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?

Reactive or Creative

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?

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

For 28 Days

For 28 days
More people pay attention
To stories less told
Or that hardly get mentioned
Some get repeated
Just as before
About bridges and buses
And who’s here no more
For 28 days
We acknowledge the challenge
That healing can’t happen
If we ignore the damage
And for 28 days
We try to do better
By telling ourselves
That we’re in this together
But on the 29th day
Or on a leap year it’s thirty
Some forget once again
And stop getting hands dirty
Then for 337 days
Their memories fade
Until a tragedy happens
And we go into rage
Then we’re back to day one
Wondering how did this happen
Repeating the stories
We’re perpetually trapped in

Desparation

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

Miss You While You’re Here

Lately I’ve been thinking about
All the moments that we missed
When we’re younger we think we have plenty of time
And don’t think about stuff like this

We put so much off until later
But what if later never comes?
All tomorrows repeats of yesterdays
The future setting like the sun

I’m not ready yet to miss you
When I know that you’re right here
There’s so much I wanted to give you
Before my chances disappeared

Now it hurts that we talk almost everyday
And yet we never talk at all
Or that I battle with all these tempting thoughts
Not to answer when you call

Of course I want to be here for you
But it seems this is always where we’ve been
You telling me about how hard it is
While I listen on the other end

I look back and feel like a failure
I wish I could’ve spared you from some pain
But the best I can do is be a witness
And pray for something else to change

I still have hope that you’ll get better
That perfect love will cast out fear
But for now I’ll be grateful for what we have
Because I don’t want to miss you while you’re here
© Copyright 2020 Pedro S. Silva II

I wrote this poem as I started to think about how many conversations I have with my mom are about how to make it from month to month. We talk everyday. Sometimes multiple times a day. But rarely are our conversations about thing that I would like us to talk about. Because of all of the stress over the past few years, there has been a strain on the relationship. I’ll be honest and say that often I am acting like I am her parent rather than the other way around. I want her to be safe and make decisions for her well-being. I know how hard she tried to be whatever and whoever she felt she needed to be to make sure we survived growing up. That took a toll on her. And I know that she had huge dreams–most of which never got fulfilled. This is a wound in her heart.

She always told me that she wanted to leave my brothers and I with a legacy. What she meant was money. That hasn’t happened and it saddens her. She apologizes for not being in a better financial situation and asks me to believe in her that she can still pull it off. I want to believe, but… And now that I am witnessing her forgetting so much and yet still holding out hope for a miracle or for her “ship to come in” as she says, I feel a twinge of regret.  I ask myself, “If I knew we were going to end up here anyway, what would I have done differently?”

At first, I told myself I would’ve stayed in the military so that I would have my retirement right now and I could be working another job to provide for her. But then I look at my wife and kids and know that I had to take the course I did.  I then think that I should’ve chosen a more lucrative profession than being a pastor. But then, I was having a conversation with a guest at the church who is experiencing homelessness and watching members of the congregation–to include children–serving food and sitting with our homeless neighbors and I thought, “I am glad to be in this moment.” And then I thought, well maybe I was called to be a pastor for a season, but now that my mom needs me, I need to move on and do something else because my responsibilities demand it. And then I prayed and I felt the spirit moving me to be honest about how hard this is and to tell my friends. And so I did. And they stepped in and blessed my family and gave me room to breathe so I could figure out how to make the next best move for my mom. They showed me the truth of the teaching that says, “[God’s] strength is made perfect in our weakness.”

And so then in that space, I asked God what I could do differently for my mom. And in my soul’s language I heard, “Don’t miss her while she is still here. Because that’s what you’ve been doing. If you want to have different conversations with her, change the subject. Talk about the things that you wish you could talk to her about. If she misses it and repeats something else she just said, tell her you love her. Tell her your dreams and maybe she’ll get joy in knowing that she is a part of them. Have an unreasonable belief in miracles because you never know what might happen. And don’t forget, you are not in this alone.”

So if you are reading this, what my soul spoke into my life, I speak into yours. There are so many things in life that can distract us from the moments we are in–something to tempt us to forget that there is always the possibility of great beauty around the corner. In my weakness, I found strength in hitting my limits and reaching out. My hope is that in sharing what I am learning, it is blessing you all too.

