Category: Conformity

Money Problem$

Higher Up IDEAL1 Comment

Day 113 of 365

I’m one of the richest people in the world
There’s nothing I can’t afford
Whatever I want I, I instantly have
So there’s never a need to horde
I never have to strive
Nor do I ever have to wait
I command whatever I need to be
Without a moment to hesitate
If I think of a thing I have it
Completely skipping the passage of time
I’m presented with gifts before I ask
As if the Universe reads my mind
Now that’s what I call abundance
All the favor without the fuss
No need to be ostentatious
When my currency is trust
But as soon as I start my doubting
All of my abundance disappears
Then suddenly I’m falling short again
And living out my fears
That’s how it is with this thing called money
It’s the agreement that we made
Speak the language that it speaks
Or live silently as a slave
Sadly, many of us chose the latter
Thinking money is something real
When it’s actually just a symbol
Of how a group of people feel
It has no intrinsic value
No one can measure what it’s worth
But we treat it as if it’s life itself
When in fact it is its dearth
We forget that money is simply a screen
Onto which we project desires
The only power it can ever have
Being to assuage our consuming fires
But that is only temporary
That’s why we’re always wanting more
Separating abundance from our existence
In exchange for keeping score
It’s a game I never want to play
I want everyone as rich as me
Because when abundance is reality
Everyone is free
But money will not allow it
It goes against the calculation
That needs some to be the richest ones
And the rest in desperation

Image by Towfiqu barbhuiya

What Do You Mean By “What Do I Mean?“

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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?

Somehow We’ve All Been Deceived By the Impossible Illusion That Oneness Can Be Two

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I am not your enemy
Even though you were taught that decision
I see the Universe as it can only be
Absent of division
Whether I choose to agree or not
Everything is connected
But in the illusion of the divided mind
Anything can be dissected
We split atoms and we split up families
Draw invisible lines called borders
But can’t admit we invented it
In a war against natural order
Somehow we believe the lies we tell
More than the truth that’s in our faces
Competing for what is infinite
Just for the thrill of “winning races”
But there is no competition
Once you take away the lies
And wake up to the disturbing fact
That we’re all collectively hypnotized

Photo ironically by CottonBro Studios 😮

Reactive or Creative

Higher Up IDEAL2 Comments

I noticed something the other day
That I can’t get out of my head
If you move the “c” up to the front
Reactive spells creative instead
I wondered if it was intentional
Did the makers of the language know
Was it a clue for those who seek the Way
To maintain a Life in Flow?
They say, “Be creative, not reactive
Or at least reactively creative
This is the Way of wondering ones
For whom the Way of Flow is Native
Embrace the Mystery
Be present with The Presence
Instead of being pushed and pulled
Make movements from your Essence”
Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence
Onto which I’m projecting meaning
Maybe reaction is creation too
Even when it isn’t seeming
I’ll possibly never know for certain
But still I have the choice
To choose Reaction or Creation
In how I use my voice

Photo by Kiana Bosman on Unsplash
Instagram @kiana.bosman

Am I Confessing?

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If I worry when I don’t have to,
What does it really say
About how much it is I trust in You?
Are my words empty when I pray?

If I’m jealous of another
Is it a denial of Your Creation?
If I want what was never meant for me,
Have I led me into temptation?

If I refuse to forgive my neighbor
Who slapped me on my cheek
Have I forgotten I’m eternally safe in You
Whose strength’s revealed when I am weak?

If I try to get attention
That was really meant for You
By pretending I know the answers
Do I make a lie of what is true?

If I worship at the altar
Of things that are bought and sold
Have a made a sham of what Freedom truly is
For a little piece of false control?

If I don’t see me as You see me
Do I make the whole world blind
By denying what’s in all of us
And impressing limits on Your Mind?

If I refuse to receive redemption
Without the words to understand
Simply because I can’t explain it to other folks
Do I let go of Your Hand?

If I’m attached to what will never last
Am I missing Your biggest lessons?
If these thoughts are really on my mind
Are my questions my confessions?

Image by I.am_nah

Desparation

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If I had a dollar for every time we say, 

“If I had a dollar”

I’d have enough

To never even bother

I’d buy a private island

In a land faraway 

Take every single dollar

And give it all away

I’d be the poorest and the richest

And no one else would know

Buried my treasure in the sand

To see if it grows

Then in a state of desperation

For all that I have lost

I will hold myself for ransom

To see how much I cost

We weren’t born for this 

But still we do it daily

We let the world we created

Drive us crazy

“I choose the lie over life

Believing it will save me”

Is the thought

Of the emotionally lazy

You’ve been lied to

How is it possible you can’t see this?

It wasn’t God

Who created us to be this

To the One we are Beloved

It’s our Name from the Beginning

It’s believing otherwise

That’s the Genesis of sinning

Desperation

How did we get this way?

It defeats the very purpose

Every time we try to pray

I can’t stand it

How many times can we be told?

You can’t serve two masters

And the worst of them is gold

©️ Copyright 2021 Pedro S. Silva II

The Wages of Skin

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I’m sorry I apologized
When I was just being me
I was just a slave
Who falsely thought I was free

But now that I’m seeing more clearly
This is what I meant to say
Kiss my grits
And get the H-E double hockey stick out my way

I think you get my point
Without me going to extremes
I could say it a little harder
But it wouldn’t change an ounce of what it means

Besides if my dead grandmother were here
And heard me talk to you like that
She’d slap the taste right out my mouth
And give all my apologies back

See, the worst things in life are often inherited
Taught to fear in the name of survival
Illusions of superiority
Cloaked in the excuse that we’re all tribal

We say those before us committed the crimes
But we choose to pay the price
So when we accept the earnings of an unjust cause
The effect is our souls being sacrificed


Twisted

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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

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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

 

I Have Denied You

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I can admit that I’ve denied You

No matter what I’ve tried to say

Even saying Your Name a thousand times

I deny you every day

I don’t do it on the surface

How I do it is undercover

Every time I refuse to love my neighbor

As if they were a sister or a brother

When I close my heart to a stranger

Who may be an angel unaware

I deny that You are The Presence

By pretending You’re not there

I tell myself I’m behind You

That I’m following in Your steps

But the reality is if I don’t give You all

Any credit I receive is theft

I don’t want to be a liar

But I am every time I speak

When I act as if I’m special

Or that my struggle’s are unique

From the least up to the greatest

The categories that we impose

Are just as false as separation

The lie out of which they all arose

It’s one of the things that keeps me distant

Whenever I make it real

Saying, “I feel like I can’t relate to You

Because You don’t know how I feel.”

But in truth You’re right here with me

In everything I do

And suddenly it becomes so very clear

I deny me when denying You

For in relationship I was formed

In communion I was conceived

You accepted me for who I would become

Even before I first believed

That’s why You can’t make me doubt You

I do that on my own

As soon as I open my mouth to say,

“I feel like I’m alone.”

For that has never been my reality

Nor has it been for any person

Endings begin with this very first sin

And from there they begin to worsen

“If I’m alone then no one loves me”

“If I’m alone I can’t cause pain”

But humans aren’t meant to be alone

So the very thought makes us insane

That’s why we’re constantly seeking approval

Causing drama to feel connected

Chasing our tails to personal hells

Because we can’t accept that we’re accepted

I’m sure we don’t want to do this

But we find it hard to fight this

I’m thinking about You at this very moment

And yet I deny You as I write this

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II