Fighting Over Crumbs

All things to All things
Nothing is denied
But we’re fighting over bread crumbs
Because someone believed a lie

So now we kill each other
In our constant pursuit of more
We believe we are “consumers”
Because we don’t know what we’re for

Infinite Creation
Nothing more or less
But instead destruction follows us
When we put us to the test

Addicted to the thought of conquering
Sixty steps till we unlearn
That the truth of life is obvious
When we’re not looking for our turn

In the mean time there’s confusion
We’re told we have to choose a side
Contests between “us” and “them”
Where the winner doesn’t die

But what if someone told you
That everything is yours
And everything is everyone’s
And no one’s keeping score

The House is not divided
Upon the Rock is where it stands
Never to be shaken
By unreasonable demands

But because it can’t be broken
It won’t resist what it is we do
We can lie all the hell we want to
Because all of it’s untrue

Though we deny the Absolute
It simply continues as it is
Fully realized. No need to strive.
For it’s the life that we all Live

It’s the Bread that’s not devoured
Though we eat it to our fill
Diminishing every sense of loss
Like nothing ever will

 

Twisted

People,

In the wake of all that is going on with the violence, fear, hurt, and anger in this world, I challenge all of us who are seeking to transcend status quo to read this poem and take it into your heart. If you get something out of it share it. It’s autobiographical, but in the end, it isn’t about me. It’s about taking responsibility for the world that we are all creating. It’s time to wake up or die in our sleep.

The Love,

Pedro S. Silva II

Twisted
Open up your ears and hear
The story that I’m telling you
When I was a little kid
I used to get dissed on the regular

I used to get picked on
Poked at and made fun of
Because I was a sensitive cat
Always talking about One Love

Other kids my age
Had multiple distractions
Where as I was more focused on
Putting words into action

So when I took it to the streets
I didn’t expect to get straight dissed
‘Cause my shoes had too many stripes for Adidas
But not enough for K-Swiss

My words were for nothing
I only evoked laughter
I tried to get them focused off my clothes
But it just didn’t matter

They called me church boy
They said I talked “white”
But they were living cartoon
While I was living real life

I wanted to show love
But all they knew was hating
Perpetually playing themselves
Because they were mentally masturbating

They believed the lie
It had been passed down from their mama
Generations infected by an attempt
To keep the black man in drama

So I took it to the adults
I thought they would understand
But they were too “whitewashed”
To see this burgeoning black man

So I took it to my history teacher
Then he said this to my face
“You’re a smart boy
And a credit to your race”

He thought it was a compliment
Only a white man could say that
If he understood anything about me
He’d have known I wouldn’t play that

But I knew he had good intentions
I could tell he didn’t know
He was caught up like everyone else
So I decided to let it go

I then took it to my Grandma
But what she said left me unsettled
She told me tell white people I was Portuguese
So that they would treat me better

What the hell was that?
Was this some conspiracy?
Everyone and their mama working together
To try to instill fear in me

They saw something I thought was impossible
While I saw something else
They were choosing to believe a lie
But I chose to believe in myself

I knew that God had made me
And I know He only makes the best
So I knew the fact that I was not white
In no way made me less

Someone had gotten it twisted
And I was going to find out who
There was no way I was letting these scared victims of society
Tell me what to do

So at first I examined the white man
Since everyone thought he was so smart
I discovered so many despicable deeds
It was as if he had no heart

Then I checked out the black man
I figured they were more like me
But I got pissed to find out some of them helped
When we were sold into slavery

My mind became consumed with anger
I had to let it out
So I decided to tell every black and white
What I was all about

Well both sides called me a racist
In that they agreed with each other
Whites said I was an uppity nigger
And blacks called me siddity brother

So I then turned to God
Well turned on Him is more accurate
Because I didn’t like the way He made this world
I told Him I wasn’t having it

I said “You better do something
Before I fix this world myself
If You are the One responsible for this
I might as well pray to someone else”

He responded, “While you’re sitting here pointing fingers
How about looking in the mirror
I am the One that made all you see
Call nothing I made inferior

Who are you to judge?
Are you the scale by which all things are measured?
Are all things imperfect as compared to you?
Did you put this world together?

