Category: Love

What Artists Reveal (WAR)

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There’s a war happening
There’s a war happening 
In the Artist’s heart in All Ways
There’s a War Happening 
War of the worlds 
War inside
Collateral damage 
Even if no one dies
There’s an internal battle
When a baby cries
Hunger and no food
Creates a world of lies
Open your eyes
It’s not just me that’s singing
It’s an entire Universe 
Of controlled screaming
Destroying ourselves 
Just to find meaning
I defy meaning
With my dreaming
Because there’s a war happening
There’s a war happening
In the Artist’s heart in All Ways
There’s a War Happening
Artists exist
To control the chaos
But the irony is 
They don’t want to pay us
When tyranny comes 
First thing they do is take us
But we just keep creating
As they all forsake us
We’re springs of creation
They cannot remake us
Transmitting love
To even those who hate us
There’s no argument 
They cannot debate us
Proof of God’s Love
Is that God creates us
We just surrendered to the fact
That we can’t create ourselves
Then miraculously
We can create ourselves
Given the authority 
To transform our hells
These prison walls 
Are no more our cells
Our presence is the secret
That no one tells
The holes in our hearts 
Have become our wells
And it’s from these wells
That your soul’s drinking
Thoughts become things
So we’re not thinking 
We live by inspiration
We only move when still
Translating silence
To express our will
Channeling frustrations
So the truth’s revealed 
And we’ll keep on creating
Until the world is healed

© Copyright 2024 Pedro Senhorinha Silva

In an upcoming article for the People Are Not Things Linkedin Newsletter, in reflection on a training I was just a part of in DC, I will examine the role art plays in creating new models for human compatibility and flourishing even in the face what could appear to be imminent institutional collapse. In addition to the folks present at the convening, I was inspired by Asha Romeo (https://www.asharomeo.com/) to write this piece and use AI to create this image. Asha sang the hook on my rap single, Take This Life (Make It Light) and sang for several services when I was a pastor to include the final song on my last Sunday. She is a singular talent with amazing musical range. She will soon be relocating from our neighborhood to LA to pursue her music career.

When I thought about her journey as a child from a small town named Gondar in Ethiopia to Boulder, CO and how because of that journey this community has been filled with music that would have not otherwise been here, I realized something about art that I had never considered before. Artist transmute chaos into culture. Even when I think of my own artistic expressions, I know them to be the result of wrestling with a lifetime of polarizing tensions that through inner struggle show up in the word as–at least semi-coherent–expressions of the underlying harmony that I believe turns potential danger into a potent dance with what could be considered conflicting loyalties.

Mindful of this, in this poem, I wanted to celebrate what she and other artists bring to our spaces by bending chaos to their creative will. Without them, where would we be? And more than that, I want to encourage each of us to tap into the artist that lives in each of us. I hypothesize that much of the challenges that we are experiencing in many of our social landscapes is because of unmetabolized traumatic experiences that work themselves out in our interactions with others on every level from interpersonal to international. But, it doesn’t have to be that way. With artistry, we can choose to create systems that works better for more people.

Take This Life (Make It Light) [https://youtu.be/pMVTFt5cYk4?si=KtoVSqVXh0-u4Z13]

Body of Evidence

Higher Up IDEALS2 Comments

Looking out into the distance
I wonder what is beyond the horizon
Out in the yard, we build our outer strength
To prepare for the war that’s waged within
“I am worthy”
For my body tells me so
And all I am here is a body
A body of evidence
A body of work
A body made for work
Nothing more and nothing less than a body
I just am what I am
And no one gives a damn
They don’t want to understand
That more than a body of work, I am
A Body of Intelligence
A Body formed and informed by Divine Intelligence
The same Intelligence that created the stars
Made maps of my scars
Came near from afar
And drew closer to me than breathing
Made knowledge out of my believing
Taught me that giving is receiving
Never forsaking or leaving
Grief more intimate than all my grieving
Descending into the depths
Soul bleeding
On the mission of retrieving
The part of me I lost
When I believed that all I am is a body
A body of evidence
A body of work
A body made for work
But I am more than a body
I am somebody
A member of the One Body
Undeniably valuable
By the virtue of my being
My eyes are now seeing
Beyond the horizon
Noticing now
What I couldn’t see before
There is no wall
There is no door
There is no one keeping score
I am imprisoned no more
But I am not free
For I am my brother and sister’s keeper
And giving is receiving
I can go but I’m not leaving
Until you see what I see
We are somebody
A member of the One Body
Undeniably valuable
By the virtue of our BEing
A Body of Evidence
A Body of Work
A Body made for the Work
Of giving form to the Divine Intelligence
The same Intelligence that created the stars
Made maps of our scars
Came near from afar
And drew closer to us than breathing
So that seeing can become believing
Joy can replace grieving
When one leaves we’re all leaving
Going out beyond the Horizon
To discover what we were made for
Amen

