The New Me

In a Roofless Church blog post, I wrote about how I sometimes hold myself back from shining my light. The excuse that I was using was that by holding myself back in some areas, I was somehow protecting the people who would otherwise try to hold me back. I’d hold myself back before they could try to. Yeah. That sounds pretty silly writing. But I made it make sense. Fortunately, I didn’t hold myself back completely. I made sure to write whether it was blogs, poems, articles, letters, etc. Doing this was like leaving myself clues back to me. And writing that post admitting to myself what I was doing was just the push I needed to stop holding myself back in one area that I’ve held back in for decades–my music.

The image above is the cover for my new single. Over a year after I wrote the song, I finally got to a place where I could put it out there and open the door to some new possibilities of creative expression. In so doing, I am admitting to myself that I have no excuse for holding back. Spiritually, speaking, I never had an excuse anyway as I express in some of my lyrics:

They can’t kill me
Holla if you feel me
Who I am was never born
So they’re never getting near me

Many of us are trapped in the habits of old patterns and behaviors that we want more than anything to break free from so that we can be the people we know we are capable of being–better parents, partners, etc. There are unfulfilled dreams that hang over us like shadows and darken our self-perception limiting how we show up in situations. This song is an anthem for those of us who refuse to leave this world without shining that light that we are. We will shine! To be the new us, we will kill the old us. The old us lives fearing the illusion of death. The new us lives life as fully as we possibly can.

Primarily, I wrote this song and am putting it out into the world for myself–to eradicate any excuse I might make to not shine the light that Creator put in me. Secondly, I wrote it for my wife and kids because if there is anything that they want to do, I want them to at least try. Even if they fail, they can hold their head up knowing that they put themselves out there. And I can’t teach them that if I don’t live that. Thirdly, I did it for everybody who needs a reminder that as long as they have breath in their lungs, it is never too late to be who you might’ve been.

To be the new me
I had to kill the old me
To wake up from this lie bruh,
This is what they told me

Wake up from the dream
Death ain’t nothing but a bee sting
Hallelujah’s what we sing
From the moment we see that real thing

To hear my new single click here.

Live Facing the Sun (For Bob Murtha)

In the life of each and every one of us,
There are many worlds unseen.
Perhaps motivations no one knows about
Or the push to fulfill dreams

Some have nightmares no one speaks of,
That if we knew, we’d have compassion
When they show up in ways we can’t understand
Or do things that are out of fashion

Some of us came to this place
Knowing exactly what to do
While others love the mystery
Of trying to fathom what is true

Some are neither here nor there
And can’t seem to call this home
Even when in a crowded room
They can’t help but feel alone

But then there’s those who are here and there
In them all these worlds are One
Being led they also lead
Ever facing toward the Sun

They have found the pricey pearl
Through the gift of truly giving
Leaving all worlds better places
Through the Presence of their Living

© Copyright 2019 Pedro S. Silva II

I wrote this poem in honor of a church member, Bob Murtha, who embodied a spirit of quiet grace combined with strong presence. My life has taken to a lot of places I didn’t ever expect. But the places I appreciate more than anything are the hearts of people who I never could’ve conceived knowing. I am enriched by it and grateful that God’s idea of the human family is bigger than what I can imagine.

My Creator

You are the Love of my Life
And the Life in my love.
Every love poem I write to You
Has been plagiarized from Your Heart.
Though words cannot contain You or express You,
You have endless names
So that anyone who will
Can know the satisfaction of calling on You.
But Named or not,
We cannot beckon You to come where You’ve never left.
You are always here.
The places we go where we cannot find You do not exist.
As the Psalmist wrote,
“When I awake, I am still with You.”
Am I still with You?
I must be.
Or I would not be writing words that only Love can speak.
Am I awake?
I must be.
Or I am dreaming the only thing worth dreaming—
That You are the Love of my Life
And the Life in my love.


Me

Emerging from Nowhere
Participating in everything
Desiring Nothing
I walk Alone
With everyone

Unfathomable Love

If you knew how much I love you
This world would not exist
Yes, there’d be a world and you’d be there
But it would not look like this

Where you now see separation
Everything you’d see is One
All would shine as they are meant to shine
So there’d be no need for sun

War will have never been
Every tragedy has been abated
You encounter someone who’s not like you
And that fact is celebrated

There will be no calls for justice
Or the concept of “what is fair”
Since we’d all create what it is we love
And no one else would care

Family’s only meaning
Would be loving as you love you
And lies would have no place to be
Since every spoken word is true

The most beauty you’d ever witness
Will be wherever you choose to gaze
Songs of joy would never cease
Along with never ending praise

But you choose not to know I love you
Because you’ve chosen one concern
To decide who else I’m supposed to love
Based on what you think they earned

So instead of the world I gave you
You’ve created a distortion
Invented lack in abundant life
And tried to break it up in portions

Because I love you I haven’t stopped you
I trust eventually you’ll get it
Because you’re in time and I am not
I can see where this is headed

I am Love that knows no bounds
Wherever you hide I will be Present
For the world you’ve made where I don’t exist
I have hidden it in Heaven!

© Copyright 2019 Pedro S. Silva II

For Your Consideration

How can we choose God who we cannot see and reject our brothers and sisters who we can see?
This is the choice before us.
To love who we can accept or love who God loves.
Nothing can prepare us for the full revelation of God’s love.
It is an undoing love that sets souls free.
God, undo us. Remove the chains that bind us to the false self,so that our true self can emerge.
Nothing can prepare us for the awareness that God fully loves all—even those we would not choose to love.
Choosing God is choosing all of God’s children.
It is choosing ourselves. May we choose wisely. Amen.

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