There’s a point to all of this
Just listen to what I’m saying
Perhaps I created this entire world
Just to have you right here praying

In Me anything is possible
To all those who believe
This world is as beautiful or ugly as you see it
It depends on what you choose to perceive

I made this world out of perfection
But in your Ego you thought you could fix it
This world will change when you change your mind
You are the one that got it twisted

© Copyright 2004 Pedro S. Silva II

 

 

This Is Not a Poem

This is not a poem

Despite the rhyming and construction

This is what the critic says

Because it doesn’t follow the poem’s function

I have to show you the dilemma

You have to struggle to understand me

You have to encounter the limitations

Of what a “good poem” can and can’t be

Clever lines don’t make it poetry

Despite conveying my intention

Good poetry has to stick to the rules

And be the result of pure invention

Please don’t come with inspiration

Don’t express in your own style

Don’t emerge with your own cadence

March in step and single file

Try to sound like someone famous

Do not always write in rhyme

 

People cry for peace

Meanwhile they are dropping bombs

Dead men can’t start wars

 

I just dropped some haiku lines

 

But maybe that isn’t poetry

I’ll ask an expert. They will know.

Or maybe they just know what poems are not

“Iambic pentameter is the purest flow”

Truthfully it doesn’t matter

If it isn’t poetry, I’d still be writing

I’d just be calling it something else

And in its expression be delighting

Not simply because I wrote it

But because it’s emerging from Creation

Like a flower that offers fragrance

What I give’s my participation

Whether beautiful or ugly

Lyrically strong or suffering weakness

What I bring forth is what I’m called to give

From the Universe’s unlimited uniqueness

For if I don’t shine the light I’m given

I am a thief and what’s more a liar

And claiming that I am not received

Is no excuse for quenching fire

So call it what you will

I will do what I must do

My words may fail, but I won’t hold back

It might not be poetry, but it’s true

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

 

Give Me This Day

How can I trust You today,

While still worrying about tomorrow?

Never present in the All that’s Now

When from the “future” I try to borrow

The day is sufficient unto itself

With all the fullness therein lies

Giving me all that I could ever need

If I could just see beyond my eyes

There is truly nothing missing

I am all I need to be

All absence revealing a greater Yes

From the view of eternity

There is no need for striving

All is accomplished in my vision

When I close my eyes to all that’s not

By making the One Decision

The gap in all things closes

Divisions now have ceased

When accepting You as the Soul Provider

And the Author of my Peace

On Earth as it is in Heaven

My hungers all have gone

Except the One that urges me to You

But is fulfilled when it comes on

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

 

Unlimited Power

Look at the tip of your finger

What is it that you see?

That which appears to be absent

Is exactly what holds the key

All that is in the visible

Has the unseen as its Source

The finest formless substance

Passing through into the coarse

Even though you cannot see it

The world is at your finger tips

Every possible frequency in a single point

All that ever will exist

Every movement bound in stillness

Until someone calls into the temporal

Instantly the command starts taking shape

It really is that simple

It all is living within us

What we hope for and what we fear.

We’re just chasing what we’re projecting

And that’s what brought us to the so called “here”

We were given unlimited power

To create anything in an instance

But for reasons that I’ll now explain,

All we chose to make was distance

Like a child who wants attention

We rebelled for our own space

While hoping that before we got too far

The Creator would give us chase

But the Creator just kept creating

Busy keeping everything in tune

So we decided to run as far as we could go

But to the Creator we’re in the room

You see, Omnipresence is inconvenient

If one wants to get away

Because as soon as you arrive at “somewhere else”

