Chapter 20

Upon awakening and having breakfast, Bian and Jon visited the Xunatunich Maya Ruins, the old Belize Cultural and Historical Center, and the Museum of Belize, then returned to their room in the hotel.

"Racism is the worst form of mental illness, and, as such, is, *****-nilly, the origin of all invidious forms of worldwide inequality and iniquity," said Jon said to Bian.

"Take slavery and genocide as examples. If a human being believes her/his worth is rooted in the color of her/his skin or the slant of her/his eyes, then she/he is sick, terribly ill. Concomitantly, their behaviors toward others flow, usually unconsciously, from these odious falsehoods.

"Moreover, take our own nation:  slavery and genocide were the immoral engines that fueled both the economic growth and the territorial expansion westward. By1861, there were 4,000,000 black slaves in the Confederacy, not one of whom had a single legal right. "Manifest Destiny" in reality was the period between 1860 to 1890 when the U.S. Army decimated those indigenous peoples still alive, either slaughtering them or forcing them onto "reservations."

"Racism is but the child of slavery, and racism permeates today not only all of America, but also all of the world. To realize Peace on Earth forever, we must help the billions who suffer still from these myriad forms, not through penalties and punishment, but only through unconditional love."

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

When you hear a new voice
and it comes from inside you
and you realize it was always

feels like leaving your arms.

Of you
Of your voice
Of your lies
Of your fake smile
Of your fake love
And when I see you with her
After you called to say your flight was late
I know I’m tired
Of my love for you

When I look at you,
I don’t see darkness
I don’t see rain
I don’t see pain

When I speak to you,
I don’t feel sadness
I don’t feel neglect
You always show respect

When I think of you,
It gives me strength
Because you’re so bright
My brightest light

When I dream of you,
I find myself in your arms
Right where I belong
Right where I feel strong

When I fell in love with you,
I knew it was true
Because you drowned my sorrows
And now I can see tomorrow

the nectar of love
only comes with
the poison of pain,
two
for the exorbitant price of one

standing
at the chasm
of life and death
destroyed by love
grief remains
as life’s sole friend

the memories of love
now
belong to time
and this aging body
to the five elements.

© 2019

death keeps knocking on my door,
and, quite honestly, it's still the hardest
answer to ignore.

the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?

When will we learn to live together?

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Find it, it’s calling to you
In the soles of your feet
In music so sweet
In the food that you eat
In skies azure blue
Find it in love that you give
In the life that you live
It’s calling to you
In the voice of the lark
In the moon after dark
Whatever you do
Find it
In warm winds that blow
In storms and in snow
Find it
****
Never let it go

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

We don’t see the carrots to be cut,
We see the sharp knife that could cut us.

We don’t see the bridge,
We see the other side of the railings.

We don’t see painkillers,
We see medication we could drown ourselves in.

We don’t see the train,
We see the tracks we could lay on.

We don’t see the nice view,
We see the cliff's edge we could jump off.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

Has it always been this bad?
This unfair
This unjust
Is this worse than it's ever been?

Or am I just old enough to see it now?

I come
To you today
With yet another scheme
For a wild, foolish adventure.
Coming?

between waves
I write messages in the sand
the ocean takes them
and they are never seen again

You are as delicate as a paper

So when you hurt me,
it stings like a paper cut

I heard an angel sing today her pitch was high and clean
I wept out loud despite the crowd she was the best I'd ever seen
I had a thought unto myself her voice was meant to shine
I played guitar was keeping up another gift of mine
Although she sang without words or lyrics her voice it spoke to me
She touched my heart on many levels her voice it set me free
I don't know if I'll ever hear another voice like hers, this simple
poem doe's not do her justice these are only words

suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option

My words became
knives.
A paragraph,
a sword.
And when I
made
my first speech,
the room
                was
                        hit
                             with
                                            a
                                                    grenade.

When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Luminous,
Brilliant,
Gilded,
Beautiful,
Bold,
Warm,
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.