Once upon a time


Be sit yourself upon this chair, I have a story to tell.
It is a tale I have told you before;
You have already heard it and you know it well.
But still I insist I shall tell it to you again,
So when I am gone and taken from this world,
You too shall sit someone down and begin to explain.


This story is truthfully a metaphor;
A tale to teach an image, upon which is born,
Inside a mind, not yours or mine;
But these are the words we were taught long before.


As age creeps up on us, the words may change,
But the fable and its meaning shall remain the same.
So even when we are each gone to our graves,
These images we portray shall be pictured again and again.


In winter nights when all around us is cold
And the candlelight our only protection.
We shall each of us be able to speak of this day
And the years that came before; we shall slumber with contemplation.


In dreams we shall picture the noises we have heard;
They were told to us many times, by him or by her
And as we curl up tightly in our beds at night,
We will find ourselves taken away to a new place with these words.


And when we arise in the morning light,
We will contemplate a new meaning we have gained through insight.
We shall realise the motivation to pass the torch to a new life
And the story will continue to evolve
And to grow with each passing hindsight.


With each time the story is told, it will be open to interpretation;
With each foretelling, with each piece of knowledge gained,
We are able to choose whether to tell it as fact or fiction.
The story is ours and we are all free,
To be the ones who decide if we will allow the stories ending to change.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Sorry to interrupt your schedule program but I need to talk with the Mr. and Mrs.
Lead the children out I don’t want to shock them with the truth I am speaking
The world is ending in a couple of minutes by a force of our creation
No point in fighting just try to crying for mercy
Correction no point for begging cause there’s no escaping.

Your parents are wailing but you are all laughing at hands outstretched across the horizon
Maybe you aren’t scared of my image because you have no basis to draw your perceptions
You are still individuals not products of your parents’ dreams and fears
You still have free will, no concept of living, of course, you won’t be afraid of dying
You aren’t affected by my presence since you have yet to be introduced to me
But eventually you’ll fear me, join me, and you’ll be the cause of your child’s undoing.



© Sofia Villagrana 2018

Snow will fall
Rocks will fall

Rain
and dust
and hail.

The sun will shine …
as will the moon.

Infinity never fails.

Milk from the cows.
Honey from the bees.

Love will always warm our hearts
and shade will bring us ease.

Swallows to Capistrano.
Lemmings to the sea.

Racers to a finish line.
Captives to be free.

We can never change these things
No matter how we try.

We will always walk upon the grass
and gaze up in the sky.

A girl will grow to be a woman …
A boy to be a man

And when they are gone …

More will come.

The destiny …

The plan.

my brother does this thing where he siphons the stories from someone. Usually old people because they have the best stories

I drive through the old homestead – the fog of my emotions

Have of my memories

My father does this thing where he holds his little hands at his waist, twisting them inside one another

We are three generations eating dominoes pizza

Defined by death and divorce – not there and not existing yet
My grandfather is 90. He is stories made flesh and my brother pulls at them like a rope from a,

Well,

Because he has discovered the census data for Ham Lake from 1940

My grandfather tells stories of the missing generation

His father – can’t work because he’s a welfare brat

His mother died young

Stepmother an angel – gave him socks when his father was crying because they cut him off

My father – tells underbreath mumbles of lost arguments and lost respect – he gives me socks for Christmas

Father drank a lot. You get to pick who I’m talking about. Maybe alcoholism skips a generation. If so I fear for my children.

Grandpa joined the navy. His father got a job – everyday worked it through sickness and in health – a marriage of money and mind because the paycheck meant freedom and freedom meant everything

He finds his dad at work – navy uniform coated in the expectations of his brothers.

“So you went and did it.”

The story kind of trails off there, the way old people stories do. Kind of like young person poems

I helped my dad set up the TV we got him for Christmas

Because he never used the guitar center gift card from last year.

servants to society they roam
with blank, controlled minds,
meaningless obsessions fuelled
by selfish desires, unkind.

grandiose, pointless gestures
declaring nothing,
self-importance derived
from insistent buzzing.

absorbed by devices
holding existence hostage,
vacant stares, virtual prison,
lack of interest and knowledge.

Protected by the guise of
communication,
slowly ripping society
from its very foundation.

engrossed by nothing that matters,
materialism, image,
being flattered,

pretentious clones, lifestyle fictitious
there’s always a bigger picture,
but they’re preoccupied, pernicious.

disadvantaged by modern living,
people can be untrustworthy,
people are unforgiving,

misleading technology,
cruel traits heightened,
an entire race
believing we are enlightened.

Tiny petals,
Tinted pink
Dew drops drip down,
Smooth and sleek

The wind whispers,
Gentle, calm
Dance and settle,
Within the palm

Of a small child,
Pure and sweet
Ever so slowly,
Drifting to sleep

And on,
The willow quietly weeps
Before the becoming,
Of a mindless sheep

We,
who watched them,
down bottle after bottle.

We,
who are afraid to look
at a mirror, simply because
we’re scared to see
the alcoholic who raised us.

To all of us who don't look,
knowing we'll only
​see our predecessors -
those who couldn't stay sober
enough to raise us -
instead of seeing change.

I never understood the hype about memes
But I search for them now
Just so I can tag you and maybe
Make you smile a little more today
Because your smile is the brightest thing
And it makes my heart sing

I know I make everything complicated
I can't promise that won't keep happening
But I will try to take the sting away from pain
Because you deserve the sun
And I'm only human