What Artists Reveal

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

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

Listen Once and For All

Listen
Without words
To what can only be spoken
With Silence
There is no loss
There is no gain
In the Place where Love is Home
Like the top of the inhale
And the bottom of the exhale
Where in and out are One
And coming and going cease to be
There resides the thought
That tells you what you already know
You are more than enough
And worthy of all Creation
Here is where
In Silence you hear
The Voice of the voiceless
Noiselessly shouting
Everything I Am
Is Communicating
To Everything You Are
Telling You
Once and for All
We have Everything We need
When We have each Other

Learning How to Fly

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

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.

Higher Dimensions

Imagine a secret so powerful
To speak it would kill you
But if it’s kept to yourself
You will never know the real you
A boundless expression
That breaks right through your barrier
Exposing darkness to Light
There’s just nothing scarier
Total dissolution
Collapsing infinity
We’ve never known the half
Of all we were meant to be
Have you heard of Revelation?
Do you know what it’s revealing?
There’s no actual substance
To what we think we’re concealing
Entering Higher Dimensions
You accept what you’ve known
The rulers are the captives
Thus our choice to dethrone
At the right and the left hand
Is reflected half of the Center
Too far in either direction
And no one can enter
So we open the door
After shutting the others
Which causes a tension
For those under the covers
They ask for more sleep
So they think we’re alarming
By inviting awakening
To those they’re actively harming
But we do what we do
Because we can do nothing less
Than surrender to the Reality
We can’t help but confess

©️ Copyright 2023 Pedro Silva

I wrote this piece in honor of my friend Bishop Carlton Pearson who is holding a lot right now physically. If you are a praying person, I ask that you pray for his physical healing. If you are a person who finds joy in other people’s suffering because you feel that it somehow justifies your existence, please ignore us.

Surviving Heartbreak

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

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

A Cloak of Shadows

We all entered this given world
Shining ever so brightly
Until we were handed a cloak of shadows
And were taught to take our shining lightly
The shadow cloaks that we are given
Are all different, but the same
Put on by people who we’re born to trust
But started lying with our name
They called us a moniker we didn’t choose
That made them feel a certain way
Perhaps a projection of someone’s past
That we’re expected to display
Rather than get to know us
And discover who we are
They tell us who we’re supposed to be
And complain if we stray far
But it’s not that I’m trying to blame them
They did what they knew to do
Because before they projected onto us
They were cloaked in shadows too
They too were forced into a box
Aimed to maintain society
They believed the lies that were told to them
Before they ever lied to me
Some were told the lie that they were best
When compared to other people
While some were told that they are worst
And must forever work at achieving equal
But, both these states are lies
There’s no one above or below another
And the truth is there’s no shadow here
That another’s light cannot uncover
You see all of us were meant to shine
So that this world won’t be in dark
And each of us has the work to do
Of dissolving shadows with our spark
In so doing we don’t just free ourselves
We free all who came before
Until the world is filled with shining lights
Who wear shadow cloaks no more

Photo by Sunny Tank on scop.io