump
Just watch as I soar
 
Give me a razor
Sharpen the blade
I’ll just be a memory
Like a memory, I’ll fade
 
So many options
Like a golden key
But you won’t let me go
You won’t set me free
 
You’re holding me hostage
In my own private hell
The threats keep me here
The lies that you tell
 
If I don’t make you happy
Then why make me stay
As you shove me through walls
New bruise everyday
 
The beatings are savage
To them I am numb
I no longer cry
I pray till its done
 
How long will you hold me?
How long am I here?
Before I decide
What you always had feared
 
To permanently leave
Not stand by your side
I died long ago
You ripped down my pride
 
And as your obsession
Your live mannequin
You drove out emotions
And now I can’t win
 
Won’t love another
You’ve instilled that fear
Never trust again
You’ve assured I’ll stay here
 
I’ve made you so angry
Don’t take back those words
Those threats on my life
I can’t leave, that’s absurd
 
I’ll just stay around
Till you’re tired of me
Maybe soon is the day
Finally I’ll be free
 
 
 

Humility is not humiliating  
It is the letting go of pride
 
Self-esteem flows solely internalized
Pride rides duplicitous  
Similarly internal
but twisted with a superficial slant
When the id is puffed up with pride
it greedily strokes the ego
Until coming
Apart at the seems
 
Self-esteem builds confidence
while pride leads to arrogance
Pride spins a feedback loop
that suffers from gluttonous envy
The more it feasts the fatter pride grows
then craves praise even more
to feed it's repetitious addiction
 
Self-Esteem is everything!
It fills us with a healthy dose of confidence
providing tools for personal success
Pride thirsts for more than just deserts
wanting others to fail, to have less
while saturating the porous ego
'til drowning in narcissistic reflection
satisfying feelings for oneself
Nurturing a necessity
to keep others lingering
on lower rungs of the ladder
to satiate the greed of the bottomless id
  
Building self-assurance while learning
the difference between pride and self-esteem
is essential to let it go
Because
Self Esteem is everything!  
 
The foundation on which to grow
Planting the seeds within  
Chisseling rocks into building blocks  
constructing self-esteem  
 
Suffocating arrogance  
Sprouting empathy and acceptance  
Rejecting fear, greed and pride  
While embracing  
Confidence born from pure esteem  
Where Charity is not a business run for profit  
Humility is the Meekness that inherits the world  
 

I.        
          
Lay it Down          
         
Warrior—the weight          
  of that  sword and shield;          
         
don't you find them heavy—          
particularly when no battle is raging          
despite what personal perception reveals;          
  or, how the veins in your wrists          
  throb from your mind’s eye          
  under the scars          
of self-inflicted wounds            
         
Release it          
         
Warrior—          
  that self-appointed penance of past;          
         
the burden is back-bending—          
its weight a fungi swelling against          
  your blood's          
  production of cells—          
masticating body and spirit          
  into a fatal disease of existence            
         
Surrender          
         
Warrior—          
  that rusted armour of doubt          
         
What inevitable war do you envision          
prompting it be worn each moment—          
  preventing communion with peace          
  among those sharing your space;          
what threat do you possibly perceive          
  warranting defensive measures          
versus live and let live          
         
II.          
         
Coats of Many Arms          
         
mask our feral nature;          
  but, we all have the same menu          
  from a numbered buffet of choices—          
         
some of the poorest in material cloth          
  seem the most content in living;          
         
patches they've stitched are gratitude—          
  things that can never be taken away          
only relinquished through death;          
  even then, there is no separation          
  just a return to our genetic composition          
of Love          
         
Others with cashmere or silk lapels          
appear miserable, grasping            
  onto what cannot be owned          
  for fear of falling, exposed          
  from their castle of clouds—          
a self-made Icarus, plummeting          
  naked in broad daylight;          
their mask exposed              
         
III.          
         
How do we become          
  what we are not          
         
and so easily forget          
  our spirit's purpose—          
all the peace and acceptance          
  we are born with, just waiting          
  to be resuscitated—          
  rise from their bitter grave of flesh          
         
How do we become so afraid          
  to love, and be loved in return—          
opening ourselves fully          
to commitment, security          
  without thought of losing control          
  over what was never ours          
  to own—or measuring ourselves          
against our neighbor's          
  accomplishments, looks, possessions          
         
What is the triggered-curse          
  of consumerism—to have, to be, to want;          
and, the secret to break its code          
  for future generations—          
how do we unwind what cruelty          
  crocheted into the womb of society          
         
IV.          
         
