A take on violence

The exiling waves of life
Battered a Syrian child
Swept ashore. We scrolled.
We shrugged this violence.

Eyes glued to a simulacrum of love
Expecting the controlled dominance
Of a filthy rich fictional character
We said: “It’s vanilla.”

Violence as an idea is sweetened
You gulp down the pill
But violence as a means is condemned
You still gulp down the pill.

March 6, 2018
Lyon 1 University

It's been quite a while now
Again, it just felt so wow

We both left each other with many questions
I always wanted to know why
Now, you choose to answer me with your questions
I wish all of this was a lie

Since we were immature
A lot of things were unsure
But the pain you've made me suffer was pure
I still cannot find any cure

Smoke filled dens of drifting ***** scent,
Imagined worlds dancing behind the eyes
of the laying men.
Heads fall back and pupils roll to face brow,
revealing a cloudy unseeing white.

What lies behind the eyes of laid men
that makes them respond to the sweet song of
lotus flower time and again?
Are they taken to that Mediterranean isle visited by
Odysseus in his journey, the idle isle where time lazily flows
and sunrise and sunset have no meaning at all?

If I was bunk mate to Odysseus on his mission home
and our boat met sand on this secluded cove,
would I see it for what it was?
After tasting my first sweet lotus petal, offered
to me by beauty divine, could I resist a second kiss?

Would I have bravely boarded the ship away,
eyes hard and mind set on my destination,
or would I have planted feet firmly to sand
and wave as the brave ones sailed away to face
the ever abundant misery of reality?

I try, I try to change world, but can't change life.

I hide, I hide, my weakness and my pain, every day hardworking.

I'm lost in the desert, I wonder who am I, no one can answer questions, all we can is, pretend life.

We are planning a lot, our life is over-scheduled, but we can't escape invisible deadline.

We are playing, we are playing, whole life is one game. showing emotions and tinkering, achievements and fails, but all is fake.

All we have is each other, we are all on one plate and There is no place for strife, battle and hatred.There is place only for Support, Collaboration and curiosity.

Thus and so, we are rolling the same boulder uphill and all we can is smile, there is no use of crying - that's the way we can achieve, achieve happiness of Sisyphus.

I know these are the things you will never say,
Because your mind is simply not made up this way
But I wish you'd tell me
That you were burdened by the expectations of the world,
And the reason why you let go of the so thought strong rope holding us together
Was not my fault,
But it was from your incapability to find balance within yourself.
I wish you'd explain
That life became a steep climb upon a large mountain
And you seemed to be carrying the weight of the world upon your shoulders.
And to make this journey simple, you let go of the things that were holding you back.
And one of those "things" you let fall behind
Was me.
I wish you'd look into my eyes and say
That you had made a mistake
Because you never seem to acknowledge
That the day I lost you,
Was the same day I lost my best friend.
And it pains me,
That your lost mind can't make sense of how I feel,
And what I say.
You are still lost in the expectations of the word
Because you so easily shattered such a beautiful thing.

Fear, despair doubt dread distress dismay.

Who would want it any other way

Love, Passion adore like amore, devotion.

This as my preferred emotion? What a frivolous notion.

Fear, solid heavy robust stable steady.

Fear, wealth worth riches store horde, plenty.

Love, frail fragile shaky sickly sluggish, rotten.

Love low, needy flat broke. forgotten.

In a year, three hundred and sixty-five days
Who came up with all of these things?
Now nobody asks but doing what it says
Following all the weird rituals it brings.

Christmas day falls on the twenty-fifth of December
How do we certainly know that this is accurate?
Nobody cares how this made its way to the calendar
Maybe we doubt, maybe not, all we care is to celebrate.


IB-Poetry©️
3/2/2018