You realize you are where you always stayed

Some of us have accepted this

We no longer try to run

And we no longer chase our siblings

Instead we shine with the Present Son

That doesn’t mean that we’re not struggling

Perhaps we’re struggling even more

Because now we are completely powerless

That’s what we know we need Him for

We had exhausted every possibility

To create ourselves in our own image

Until we had nothing left in us to fight

And we thought that we were finished

Like a branch cut off from the Vine

We eventually began to wither

We could not be a Source unto ourselves

So to live we called the Giver

Instantly the Giver gave

But we took our time in our receiving

We had put so much into making our own space

That we were out of practice with believing

We needed an example

To remind us what to do

To humble ourselves accordingly

So the Power can come through

So the Son who lives eternally

Entered the dream of days and hours

So we can see Him though He’s invisible

That’s how He connects us to our Power

The more that we surrender

The clearer it is to see

That the Spirit has never left us

No matter how much we’ve tried to flee

That’s the Way of this Wondrous Power

It can be rejected but not denied

Capable of bringing back to Life

Even those of us who died

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

There Are More Important Things

There are more important things

Than the ones that I am pondering

Thoughts that distract me from all that’s True

And lead my mind to wandering

There are more important things

Than what’s in and out of season

Than comparing myself to others

When there really is no reason

There are more important things

Than what I make up about tomorrow

Fearing a future that might not exist

Or repeating yesterday’s sorrow

There are more important things

Than achieving my desires

If getting what I think I want

Means in truth I yield to liars

There are more important things

Than getting someone to love me

If in doing so I lose myself

And put that one above me

There are more important things

Than living a life of pleasure

If at the end of it I’ve torn your soul

And can’t get it back together

There are more important things

Than what I call religion

If I only use it as a set of rules

Without seeking its deeper vision

There are more important things

Than being protected from what I fear

Since it seems that trying to run from it

Has only served to draw it near

There are more important things

Than me seeking after wins

Since the race isn’t always for the swift

Or for the one with fewer sins

There are more important things

Than always being right

Since almost everything is relative

When seen in a different light

Yes, there are more important things

But what they are I do not know

So I occupy myself with this vanity

Until I’m forced to let it go

 

 

 

We Dig It!

We Dig It

There’s something I feel I must say to you
Don’t get angry just because it’s true
This is something I feel I have to do
Now let me break it down for you
We dig it!

When we see those people with nothing to eat
Somehow it makes us feel more complete
So we dig it.

We see they’re so poor so we’re comparatively rich
But if it were not for them, there would be no rich
How would we know if we all had the same shit?
So we need the poor, ain’t that a bitch
Can you dig it?

Man, so and so’s kid is bad as hell
But it makes my kid comparatively well
So I dig it.

Now here is something else for you
Once again it’s extremely true
Someone has to be down to look up to you
So thank God for losers because I’m one too
Can you dig it?

If it wasn’t for the darkness
Would there be light?
So thank God for the madness
Does that seem right?
This is something I won’t explain tonight.
But still we dig it.

Now there’s one more thing I have to say
None of you are wrong today
If it wasn’t to be, it wouldn’t be this way
It’s all part of the process of becoming OK
Can we dig it?

Luke 18 offers a parable attributed to Jesus that tells the story of a man who, while in so called prayer, compared himself to other people and found himself to be comparatively righteous.

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

How familiar does that sound?  Have you ever looked at other people and thought like the above Pharisee?  I’m sure most of you have.  I know I used to and I would venture to say that 99% of Americans do.  It is part of our indoctrination here.  And I think it is safe to assume that this is done the world over to the same degree.  It clearly was happening in Jesus’ locale and time and as we know it is still happening now.  The fact is that most of us would have no concept of who we are outside of the context of other people.  Like the Pharisee, we compare ourselves to others and either exalt ourselves or look down on ourselves in relation to the people we are comparing ourselves to.  This practice is rampant in humanity and operates at every so called level of society from the poorest of the poor to the richest of the rich.  From the highest IQ to the lowest.  From the least attractive to the most.  Do you see what I am doing here by calliing up these spectra?  When I say high isn’t that where you want to be?  When I say low isn’t that what you want to avoid?  The question is, who is determining what is “high” and “low”?  As you can see from the parable, Jesus doesn’t use our standards of judgment.  Most of us would be kissing the butt of the Pharisaical equivalent in our own time and circumstances.  We’d believe his hype and step all over ourselves to get into his entourage.

