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Even the one
who lights the world
can succumb to the darkness inside.

We become blind
and see only the light.

The darkness can easily hide.

So you've scattered yourself
to the billions of stars that
blanket the billowing night

to help hold at bay
the darkness that preys
on the strong
and the weak
and the rich
and the poor
and the brilliant
and dull ones
alike.

You gave of yourself
with such ferocity of truth.

You fought with all of your might.

So thank you, old friend
for sharing your gift
and rest now
in peaceful twilight.
He stripped me down naked
Under those passionate eyes

Then my body began to melt
With hot chills on my thighs

My soul was devoured away
Trapped under a lustful spell

So powerless under his gaze
A seduction game played well
You tell me you're empty
And I know you want my sympathies
My acknowledgement of the problem
But all I can give you is the gawking gaze
Of a child on his first trip to the zoo
Leaving smudges on the snake tank as he tries to fathom
How something could be so alien and smooth and powerful.
You tell me you're empty
And all I can think is
That I have not a moment of my life to compare that to-
A day without suffering, without pain or danger,
Without that or joy so intense it tips right back over into treachery
I have no memory of any such day
To draw from for empathy.
I stand and stare at you
Empty you
And I know your sadness should be respected
And I know I shouldn't wonder so perversely
What it must feel like
Not to feel
But I can't help it
I feel like I'm standing on the other side of glass
Staring into the beady eyes of a boa constrictor
Wondering irresistibly
What its embrace must feel like for the mice it devours.
I know you are suffocating
But I
Am drowning
And I wonder
What empty feels like.
Title from Future Starts Slow by the Kills
I tell them "paint", and they do—
little hands make big, bold lines
in blues and pinks,
and "look I mixed it,
what colour is it?"
So proud of the dishwater brown.

I want to say: "if you mix many
beautiful things, you lose track of them.
They become all muddled, muddy,
like paint water, all of them."
But they just add glitter to the mess
like sparkles of stars and car headlights
in the darkest night,
in the depths of a hopeless sound.
The one who said

only Chameleons

Change Color

hasn't met Humans
"As the same fire assumes different shapes
When it consumes objects differing in shape,
So does the one Self take the shape
Of every creature in whom he is present."
(Katha Upanishad II.2.9)

"As the rivers flowing east and west
Merge in the sea and become one with it,
Forgetting they were separate rivers,
So do all creatures lose their separateness
When they merge at last into pure Being.
There is nothing that does not come from him.
Of everything he is the inmost Self.
He is the truth; he is the Self supreme.
You are that Shvetaketu, you are that."
(Chandogya Upanishad IV.10.1-3)

I don't understand,
Why, in this land,
Where these sacred
scriptures were written,
Were so many religions born--

I don't understand,
How, in this land,
Were differences encouraged,
When the backbone of all life
Always was recognized as liberation--

The acknowledgement
Of all different religions, castes, creeds,
Really broke the deal you know...

Imagine, if all the cultures were mixed
Instead of being *separated, unconnected, segregated;

And churned into a liberal philosophy
The Philosophy of Liberation (read: Moksha)
We'd have prevented so many wars,
All fought under the cloak of differences and disparities;
We could have averted
So much bloodshed,
So many innocent screams--

And these shudders down your spine right now?
They would be the product of fiction;
Not the echoes of cruel reality...
It really is a conundrum...when did we start refusing the uniformity of the soul? Why were another's thoughts disputed, when at the core, we are all pieces of the same fabric? Why were beliefs so cruelly championed, that punishments were distributed for 'noncompliance'?
I see that the world is tolerant today...I wrote these words to fully understand my unease on something that history had me thinking...
From where I stand, I see a backward progress...and a small part of me hopes that I've got it wrong...
Adorning a lover's finger,
Gracing necks of the rich
Illuminating in the dark,
but stained with innocent blood
Young hands toiling in mines of Sierra Leone to upscale stores,
Where entrance she's denied.
Such beauty they hold,
Sparkling, aren't they?
A measure of worth,
And status upon the wealthy.
Extracted with blood stained, trembling fingers for the pleasure of who,
still remains a mystery to me.

Dear Us
Their blood is crying for us,
The land that soaks up their blood welcomes infertility, are we really born with the mark of Cain?
Graves upon graves,
Mutilated legs and hands,
A rifle in the hands of a 12-year old boy plucked from his haven to a war he does not understand,
Bid peace farewell

**Diamonds Don't Shine In Africa
Inspiration: Kanye West_Diamonds From Sierra Leone
(Title Of Poem's From The Song)

Well, what do u know huh ...life's got a price afterall.

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