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Cait Apr 27
A tragedy of the world and passage of time
of things that disappear from memory,
a pain i can not fathom.

The ones that die raging in the night,
that are unspoken for
or unheard.

The language of a people,
no longer spoken.

The traditions of a nation,
no longer practiced.

The culture of a family,
erased by time.

Things that have been eradicated
beyond life
and can never be reborn.
Things once so precious
that are almost entirely gone from the world.

How do you reconcile the genocide of a culture?
Dina Feb 7
It is funny how the things that are too much make us feel.
Too much of a bad thing is terrible.
That is understandable.
But what about too much of a good thing?
Too much love.
Too much freedom.
Too much joy.
Why do they scare us away?
Somewhere deep down we feel like we don’t deserve too much.
Just enough.
We feel like we can’t be entrusted with such a large responsibility.
Too many options to choose from.
So many places to travel.
All the foods.
Those of us faced with this dilemma are surely the lucky ones.
--
Perhaps their empathy is what stops them in their tracks.
The knowledge that most people don’t get too much or even enough.
But then again there is another fear, another emotion that stops them.
It is a fear of being seen. Of being judged.
A fear of their own power.
--
It is funny how we can be afraid of our self.
Funny and sad.
Fear of the raw, unfiltered, undiluted power that we all have.
Our upbringing and society’s laws cage us and inhibit our magic.
The lucky ones realize this and do their best to undo the damage.
To free themselves.
The rest live like caged birds.
Singing to please their masters.
To get some food and water.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 21
Rose was a Red
Dodgers are blue
We're stealing signs
How 'bout you?

Cheat like this
Not like that
One's okay
The other picked at

Keep to tradition
Not technology
Yeah it's confusing
So is most any ideology
Michael H Aug 2019
The great unbreakables and unscalable walls of yore are not broken.

They just ceased to be walls.
Now just a slightly dumbfounding mist.

You pass through them like a bad smell
because they were never really there.
And those that built them
With ignorance and shame
Are long dead.

They are only an obscure memory of pain, oppression or struggle.
Lights sparkle all around
Presents sit, waiting
Paper covered in sap
Keiya Tasire Jan 2019
Who am I?
Why am I here?
How do I grow?
Where do the words that I utter spring from?
How do my actions unfold to take flight?
What are the roots of my habits both desired and not desired?
When did my character become undesirably ripe?
As defined by Another?

Piously pompous extruding expectations
We both wagged the tail of judgment from our respective roles.
Each casting the wands of incantations, illusions, and lies!
One to change the controlling illusion
Another to maintain it's web and power.

It was handed down from the very first mothers
It was handed down from the very first fathers
It was set into motion from the very first breath of the very first lie.
It created the very first shadow of darkness that fell upon Truth.

Tainted, "It" fell from realms of Light, the realms of Love and Joy.
"It" tumbled and rolled down the family Tree
Branch by branch, twig by twig, and leaf by leaf
Deeper into the darkness, grief, sadness and pain.

We were taught to ignore the dragon of dysfunction
Lying among the branches of our human family tree.
As "It" grew and grew, and grew.
"It" matured and gave birth to expanding prodigies
Who fained deeds of compassion, fained loyalties,
Fained emotions, and fained love

To twist and to alter reality,
Aimed toward total power,  riches, and total control.
Using the swords of Expectations,
Judgments, half truths and lies, they waged war!
With their army of
Every wolf in sheep's clothing
Every entitled the fair-haired child
Every hero - rescuer
Every "I am the victim"
Every fearful guilt burdened peacemaker,
Every misunderstood black sheep,
And all the unaware lost lambs.
The cycle of dysfunction turns
As a companion within the wheel of time.
We are told to never speak of It and deny It's existence.
This is the power that feeds It as It expands.
And we find ourselves beyond the ability to contain "It."

One day our eyes open to awareness
We come face-to-face with "The Choice."
Do we go back to sleep? Or do we get up?
And if we stand up, what is next?
When we see our unveiled past, will we fear and hide?
Or arise as a seeking warrior of Light?
If we choose the Light will Love begin to arise from the darkness
Will Love transform "It" to find It's-self Immortal & Eternal?

Give me understanding of Love!! With Understanding I will seek!!
Standing between the windows of time past, present, and future
With the root of addictive desire, laid upon the alter
Banished! Gone!! Released!!