I remember one time some friends asked me to play basketball.  I tried to explain to them that I never cultivated my hoop game, but I was willing to play if they could concentrate on their game instead of mine.  They played all of the time and it was a waste of all of our energies to compare my skills to theirs or to get frustrated if I passed the ball into the bleachers or dribbled on my foot.  They assured me that they could live in the moment and just play for fun and drop the whole competitive thing.  “We’re just playing for exercise”, they swore.  Well, the game began and ten minutes in, I could tell that my partner wanted to punch me in the mouth.  It would not have been the first time I was punched on the basketball court for “making someone lose”, so I knew the signs.  But, this time  I was playing with adults, so I figured the frustration would not get pass the evil eye and the occassional scream of “COME ON!”  So I just did my best.  We were only playing to 21 and my only goal was to make at least one basket before the game was over.  I was actually having fun.  I was in my own world, rating myself solely by how close I actually got to getting the ball in.  Air, air, backboard, backboard, air, rim, rim, backboard.  Then it happened.  There was no hope.  We were going to lose, but I kept playing like the game was as close as one of those Mighty Ducks movies.

According to programming, my teammate was dying inside.  Why did he get me?  “Pass the ball,” he yelled.  I guess the possibililty of losing 21 to 6 seemed more appealing than 21 to 4.  But I took the shot and by God’s grace, we were 1 point higher on the defeat scale. 19 to 7.  I’m jumping up and down.  I made a shot.  And then the game was sealed as the other guys took it home.  As they reveled in their glory and proceeded to throw it in my face, I said, “Yeah.  You destroyed a guy who played the game 5 times in his life and only twice with other people.  Woopity doo.  But did you see that shot I got on you?  I’m only 5’4″ and I got that shot over your 6′ head.  How were you not able to block that?”  Of course he looked at me like I was crazy.  On top of that I took all of the fun out of his gloating.  “If Jesus were calling that game he would have said I won, but who’s keeping score?” I added.  After the dust settled and they decided that I was officially crazy, one of the guys asked me why I wasn’t bothered by the game.  I told him that I knew one of us was going to lose.  That’s just how it is.  If there were no losers, there would be no winners.  He needed me in order for him to feel like a winner.Because I knew that, in reality I had nothing to lose.  My role completes the universal balance.  It’s just how it is.

This is the reality y’all.  The Universe does not need our judgment.  It is pretty pointless in the grand scheme of things.  When we compare ourselves to others and try to determine our status in relation to them, it is an exercise in futility.  As long as we do that we will never be able to truly desire for the fulfillment of all life.  How can we?  How can we be happy for people if we think of them as being better off than us?  How can we see eye to eye with those in temporary need if we think we are in a position to pity them or feel sorry for them?  One of my favorite quotes is from the actor, Kevin Costner.  I read an article he was featured in after he won a bunch of awards for Dances with Wolves.  When asked how excited he was about all of the achievements he said, “Hey, I am just a guy living a life like anybody else.”  And that’s it in a nutshell.  We are all people living lives and making choices.  Comparing ourselves to others and gauging our value based on what other people are doing adds nothing to our lives.

With this poem, I hope the reader is willing to admit that we have this tendency to compare ourselves to others and base our worth on a false sense of value, if in fact that is the case.  We need to know that each and everyone of us is of infinite value to our Creator.  Do you know what it takes to get us here?  It takes everything.  God does not hold back.  God gives everything to everything.  God literally pours God’s entire Being into everything that IS. And then once we become self aware or should I say self conscious, we begin the futile attempts to break it down, categorize it, and judge it according to our limited points of view.  What if we could just stop it all?  What if we could just be with each other, appreciate each other, and just live our lives together?

So the next time you catch yourself putting yourself down or lifting yourself up solely based on other people, just admit it.  No one can really judge you, so don’t judge yourself.  And as Jesus beseeched us, “Judge not, lest thou be judged” (by yourself).

Matthew 7:1-6

Do Not Judge

7 “Judge not, that you be not judged. 2 For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you. 3 And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank is in your own eye? 5 Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.6 “Do not give what is holy to the dogs; nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you in pieces.