What Do You Mean By “What Do I Mean?“

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?

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