©️ Copyright 2024 Pedro Senhorinha Silva

Photo by Kirt Morris on Unsplash

Trusting the Process

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I pour my self into You
Trusting You will never spill me
Never fearing emptiness
Because I know You’re here to fill me
The terror known by many folks
Who can’t contemplate Your Promise
Is dissolved the moment I witness You
So I give it all to keep me honest
I don’t want to pretend to Trust in You
Only when for me it is convenient
Then as soon as I don’t get what I want
Realize that I don’t mean it
To me Trusting You is its own reward
In fact it’s my only Treasure
Because anything that does not have You there
Will never stay together
From the beginning and to the end
From the first and to the last
Without You nothing that seems to matter
Ever truly has
Nations continue to come and go
Things that were enter non-existence
While people pretend to get it all
Through selfish one sided resistance
A horrible error in calculation
No one can hold their breath forever
Whether you last exhaled or last inhaled
The project of breathing is both together
And that’s what this world’s forgetting
Perhaps some of us never knew it
Oneness isn’t the strongest wins
It’s polarities congruent

©️ Copyright 2024 Pedro Senhorinha Silva

Whenever I write a poem, it is the fruit of weeks if not months or even years of spiritual labor. I don’t write to influence. I write to express. What emerges contains every part of the process that you would witness in the natural process of growing an actual fruit tree. And I never give way to the temptation to pick the fruit early. When it’s ripe, it falls on its own.

As the video explains, this poem was born out of two months of struggling to write about trust and a bout with a short term unwellness that rendered me extremely contemplative. What the video doesn’t say was that for most of the three days that my body was fevered and in pain, I was repeating “Thank you God. I love you.” as if it was my breath. I did this in part because of a practice I developed a long time ago based on James 1:2-8 where adherents are advised to count all of our trials as joy. And the other part is that I imagine that most people’s conversations with God are about asking for things they want to come in and things we don’t want to go away. So, I just decided that I would not ask God for anything and just be thankful. Besides there were a number of times when I was a pastor that I would suggest to people that they say “thank you” as a part of their process. So, I had to take my own advice.

Now, before you get into this video, let me me warn you that it may come off as a little irreverent. It isn’t meant to be. But, it is meant to make folks think. It is meant to challenge you and to basically call out where I think our lack of trust is leading us. I put this out here in trust. I guess that is where I will leave it.

Learning How to Fly

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I was checking in with my soul
About everything that is passing
Then looked out to the world of form
For the answers to what I was asking
What am I supposed to do
When witnessing misdirection
Of people who are inclined to trust too much
Yet, will refuse a course correction?
Should I keep to myself while they keep to theirs?
It will be what it will be
Never choosing to intervene
So we’ll see what we will see?
Then out of nowhere the answer came
I looked and saw an eagle soaring
Symbolizing such a way
That I can’t go on ignoring
Do not judge this way or that
Because you don’t know where folks are going
If they are not on the path you’re on
What you say is not worth knowing
Just receive whatever is yours to have
That makes for truer living
And if some don’t honor what it is you have
Just move on and keep on giving
For it isn’t convincing that wins the day
A reward isn’t what you’re earning
It’s the gift of soaring above the fray
So that you can embody what it is you’re learning
© Copyright 2023 Pedro S. Silva II

As I was talking to God about some of the stuff I’m processing, I looked up and saw a bald eagle. When I saw it, I was in Massachusetts. I lived in Mass for almost 10 years and never once saw a bald eagle. I didn’t even suspect that they lived in this area. But, I googled it and in fact, it said that there are currently 76 pairs of bald eagles in MA. So, there’s a slim chance of seeing.

I looked further and learned that in some indigenous traditions, bald eagles symbolize non judgement, spiritual seeking, and pushing the limits of self discovery and personal liberation. Let’s just say that I can relate.

Seeing the eagle then was a comfort and a reminder that when we ask we receive, when we seek we find, and when we knock the door opens. And I have no influence on who makes these choices or not.


Photo by Mark Olsen on Unsplash

Much of the content that has emerged since November 19 is my processing the death of my friend and mentor, Carlton Pearson.

Grief is a Midwife

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Grief is a midwife, giving birth to who we’d never be without loss’ seed.
Realizing that you’ll never again be who you used to be makes room for who you are becoming
So let yourself weep. Be emptied of who you’ve been
Because someone wiser, more capable, and more honest is waiting to emerge
Everything you held back, waiting for the right time can be released from its temporal prison
The time to be who you were created to be is always now
And yet, in the realm of human relating, there is always an order
First the mother and the father, then comes the child is the way it is written
But also true, is that before mother, father, or child took residence in the womb, they were wholly conceived and fully known in infinity
BEING from the beginning AND dwelling in time is the Spiritual reality of those who embrace the human reality that in this life we must learn to hold grief in one hand and joy in the other
So grieve as you must, tremble with the pangs of rebirth
It is the falling away of who you can no longer be
So that who you’ve always been can come to LIFE

© Copyright 2023 Pedro S. Silva II

In my last poem, Higher Dimensions, I mentioned that my friend, Bishop Carlton Pearson was sick. Well, a few days ago on November 19, he died. Since that moment, I have been going through the 5 Stages of Grief by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, M.D. pretty much in exact order and quick succession.

