It’s My Cross Too

I want to be of service
To pour out who I am
Without the thoughts being accepted
Or that people will understand

I don’t want to shift based on opinion
Just to move when I’m in Truth
And be willing to fail if that’s what’s real
And need no signs or proof

I want to follow Jesus
Even if it takes me to the Cross
Because I know he stands in the Light of Love
Where in Truth there is no loss

I no longer want to deny Him
Just because he cannot be explained
You see he’s bigger than religion
With a love that’s not contained.

I want to live his revelation
That all of us are One
The truth he lives and dies for
Until every lie’s undone.

© Copyright 2016 Pedro S. Silva II

Twisted

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

 

 

Prodigal Planet

I had a realization on the other side of light,
I see the darkness that we are when we give into our fright.
Don’t want to lose. Get ahead of the game.
Borrow from the future? Can’t we see we’re insane?
Spend what we don’t have. Take from tomorrow.
Where’d it all go? Now we wallow in our sorrow.
How did we get here from where we began?
Did God see this coming when devising the “Plan”?
Free will prisons that we make on our own,
Built on illusions that we can ever be disowned.
Guilt is our garment. Robed in despair.
We reap what we sow and say, “God doesn’t care.”
Wanting to be masters we make a world built for slaves.
We try hard to live forever while we’re digging our own graves.
Now at the bottom, we want to go back,
To the place where we came from–before we knew lack.
But “Do we deserve it?” is the question on our mind.
We’ve lost ourselves in a place that no one else can find.
Can we ever go home? We decide we will try.
Anything’s better than staying here to die.
On the way home, our head down in shame.
We are brought back to life at the sound of our Name.
Instantly restored as if nothing ever happened.
Suddenly we see the true value of the world and its trappings
We always had it all when we remained with Our Source
A single thought of separation and a whole planet’s off course.

© Copyright 2016 Pedro S. Silva II

Who’s Your Marisa Tomei?

Who’s the best supporting actor
In the comedy that’s your life?
Cool to play the background
But steps up in times of strife?

Funny when they need to be?
Serious as your mother?
Surprising in their dimensions,
But somehow keeps it undercover?

Out the box beautiful
Even if they keep it plain?
Can take it to the next level
Without the slightest sign of strain?

Knows how to keep it humble
Even when everybody’s staring?
Knows how to take it all in
But non-attached when they are caring?

Intimately woven
In the fabric of your existence?
Tells you what they think
With a passive non-resistance?

Who is your Marisa Tomei–
The one who reads between your lines?
The best friend when you need one
Who walks away when it is time?

© Copyright 2016 Pedro S. Silva II

I know this poem might seem random, but it isn’t as random as it seems. If you want to know what inspired me to write this and name it after Marisa Tomei, you can check out this post on The Roofless Church.

Infinite Abundance

It’s all right here
Meaning everything’s here
Nothing in creation
That is far from the near

Seen and the unseen
Everything is one
See the other side of outside
As where the inside’s begun

Winners can’t lose
When the whole game is fixed
For the house to go bust
When you cash in your chips

Give all you have
And watch it all come back
10,000 fold
In this world with no lack

There is no nothing
In the fullness of what is
Absence full of presence
Positively relative

The Up Side of Down

I am done with my pretending
That One can ever be a two
Two is just a false multiplicity
Of all that isn’t true

We claim a world based on division
Of what can never be divided
We think that we can take the All that’s One
And make it double-sided

But the distance never happened
Not even in our dreams
Oneness yielding separation
Infinity bursting at the seams

I can see it all so clearly
I can feel it in my bones
I am still “In the Beginning”
And I’ve never been alone

We is a singularity
Plurality is just a method of expression
The All that’s One seen in many ways
Casting infinite reflections

That’s the Up side of Down
They are One and they’re the same
Like life and death and all that’s left
Are simply links in a single chain

Move a link and see what happens
You move one and you move them all
And so it is in every realm
Rising as we fall

