Poem: Life Is Teaching You

You can hear the cries of the newborn, first

moments on the planet, in anguish

tried of it already, but

you’ll hear the babe quiet down, peaceful

the moment the unbounded love of the mother is felt, warmth

from companionship, yet

we are cold to others, forgetting

the first lesson ever taught to us.

 

Watch the school children racing back and forth, each

step making them just a little older, little wiser, little more mature, blossom

in front of your eyes,

the little ones grown overnight, watered

by your thoughts, ideas and opinion, both

positive and negative, beware then of what you believe in, otherwise

your seed may turn rotten, never

growing, only folding at the center as it grows older, head

bowed towards the ground, towards hell, the head

you filled with yourself, yet

we are quick to blame the seed, without

reflecting upon our own mistakes.

 

Life is cyclical if one is aware,

pay attention to your surroundings and all is revealed, those

who are observant need not participate in the dance, others

are stuck, going round and round,

angered by the unexpected,

shocked by the unimagined,

saddened by the roll of dice,

yet you blame fortune for your sorrows, are

you blind? are you deaf? did you not see your sorrows in others? Hear their pain?

Did you not see the hearse go by before?

Is this your first funeral?

why should you be spared when everyone else has suffered?

 

 

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Poem: First World Problems

Overindulgence of pleasure, immediate

satisfaction of misplaced needs, technological

era constantly produces new and better ways to feel pleasure, to

be disconnected from the self as connection with strangers is pushed, to

rely on machines and not the body, selling

products to improve your life, to

make life easier and yet it is the struggle we all admire, needs

of man are the same as they once were, yet

through manipulation of such needs, we are cornered into believing we need the,

new, new, new.

 

Need friendship, not the new phone to talk to your friends

need freedom, not the new car to go where you like

need thought to understand your anxieties, not

anti-anxiety, anti-depression, anti-emotions, anti-feelings, anti-self

pills of disconnect

new and better pills

solve your problems?

No?

new and better pills

now? addicted?

solved.

 

Easier and easier to be lost

new apps to find your way

daily suicide of the self

new ways to join groups

wish to improve yourself?

follow me, new gurus arise each day

want my life? Follow these steps

lies for popularity

prostituting the self for likes

can I get a like?

 

Shell is yours but what is inside it isn’t you

you mouth the words of other people, without

ever using your mind to think, puppet

on strings, move like others

the individuals are slowly dying

the group is rapidly rising

more new technology

less connection

new being

less human.

Poem: War, War

My hero; your villain

we mourn; you celebrate

we praise; you despair

right; right

wrong; wrong

each says, as

we die; you die

war, war.

 

Born a year earlier; later

thing land; that land

hero’s become villains, then,

villains are hero’s

from celebrating to tears

from dejection to jubilation

all cause the groud changed

but not the emotions or understandings we feel

war, war.

 

Detachment not attachment

love for man not for land

traditions, religions, and cultures secondary to the

individual, sapien and being

not a patriot, archaic like nationalism

nor a puppet moving on strings

neither your beliefs told to you

then

war, war

no more.

 

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