526. Coliseum

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

490. The Zoo

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Monkey swing across the bars.

Monkey see. Monkey do.

You are but one tiny speck,

Inside a cosmic zoo.

Play the part and socialize.

Be the best you can be;

As long as you don’t mope ’bout,

Or wish that you were free.

Entertain. Live and fit-in.

Walk in rounds ’til you’re sick.

Don’t wonder ’bout breaking out.

Fighting instinct’s tragic!

Monkey swing across the bars.

Monkey blind. Monkey sad.

If you’re mere biology,

Existing should make you glad.

Monkey swing…

…Monkey fall.

K. Aldaya, 9/11/19

Picture: By: Chris Yang on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/4CZ4lZGX53g

334. Night Dreams

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The foggy night is cool and glistens,

With the rains of yesterday,

And I find myself saddened again,

By the loneliness of it’s gray.

Yet, I know this is my hour of choice.

The peaceful and tranquil hour,

When most humans are found fast asleep,

And I feel most safe within my tower…

To look out into the universe,

And wish upon a star or moon,

For their beauty to become an eternal song,

So I may forever hum out their tune.

I long to stay and sing out,

Into the silence of eternity;

Though it makes me sad to be alone,

It’s far better with no company.

The stars will hear and twinkle bright,

And the moon will brightly beam.

No matter how dark and lonely the night,

It still can feel like a dream.

I’ve yet to meet one human being,

Who cares to hear my song or voice;

Instead my voice is ripped from me,

And the soul is left no choice…

It runs away and hides behind,

Cordialities and facades.

The body lingers devoid of life,

At the edge of gambled-odds.

There is no dream unbroken by,

The realities of humankind.

Will we ever be safe in each other’s arms,

Or truly understand another’s mind?

Until that day or maybe never,

I will hope and dream at night.

Alone I will sing to the distant moon,

And when tears fall they’ll express the flight,

Of my soul into the skies.

K. Aldaya, 2/25/16

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.playbuzz.com/shira10/22-unbelievable-facts-about-the-human-body-that-will-blow-your-mind

324. Tragedy Incarnate

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I am the ghost of who I used to be,

Who is haunting this world now, for eternity.

I’ve lived a million lifetimes. I feel it in my bones;

The aching of sore fingers spent manuscripting tomes.

Stories of humanity… of tragedies and victories;

Of poverty and destruction. Wealth and vanities.

Will the story ever end? And what will be it’s ending?

I’m tired of thinking and repeating. My soul needs time for mending.

You and I, we are the story of the universe.

We’ve written it out, in our blood accursed.

Will time end and its’ confines of aching bone and skin.

Prisoners: most ignorant of the cage we continue to live in?

We all write on…another chapter for the universe to read;

So it can expand endlessly, while we (mere) mortals just bleed.

Bleed planets, and bleed the stars…Our souls are etched with the scars,

Of the universes’ beauty;

Written on each gravestone, and carved from fleshly duty.

K. Aldaya, 12/16/15

Picture: By Michael Lloyd ; http://www.lightstalking.com/the-shark-tank-and-what-you-missed-this-week-on-light-stalking/