  • Denial
  • Anger
  • Bargaining
  • Depression
  • Acceptance

I don’t know if I am going through them in an orderly fashion because I know of them or because they are natural. Either way, I am going through them without resistance and telling everyone that I am meeting up with in person during this holiday season that if I go in and out and look disinterested it is because I am grieving someone I felt very close to.

The Sixth Stage of Grief
The poem above is part of the lesser known sixth stage of grief by David Kessler, Finding Meaning. In the text below from Carlton, he was ministering to me in my grief about leaving ministry. But, I find that it is equally applicable for grieving him.

I have been holding back so much over the years because I didn’t feel like I could bear to relive the rejection I received from the Pentecostal church I was a part of years ago. I met Carlton in the height of his rejection and the scarring over of mine. For a season I had easy access to him because many in his life had turned on him. In that time, we talked out all we had endured and marveled at how our lives mirrored each other even down to both of our wives working for airlines and the adventure of flying on standby. It was kind of uncanny. What differed was that he still wanted to go back to the folks who rejected him and make plain what he had not fully been able to articulate at his dismissal. I did not. I only wanted to talk to people who indicated their openness. And that’s where our paths diverged.

Now that he’s gone in the body, I’ve been trying to make meaning of the last couple of years. He was way busier and folks who formerly rejected him started popping back in. He was terribly hurt by Trumpism and how easily evangelicals surrendered to this so called “strongman” and seemingly put him on par with the Christ Carlton loved so much. He was trying to reconcile how he gave so much of his life to that expression of Christianity and how in some ways he felt complicit in many folks, especially Black folks, believing such painful doctrine. He wanted to make up for it. And in that way, he was like a modern day Paul of Tarsus trying to preach his new understanding of Christ.

I totally understood AND I couldn’t get into it with people who didn’t want to meet even halfway. Twice in his life, he gave up everything for his love of God and people. The first time it almost cost him his life. The second time, it did.

Even though I foresee myself writing out a lot of words in my grief processing, words can’t begin to express the contribution this man has been to human evolution in consciousness. I predict that we’ll be discussing him for generations. As for now, I’m going to keep talking to him in my heart and writing my way into who I’m becoming.

Joy Spills Out

Higher Up IDEALS1 Comment

Day 115 of 365

This feeling has just come over me
But, I cannot explain it
It is calling me outside of myself
And I cannot contain it
Like liquid light if it moved through space
All of me is filling
And I am called to go outside
To share everything that’s spilling
Is this the Living Waters?
Am I made to be a fountain?
Facing down as I’m going up
Like walking backwards up a mountain
I can feel that I am changing
Into someone I didn’t plan to be
Opening eyes that once were closed
To show me who I am to see
It’s like looking into a mirror
And seeing countless images emerging
Then accepting that none of them are me
As a condition of my purging
Then the last one speaks, and says to me,
“What you received you have to give
Generosity is the flow of life
And the only way to truly live
So consider yourself as empty
For the sake of receiving more
Than one lifetime could ever hold
So, feel free as you explore
Release the fear of losing
Because there’s nothing left to gain
The joy you wanted to hold onto
Was never meant to be contained.”

Image by Vale Zmeykov on Unsplash

Poem inspired by a conversation with Douglas Abrams co-author of The Book of Joy with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Brought to the Boulder Public Library through the support of the Boulder Library Foundation.

If you would like to follow my poetry journey to share 365 poems, follow me on Instagram.