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

Led Into Temptation

When I feel led into temptation

I know it’s not from You

It’s because I’m looking at other things

That are telling me what to do

Thank You that I’m not listening

But I must admit that it’s a challenge

I’m trying to stand on what You said

But it’s hard to keep my balance

I know serving You is a narrow path

That comes with all I need included

But when I begin to look at the outer world

I start wondering if I’m deluded

Sure You always have provided

Showed me things few would believe

But maybe it’s all coincidence

And I have actually been deceived

That’s what I start to tell myself

Whenever I want to take control

Strung along by my desires

Fantasies trying to take their hold

I’m now wrestling with the Cosmos

Corporeality’s got me pinned

I’m on the verge of tapping out

And that’s just when You tap in

The Work You do’s amazing

You’re literally all over the Place

Making One out of many breaks

Through the bending of time and space

Things that seemed to be for evil

All of a sudden becoming good

Doing things I never thought You’d do

But I imagine You knew You would

Or maybe you did it for me

In response to my condition

You saw the mess I was headed toward

So You made my life Your mission

Either way I can say You’ve saved me

Time and time again

Absorbing my temptation

Thereby leading me from sin

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

 

This Is Not a Poem

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

 

Sadness v. Anger

When faced with sadness v. anger

I find it very hard to choose

Because no matter who I side with

It seems someone has to lose

If I decide to go with sadness

It’s like a path to self destruction

Bottling up what is going on

Which begins to effect the way I function

With a less than upbeat countenance

People soon begin to notice

A thousand thoughts going through my mind

Making it a challenge to keep my focus

Soon acquaintances are always checking in

Trying to see if I’m okay

But before I explain what’s on my mind

Their minds begin turning the other way

Which only makes me sadder

I should’ve kept my problems to myself

Few people want to see the pain they hide

Reflected in the face of someone else

“Aren’t we all supposed to be happy

All the blanking time”

A thought that’s so unsettling

That I start to cross the anger line

But here’s the thing about our anger

On the surface it feels so freeing

But spending too much time with it

Can make you a different human being

See with sadness we feel like we should improve

It leads to the gate of our frustration

Where with anger it only feeds itself

On the fuel of justification

We feel it’s a right to have some anger

To feel it is not unique

Some would even say that it’s in vogue

Competing with stress for what’s more chic

Anger gets you some respect

Which in a way can be addicting

Unlike sadness which often comes with shame

Or guilt which is itself restricting

Anger seems to have your back

While sadness only takes you down

You can have an honest laugh with anger

But sadness is better expressed with frowns

People will support you in your anger

With sadness they push away the feeling

We can take our anger to increasing levels

But sadness has to have a ceiling

Maybe it’s because anger’s more entertaining

It makes for a better story

The angry teams walks away with gold

The sad team looking worse outside their glory

We even can accept an angry god

Before we can accept a god who’s sad

Even when meeting God whose name is Love

We anticipate god, the abusive dad

For a loving God knows sadness

This is also the God who cries

But a God who suffers is a God we resist

For this is a God to Whom we’re obliged

For if God suffers we’re never alone

If God endures we’re not in danger

For a God who relates to how we feel

Takes away the righteousness of our anger

We see our pain in context

Through the rending of this veil

We see that when we choose to separate

We are the authors of our own betrayal

Because as long as we are angry

We can’t choose reconciliation

The only way back to our more whole selves

Restored from humiliation

You see healing requires sadness

Even if anger’s our first decision

Because sadness means our heart still has some hope

And has not surrendered to division

Now accepting this isn’t easy

Anger is truly a sweet temptation

But in the end it proves a hopeless endeavor

That only persists in separation

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

 

Our Guardian Whose Art Is Heaven

Our Guardian Who art in Heaven

And on every other plane

Thanks for calling us into being

And holding us in Your Name

We seek to find your Kingdom

We live for it to come

A world beyond division

Where all are known as One

A place of infinite creation

Where all that’s good will last

Our future and our hope

Without the burdens of the past

Thy will for us is done

By Your Heaven born Design

As soon as we surrender

And walk the narrow line

By Your Word You feed us daily

With everything we need

Satisfying Holy hungers

That this world could never feed

You share the joy of Your forgiveness

By instructing we do it too

Forgiving others when they trespass

For they know not what they do

This frees us from temptation

From error we’re delivered

We enter into the Kingdom

When we imitate the Giver

In that State we behold Your Glory

And Your unassuming Power

That’s been our Light in a world of darkness

Preparing us for our hour

You’ve been creating us in Your Image

Though invisible it may be

Teaching us to practice the Art of Heaven

That only opened eyes can see

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II