With true love,

Pedro

A Friend In Need

They say a friend in need is a friend indeed
Or is it a friend in deed
Meaning a friend is one who acts as one
When another friend’s in need

Or maybe it’s the former one
We’re friends when we’re in want
But otherwise we give no others thought
Just to make it blunt

But perhaps it is more gray than that
Which makes it difficult to name
Because where self-sufficiency is idolized
To be in need is to be shamed

It’s really hard to put my finger on
As I examine my condition
When I’m aware enough to know I should ask for help
But won’t fully give myself permission

On one side, it’s because I don’t want help
I have learned so much from all my failing
But on the other side, I know that there’s sufficient grace
For those of us prone to self-assailing

Furthermore when I’m on the giving end
I always do what I can do
But when I’m on the receiving end
I do my best to just push through

But presently I am torn
This uphill battle seems unending
I could keep on trying to handle this
But in reality I’m pretending

I’ve always been good at holding burdens
But now my burdens are holding me
As I consider that I’m just a request away
From a space that feels more free

Well, if anything, there’s a lesson
These constraints I feel won’t last
And it matters little if I hear “yes” or “no”
Things will get better because I asked

© Copyright 2020 Pedro S. Silva II

I wrote this poem after wrestling with my thoughts about whether or not I should share a fundraiser I created for my mother to help ease some of the financial impact of her pending move.  This season has been really tender for me for a lot of reasons. Besides watching my mother succumb to the effects of a lifetime of stress and anxiety, trying to keep this pressure to myself has taken its toll on me and my family, both emotionally and financially. But it’s not all bad. This also has been a very creative season for me as I’ve tried to make sense of my own anxieties in light of my faith that when we are open, there is a solution to every concern. I’ve written poems that I never would’ve been able to write were I not translating, what at times felt like, overwhelming emotion. I completed a rap that I’m really proud of despite the fact that it has not yet brought in any of the money I’d naively thought it would. And in my social justice and community building work, knowing that I am personally impacted by so much of the challenges that we’re trying to ameliorate, has shaped my preaching and public speaking in a way that perhaps it would not if my family was more shielded. And finally, by putting this out here, I feel that it is on the path of healing the ill effects of the negative type of pride. And so here we are.

I Always Feel Like Crying

I always feel like crying
But it doesn’t mean I’m sad
It means I’m paying attention
To the issues that we have

In my soul I see a vision
Oneness is our Way
But in my body I feel division
As I watch morality decay

I have prayed and prayed for comfort
But it seems it’s nowhere near
Until I accept that I can’t save this world
And release my brokenness with tears

I wish that I was stronger
But my weakness keeps me humble
I would love to never make mistakes
But I was put on earth to stumble

I see heaven’s door wide open
I call on all I see to enter
But I’m afraid that if I go in first
I’ll forget what I remember

I know that’s backward logic
But they say the first’s the last
So when I came here from the future
It was to finish off my past

I hope that I’m not losing you
By speaking in ways that are not clear
I just had to get this off my chest
In case I’m drowned out by my tears

© Copyright 2020 Pedro S. Silva II

 

Waking Up to You

Waking up to You is the why of my life
You are the Dream that stops my dreaming
You tell the Story of what many fear to know
And give every Word its truest meaning

You call to me to my deepest Self
By the Name only You can give
Whispering in so loud a voice
That gives the dead the choice to Live

Many of us say we know You
But Love says that that’s not true
Whenever we say You dwell in us
But can’t see our neighbor inside of You

Or when we make the least important things
The sandy ground of our foundations
Forsaking the Rock upon which You’ve built for us
The most enduring of habitations

We’re distracted by the attraction
Of getting more by giving less
We measure others by the scale of our selfishness
Then give ourselves credit when we confess

But despite all of this You love us
And that never shall decrease
Even when we deny Your Presence
By not seeing you in our least

And that’s the refining fire
You love us everywhere we go
Even when we use Your Name to tell our lies
And act like You don’t know

You are definitely some kind of amazing
I hope my soul can reach your standard
I give up my story that keeps me up at night
To awaken to Yours that’s so much grander.

© Copyright 2020 Pedro S. Silva II

Live Facing the Sun (For Bob Murtha)

In the life of each and every one of us,
There are many worlds unseen.
Perhaps motivations no one knows about
Or the push to fulfill dreams

Some have nightmares no one speaks of,
That if we knew, we’d have compassion
When they show up in ways we can’t understand
Or do things that are out of fashion

Some of us came to this place
Knowing exactly what to do
While others love the mystery
Of trying to fathom what is true

Some are neither here nor there
And can’t seem to call this home
Even when in a crowded room
They can’t help but feel alone

But then there’s those who are here and there
In them all these worlds are One
Being led they also lead
Ever facing toward the Sun

They have found the pricey pearl
Through the gift of truly giving
Leaving all worlds better places
Through the Presence of their Living

© Copyright 2019 Pedro S. Silva II

I wrote this poem in honor of a church member, Bob Murtha, who embodied a spirit of quiet grace combined with strong presence. My life has taken to a lot of places I didn’t ever expect. But the places I appreciate more than anything are the hearts of people who I never could’ve conceived knowing. I am enriched by it and grateful that God’s idea of the human family is bigger than what I can imagine.