The Wages of Skin

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


Love Punk

I’m afraid to tell you how much I love you

Because you don’t love you more

Which makes my love for you seem too much

And you refuse to be outscored

So instead of loving you more than me

You try to make me love you less

Thinking how can I love what you don’t love

Which leaves both of us depressed

So in order to protect us from me and you

I hide my love for you in the future

So we can feel we learned what we already knew

Since you only run when I pursue you

That’s why I leave so I can stay

Creating space just to get close

Believing I can love you all I want

Once you learn to love you most

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

The Visitation – Being a Healing Presence

In our spiritual community at First Congregational Church Boulder, UCC some of our members are reading a small book called, The Art of Being a Healing Presence. Those of us reading it, are part of a small group of people who are choosing to heed the call to embody a healing presence with community members who are open to our invitation. Over the months that we’ve been meeting, my heart has increasingly found joy in our time together encouraging each other as we discover the gift of Visitation together. I wrote the following poem to/for them to both express appreciation for their gifting of themselves and to remind them that when we are being present, every moment counts.

The Visitation
It was only for a moment
It was here and it was gone
But when they think of the Visitation
The Presence lingers on

Breaking into Time-space
Eternity in half an hour
When two or more gather here
We’ve invited in the Power

Never underestimate,
What a moment can unfold
A single earthly encounter
A lasting balm for the soul

You were called to bring the Presence.
Being is what you do.
Giving form to the Love,
That preceded me and you

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

Matthew 18:20
“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”