Humanity used and hurt me for it’s gain,
And when I cried out in pain,
It consumed my voice.
Fear and suspicion pervaded all the stars.
They claimed “theirs”, of what was ours,
And eclipsed the sun.
Now I pine in this interstellar darkness,
Writing on of my distress,
And though it may be useless,…
Send it into space.
K. Aldaya, 11/15/21
Picture: By Adrian Gaede on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/ddwLvLf-7ao
I remember when I was a child,
They used to go to schools and tell us.
That drugs are bad, and not to do them;
And now they push them upon us,
Like bullies on the playground.
I can remember when we were told,
“Don’t give in to social peer pressure”.
That you shouldn’t do something by force,
Unless you were completely sure,
It was your best choice to make.
I remember when Smokey the Bear,
Told us to prevent fires and care;
Now people on the media scream,
“Burn down the system everywhere!”,
As buildings burn on our screens.
I remember when celebrities,
Said bullies and suicide were bad,
And were meant to be fought out against.
Now locking people up’s the fad;
And silence lets it happen.
I remember when there were standards,
Of how to treat your fellow humans.
Now everyone believes that their fears,
Excuse them from basic demands,
Of their own humanity.
I remember when I was a child,
Even though I was not treated right,
I believed in human potential,…
For us to do what’s good and right…
Yet, now I’m not sure anymore.
Are you?
K. Aldaya, 7/26/21
Picture: By Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/IEVa-W0kojU
You look down on those who think differently than you,
And judge and criticize them for being themselves too.
You say to them, “You better love me as I am!”,
And then turn around and say, “You’re wrong, and a sham!”.
Never recognizing the sham as you.
Part of being accepted is being accepting,
Of what you may feel is formidable and upsetting.
You don’t have to agree with everything others do,
But if you truly want freedom, you must grant it too;
For respect’s propagated by respecting.
You may tell me the sob story all humans have to tell.
You may tell me how you feel, and I will feel for you as well,
But don’t condemn me for not dying for you on your cross.
I’m not a God on earth, and have to carry my own cross,…
Along with my personal, all-consuming hell.
All pains are not equal, and life’s a tragedy.
So, why are we infighting? And why can’t we agree?
That life’s far too short, too difficult, and too cold,
To bicker endlessly as our bodies grow old.
You are not a social category.
I am you, and you are me…
The heart of humanity.
K. Aldaya, 6/10/21
Picture: By Yaniv Knobel on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/UvkIx6DMTMk
“Do you plead guilty for being skin-white?”,
The judge asked, pointing his gavel at me.
“We must rid the world of the hateful sight,
Of privilege and self-superiority”.
I pled, “I’m not guilty, your honor!”,
To the resounding of gasps, oohs, and ahhs.
“I’m not guilty any less…any more,
Nor have I broken any just moral laws.
I reject your claim that I’m a color.
I am human. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Of the same shade as our first ancestors.
Color only matters when used to oppress.
We are of the same fam’ly and species,
Though our troubled history is quite clear.
Evil has been done to everybody,
For we’re all susceptible to manipulation and fear.
Color and anything that’s “different”,
Is used to attain power and control.
Forging divides where they once were absent.
Oppressing far too many a human soul.
So I can not be guilty, your honor,
For I refuse to accept division.
My privilege is merely in living, sir.
I do not acknowledge this court’s position!”
“Sentence her!”…”Guilty!”, the court erupted;
As, “Order! Order!”, the judge shouted out.
“I see this trial has long been corrupted.”
“Not guilty”, the judge firmly declared. “Out! Out!”
And as I strode outside into the sun,
Someone in the crowd yelled, “Racist!”, and *BANG*
Another human oppressed by oppression.
And in the end: What is won? What is won?
As the lynched and I sang, yes, sang to the grave,
The power-mad laud that finally…
“Justice has been done!”
K. Aldaya, 4/28/21
Picture 1: By Volkan Olmez on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/wESKMSgZJDo
Picture 2: By Kamil Feczko on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/fd3BpI6NcMU
I long to write, though who will listen,
To the rantings of the insane?
The title merely grants invisibility;
And a face without a name,
In the coliseum of civility.
I wander through the crowds,
In the stands, where spectators watch,
As warriors and politicians,
Earn another scar or notch,
In the holding of their positions.
I stretch my hands out for scraps,
As they shoo me out of sight;
Though from here I see it all,
And know that none of this is right…
And soon all of us will fall.
Be it by starvation, wound, or pride.
We are all part of the show.
I may seem but a distraction,
Yet I’ve gone where others can not go;
And seen every angle of inaction.
For they play their parts quite well,
And the world moves to their plans.
I’ve seen every move and collapse,
As money changes hands,
And they fall in the same traps.
From the outside, I look in,
Year after year…Sin after sin.
I hold my voice, and hold my breath.
No one’s listening, so who can win?
We stand aside until death.
I look at you. Do you see me?
Are you looking? What do you see?
God’s play games, as day absconds.
Are you a God, or are you me?
Do you play games with human pawns?
For who can win an endless game?
And who can fight our mortal fate?
Though, in my eyes you’d find the sun,
So listen well, it’s getting late.
This entertainment is not fun!
And this game you can not win!
The only money, worth it, to spend,
Is found in the outstretched hand.
For the show continues long after curtain descends…
And only in the heart of another could you understand,…
All we have is each other in the end.
K. Aldaya, 10/7/20
Picture: By: Jorge Fernandez Salas on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/hvxJ2cnecd4
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 