Will the Darkness  release "It" from the depths of grief, sadness and pain?
Without a word "It" became a He
And He draped the blanket of courage over His shoulders
with the Light of hope in His eyes.
Refusing to never give up
He dawned His Innate strengths
Refusing dire circumstances
Letting go of confusion, ignorance, vises, grief, blame, and all ill desire
He stepped straight and firmly into the Light which expands!
He stood with joy in the Light and looked back

As "It" became a She
And She draped the blanket of courage over Her shoulders
with the Light of hope in Her eyes
Refusing to never give up
She dawned Her Innate strengths
Refusing dire circumstances
Letting go of confusion, ignorance, vise, grief, blame, and all ill desire
She stepped straight and firmly into the Light which expands!

The Light embraced Her and embraced Him
They stood together seeking understanding
Their hearts opened
Each to sing their own song of joy, of love, of peace
Together in harmony
Dancing  in the Light as One.

So with courage, do my actions unfold to take flight!
With joyful Love the words uttered within my heart sprang!
How, I do grow!
I am fully here, awake!
I know who am I, really!
Because  in silence I sat upon the earth
As He sat upon the Earth
As She sat upon the Earth
Looking toward the heavens
She female and He male
Focused in silence, they taught me how to breathe.

Now throughout the generations of Time
We began to breathe as One
Together in Love, in Peace and in Unity.
Reaching and holding each other
Beyond and through the Wheel of Time.
The questions of our life stirs each of us to some kind of action. The actions we each choose are unique to our own personal life path. We each bring to our personal path ofseeking - our personal understanding about truth, our beliefs, acculturation, and family patterns. Of which culminate into our strengths and weaknesses.
By choosing understanding in the challenges of life, we are armed to step into a path of increased love, forgiveness, heightened spiritual growth, increased awareness and higher consciousness and love.
If we choose the path of ego defences we continue the dysfunction and the further weakening of our humanity, families, selves, hearts and spirits. This poem is about becoming aware of this process and the choice we each have.
Sillo Anderson Nov 2018
I remembered yesterday,
I remembered
I saw my granddad, shaking an old friend’s hand,
They had so much more than just reminisce of memories,
You could have seen how much they’ve missed.
The soft hugs, teary eyes and smiling silence.
They had truly missed.

I saw, how tradition had reckon their past
And view, how beautiful a little moment can heal all scars.
I felt the sour scorn of how much hate, they allowed.
And grew anger, way more than much to endure.
They sat, and talked as any old couple would,
As if they we’re allowed, but time grew old,
It never flew, it grew and so much more too.

But as tradition had instilled, they’re lives we’re no longer theirs.
They had all grown so old, and thankful,
Thankful for that little moment of an hour.
And they hugged, that’s all they could have done.
I turned, disappointed in what no longer be.
But with my youthful mind, I turned back.
I saw their love.
A love that fooled a tradition, because it never died.
It was always there, hidden and protected
Sillo Anderson Nov 2018
Umpires wailed at victory
Clothing defeat in exorbitant fame,
Socializing with pain
Only regaining power to fix all that has been shamed.
For only coinage consumed all faith
Of where victors must stay.
Oh,
How naive of hate
Playing buoyantly for a side in shame.
But pruning an eternity to be of salient visage.
For !
Mankind perceives its flaws as gate ways of life
And innocence retaliates only for its pride.
Aleyna D Sep 2018
A son of Adam born anew,
Arrives into a joyous hopeful stage,
Everything set in colors of blue,
Two becomes three on a brand new page,

A son of Adam as he grows,
Has certain traditions to uphold,
None of which he yet knows,
But soon everything will unfold,

A son of Adam as he gets older,
Must bring his molders glory and gold,
To be the brave unrelenting soldier,
To be a savior and above all bold,

Now when a daughter of Eve is born,
The molders have such different hopes,
The loss of a possible son they mourn,
Then soon they begin pulling her ropes,

A daughter of Eve for generations past,
Is a puppet to her family's whims and woes,
Not a rival to the son, she is an outcast,
Never allowed to be bold or oppose,

A daughter of Eve must become a mill,
And produce until she has procured a son,
That is her destiny to fulfill,
Otherwise, society will quietly shun,

A daughter of Eve can perhaps teach,
A son of Adam she has produced,
How not to become traditions leech,
And break the circle of abuse.
ARCH Jan 2018
I wondered I was one
I always gaze through mind
With great story of time

Eyesore of folks makes me weak
But flint of culture
Make me seek

I was a fledgling
Who just learn to flame
The fire of traditions

I learnt from folks ;
Nothing can fulfill human needs
But calmness is something
That you should meet
Pallestine beauty
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