Sand falls through our hourglass—          
  a childhood playground          
  where parents sit in the outer circle          
while children of all creeds and colors          
  play openly together          
         
What was there to distrust back then;          
  or, evil so apparent          
  it had to be avoided at all costs—          
including genuine friendship;          
  how do we become separate          
  from everyone else . . .          
         
What gravity of race or creed          
  differing from our own          
  are we supposed to hate—          
initiate evasive maneuvers          
  or worse—allow jealousy          
  to overcome our purpose;          
         
thus, plot to tear asunder          
  through intents so malicious          
 it drives many to suicide          
           
V.          
         
Hating has become a societal norm—          
  the roller-coaster of news          
  a daily disaster—          
the wild ride anything but fun          
         
Politicians symbolize public distrust;          
but, we fuel hate by legitimizing attacks          
  through our divisive behavior;          
we use our intellect not for good          
  but to prove each other wrong—          
those who think differently          
automatically become our enemies          
         
Life becomes a survival strategy          
of forming factions—          
  separating friends from foes          
  rather than enjoying          
  what it offers together:          
         
Iron sharpening Iron—            
  the contrast of undesired          
 honing who we are            
         
VI.          
         
Can we unravel the cassette          
of pain entwined around each person          
   filled with resentment toward life—          
   the taut bondage binding hope          
   from happiness buried so deep          
Yet, waiting to reemerge            
         
How much of ourselves          
  are we willing to sacrifice          
for another human being—          
  our lives, perhaps;          
is this the true parable          
  of the crucifixion:            
         
the weight of what we offer another          
  measured in increments          
from our own painful experience—          
  yet, painful triggers offset          
  our good intentions—          
  and we pause in our work;          
         
going only as far as our own          
  bruises carry us, ceasing inside the hurt          
before fully abandoning our task          
         
VII.          
         
Hatred is a software update—          
  it comes by default;          
but, you can fully reject it;            
         
it stems from the dirt            
  of each person believing          
  their own ideology is truth;          
         
they reject ethnicity because              
  their own kind are superior;          
they detest an opinion because          
  they personally know better          
            
However, personal perception          
  is not a universal truth;          
we are blinded by our beliefs          
  in ignorance—          
            
that alone is why we hate          
         
But, inherent goodness—          
  as difficult as it may be to digest          
  is our true human essence            
         
VIII.          
         
Oftentimes hatred is personal—          
  a social game where people recruit          
  others to hate based on rumours          
versus personal experiences;          
  enter hierarchies and cliques          
         
Manipulators, leaders, and politicians          
know how to play mob mentality—          
  in biblical days they riled up women          
  to unite enemies for a cause—          
much hasn't changed in that respect          
         
Having a common enemy          
is how hatred evolves—          
   ‘them’ versus ‘us’          
    because we’ve been taught          
    attacking first is the way to survive          
         
This is how people hate:          
         
  they believe destroying someone else’s          
  reputation first will elevate their own;          
         
however, three things          
  cannot be long hidden:          
  the sun, the moon, and the truth        
         
IX.          
         
Knowledge is power—          
   the key to defeating hate;          
recognition is the lock          
         
We are all kindred—          
  of African descent          
we share the gene pool          
  of Homo sapien origin          
         
There is no 'us' or 'them';          
  there is only one 'we'—          
   a human species          
attempting to escape our planet          
  rather than rebalance—          
         
reverse injustice toward Earth—          
the preference for profit over life          
         
X.        
   
Ego is a death-trap  
  we all learn to escape—   
often times the hard way     
         
So, before it's too late  
  and this life is gone—
  lay it down          
         
Warrior—the weight            
  of that sword and shield          
  you needlessly wield;          
pick up a mirror instead—          
         
because the only righteous hatred          
   you should rage against—          
   the only war that truly exists          
is the ignorance within yourself          
         
The only coat of arms you own          
  should be hanging on your wall—          
not as a battle call, but reminder          
  of how far we've evolved          
     
Release it          
         
Warrior—          
  the jabs you take      
  merely boomerang;
haven't you learned that yet       
         
Surrender          
         
Warrior—let it go          
           
Propio vos sanguine pasco—          
  I feed you with kindred blood          
~