I really don’t get it
When liars get mad at being lied to
Bending truth like a pretzel
But cry “foul” when others tried too
I’m totally confused
By cheaters who hate a cheater
Their tragedy is a comedy
All of the drama but no theater
I have no time for manipulators
Who hate being controlled
I’m past your passive aggression
You can’t imagine the heavy toll
And polite people are perplexing
I’d rather be kind than nice
Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear
Because in time there is a price
And the “Holier than thou”,
Who are you trying to convince?
God sees your thoughts and so do I
So you can cut it with pretense
And I can’t forget emotional martyrs
Who find joy every time they suffer
Feeling good is like a full assault
From which they always have a buffer
Then there’s the guilty for feeling guilty
The ashamed of feeling shame
The people who say “I’m bored” so much
You’d think it was their name
There’re those who give advice
They never seem to take
And the ones who always “keep it real”
By being really fake
Every kind of reactive being
Whose heads are such a mess
But act like they have the whole thing down
But when confronted won’t confess
I can’t tell if they’re pretending
Or if they know not what they do
All I know is if I’m “too direct”
They say “Something‘s wrong with you”
If I say exactly what I mean
They ask “What do you mean by that?”
If I actually answer what they have asked
They say, “You’re too serious with all your facts.”
If I have no opinion on certain things
Because I have never explored them
They proclaim “experience-less expertise”
But are offended if I ignore them
They get angry if I talk calmly
Saying, “You don’t have any feelings.”
Little things can throw them off
They want my thoughts while they’re concealing
They are killers afraid of dying
Committing murder with their mouths
Always seeking clemency
But won’t give benefit of the doubt
And yet, I’m the one they call divergent
Because I’m slow to pick up norms
Discovering life as it shows up
Instead of aiming to conform
It’s enough to make me crazy
But I’m not trying to be neurotic
I refuse to believe it’s normalcy
To use emotions like narcotics
However this is what I witness
In the way that folks react
Feeling their way through unseen worlds
Then crashing like trains that go off track
But when confronted about their behavior
They cry and say, “I didn’t mean it.”
It’s like having your cake and eating it too
Now isn’t that convenient?
Category: Brain
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
Pain and Loss
There is a place where what we think we’ve lost
Is right here with us all along
Never not within our reach
Out of view but never gone
It’s a place that’s called Reality
It isn’t hard to find
All you need to do is reimagine you
And accept that time is not a line
It’s not even a circle
More precisely it’s like a sphere
Expanding all around you
So that any now is always here
With your focus on a center
Life moves in and out like breath
On the inhale you touch eternal life
While the exhale feels like death
But of course that is illusion
The in and out are wholly one
Try to divide them into two
And what you wind up with is none
But that is just a moment
In an infinitude of more
As soon as one ends another begins
That’s why no one’s keeping score
Now some would see this as their freedom
“I will do what I want to do.”
“No loss must mean no consequence.”
But actually it isn’t true
Despite the fact that all is here
And that time lasts longer than forever
There is a flow to how it goes
Which keeps it all together
There’s a pushing and a pulling
That manifests in waves
That creates alignments with likes and likes
Creating masters bound to slaves
Some people call it karma
I call it reaping what we sow
God probably calls it “It is what it is.”
But it’s a mystery we cannot know
It maintains itself through veiling
As we approach the truth we feel it shifting
Causing us to look again
Because now it feels like something’s missing
It’s not trying to be evasive
Even though that’s how it seems
Truth’s just trying to keep us moving
So it can pull us from the dream
There is really nothing to lose
This is the one thing we can gain
To wake us up from the fear of loss
Out of which we make up pain
© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II
The Mirror In the Man
I talked to the Man in the Mirror
Who led me to the Mirror in the Man
The thoughts that I reflect upon
That shape how I understand
He told me that to know him
I first had to let him be
To go back to his original state
Untethered and wholly free
Before he was a father
Before he was a son
Before he was just a survival tool
That state where he is One
His suggestion threatened my ego
I feared I would not exist
Without my mind to remind me of who I was
How could my ideas of me persist?
But he told me that all my big ideas
Led me further from the Truth
They were just stories I told myself
So that my so called life had proof
He said the Man in the Mirror
Is not really my reflection
That I was focusing all my power
On a mere ego projection
My mind shining through a filter
That casted only a shadow of myself
That I then looked at Creation through
Seeing shadows everywhere else
This was really hard to swallow
How could this really be?
How can I know who I really am
If my body isn’t me?
And what of other bodies?
If they’re not people, who are they?
And if I try to tell them this,
What will these other bodies say?
Maybe what they’re supposed to,
To ensure that they survive.
But if that is all that we can do
What is it that makes us come alive?
If we are not all these categories
And boxes people check
Are we really anything at all,
When further we reflect?
That’s really a scary thought
But one we have to entertain
If we ever are to know ourselves
As more than programs in our brain
In fact, the fear we feel around this
Is just another survival tool
Because the brain’s designed to not admit
When its programming has been fooled
Try it if you doubt it
Just try thinking something new
Say something that you don’t believe
And see what your brain will do
Synapses will start firing
Doing pattern reconstruction
Telling you what you already “know”
Just like the brain is supposed to function
It’s not easy to resist this
Even when higher knowledge has been revealed
We cannot do what we want to do
As long as the former pattern’s sealed
When I heard this, I couldn’t deny it
I had experienced the same
My brain was making all the rules
When I thought I controlled the game
This thought was so frustrating
The cognitive dissonance started hurting
Trying to hold these opposing thoughts
Was severely disconcerting
That’s when I remembered
Something in the Bible that I read
“Greater is He that’s in you.”
So I listened to “Him” instead
The “me” that is in the world
Started running out of time
As I began my transformation
Through the renewal of my mind
Paul said to die daily
Renewing body, mind, and all
Living from our heavenly body
That is aligned with our mind’s true call
But to do this we must surrender
We lose our lives when we try to save it
So the only Way to truly live
Is to return our lives to the One who gave it
This is the Mind that is in Christ
The Mind begotten but never born
According to the Original pattern
And not the ones to which the brain’s conformed
© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II