Surviving Heartbreak

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Day 104 of 365

You finally gave your heart away
The recipient returned to sender
Now you don’t want to ever hurt again
So you’re incapable of surrender
You barely survived the heartbreak
You say you can’t do it again
But if you don’t keep putting your heart at risk
Love will never win
I know it’s a dilemma
I’ve known that pain myself
If the first person thought I was not enough
How can I ever trust someone else?
There’s some validity to that logic
No one wants to suffer
But putting ourselves out there despite the risk
Is how we find each other
Besides holding back doesn’t hurt the one
Who caused you so much pain
In the end you only hurt yourself
By not giving your heart to gain
You see every time you survive a heartbreak
Then get back in the saddle
You’re secretly becoming more like God
Whose Love will never lose a battle
Didn’t you know that while God’s watching us
God’s heart is always breaking
But Love always comes in and fills the gaps
In the midst of our forsaking
Imagine if most of your children
Lie and say they love you
But take the gifts you have to them
And put those very things above you
You try to teach them to use them wisely
They push you away and will not listen
Only thinking of themselves as usual
They take what’s One and cause division
So you send them Love’s instructors
But they won’t listen to them either
Instead they ignore or murder them
Then label them deceiver
Or worse they pretend to worship them
In order to make them something special
And when they fail to live like them
They blame it on the Devil
Any excuse that they can think of
To do what they want to do
Their only goal is simply to feel they’re right
To justify ignoring you
Meanwhile your heart is breaking
You feel like you’ll die inside
But you surrender because you know the Truth
And instantly you’re more alive
It’s the Mystery of the Heartbreak
By giving your Love you will get more
For Love is the gift that you received
That by faith is always restored

Image by Jakob Rosen on Unsplash

To My Unborn Baby

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Before I ever met you
I knew I’d never forget you
I spend everyday of my life
Thinking of ways that I could protect you
That’s probably why you aren’t here yet
This world is nowhere near yet
I’m still trying to make it safe
So that you will never have to fear that
You could be abandoned
In this place that you have landed
I want to give you a better world
Than the one that I was handed
I never want to hurt you
That’s why I intend to nurture
All your hopes and dreams
Just so you can learn to
Be your own man
Or be your own woman
Just don’t let up on this world
Always keep it coming
Show them what you stand for
Tell them you demand more
Just in case I don’t finish
It is you that I made this plan for
This is just contingent
If I can’t do all that I mention
You will know that I was trying
And that I had the best intentions
But this world is full of doubters
Who have a tendency to cry louder
So yell at the top of your lungs
If they can’t see that you have power
This is also your planet
You should share, but don’t just hand it
Give as well as receive
So that you can achieve balance
Learn from my mistakes
So that you won’t have to make them
If you’re offered a lot of promises
Learn when and when not to take them
If you find yourself in error
Learn and keep on moving
Never pretend to be winning
For it is then that you are losing
Your friends are your reflection
They’re here for your protection
But they will become a part of you
So be wise in you connections
Remember that we are precious
People may get jealous
But they really just want to live like us
Although they may never tell us
So stay confident in what you’re doing
Live the dreams that you’re pursuing
And do them honestly
So you will never see them ruined
Well these are just some word from a Dad
That you may or may never have
Who before he ever met you
Saw you as the greatest gift he ever had

Photo by Mustafa Omar

Written before my children were born. But both of my daughters show in the world as if they read the poem before they got here.

Everything Breaks

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I am broken.
And finally, it all makes sense.
Everything breaks.
Everything breaks.
And all of the world’s suffering comes from the denial that
There is nothing in this world–
Seen or unseen–
That is going to remain unbroken.
Even our systems will break.
Our religions are breaking.
The Earth is breaking.
Rocks break.
Grains of sand break.
We break atoms and release cataclysmic levels of energy.
And we use that power to make bombs
That cause explosions that break everything within a certain radius.
And what the bombs don’t break in body, they break in spirit.
Because they are a reminder that everything breaks.
And there is nothing I can do to stop it.
There is nothing that any of us can do to stop it.
And it is driving us mad.

In our denial, we create broken systems, use weapons, and create endless entertainment–sometimes called “programming”–all meant to distract us from one of two truths that we all have in common–
If you choose to be born, you will be broken repeatedly by this life
Until you cannot break anymore.
And when you break for the last time, you may wonder
Where did the breaking world go?
Will the things I left behind just keep breaking until they are where I am?
Nowhere.
Now Here.
Nowhere else.
Yes, they will.
Everything you worked for or didn’t work for,
Everything you stole and everything you kept from others,
Everything you took credit for as if you were the fount of Creation,
It will break.
And it will no longer matter.
If it ever did.
And at some point, everyone who ever was will be completely broken.
And then the earth will break.
And then the Sun will break.
And then the solar system will break.
And then the galaxy.
And then the Universe.
And then whatever contains the Universe.
It all broke.
It dissolves.
It will all go away as if it had never been.
And all that will remain is the Love that fought the losing battle to prove that each of us is worth the effort even though we’re breaking.
Even though we are broken.
Love breaks but can’t be broken.
Is everywhere and nowhere.
Creates and destroys.
But can’t be created or destroyed.
Energizes but is not energized.
It is what it is before we are what we are.
And love will remain when we are no more.
Realizing this, let me love love while I can.
Let me live love while I am here.
Or better yet, let love live me.
So that even as I am breaking, love pours through.
I guess that was what he was teaching
When he said, “I am broken for you.”
I am broken and I am breaking.
When I accept it suffering ends.
And only Love remains.

© Copyright 2022 Pedro S. Silva II

You can also listen to this poem on Pedro’s Poetry Podcast.