373. Weeping Willow

Weeping Willow

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you hate the daylight so?

Why do you cry to the sun and hang your head so low?

Do you want us all to feel the same way that you do?

Are you angry with the sun, which dries, then feeds you too?

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you love the darkness so?

Why do you wave and smile at the moon; and let your beauty show?

Do you love the dark because it hides your bitterness?

Does the night conceal your tears within it’s tranquil darkness?

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you exist to feel this way?

Why must you live to suffer so?

Why does it have to be this way?

Do you know where we all go when we turn to dust?

Weeping Willow won’t you cry for me too, when you meet my drifting dust?

K. Aldaya, 10/12/16

Picture: http://indulgy.com/post/cbtCpMSUW1/theclouser; http://indulgy.com/ana–bella/myperfect

370. Reality

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No matter what I do. Nothing ever changes.

The world changes around me,

While I while away the hours;

And my life becomes a memory,

Of some graveyard in the country.

No matter what choices I make.  I am here.

I cannot change how I feel.

What experience has taught me.

My version of what is real…

If real means anything at all.

No matter what I try to change.  It is.

I cannot save anyone.

We all live, die, and are forgotten.

Does fate exist and pull everyone…

Into that field of gravestones connecting reality?

K. Aldaya, 9/24/16

Picture: Cabot Village Cemetery, Vermont; http://www.cabothistory.com/cabot-s-seven-cemeteries

367. Savage

barefoot-running-girl

I am a savage.

I remember my days in the jungle.

The feel of mud ‘tween my toes.

The rush of adrenaline,

From head to toe.

Blood raging to win.

I am a savage.

I remember my nights under the moon.

The feel of winds blowing over,

The heavy lids of the earth,

Falling to cover.

In death is rebirth.

I am a savage.

I remember my days on the Earth.

The feel of dust and thirst.

The yearning to drink and feast.

Devoured or nursed.

Nothing but a beast.

K. Aldaya, 9/18/16

Picture: Original Source Unknown; http://sscinnovate.blogspot.com/2013/06/review-barefoot-minimalist-and-forefoot.html

365. Blood

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“Blood is thicker than water”, how I truly hate this line!

How I loathe when others use it (usually absent of mind).

How carelessly it makes claim of the specialness of some,

When any fool knows that we all originally came from one.

How no matter where you live now or the color of your skin,

We are all from the same parents. We are all simply: human.

If only we could look beyond the years which separate us,

And see that we all bleed the same…with no waters to divide us.

Our minds have become barriers to block us from this truth.

To make us feel all alone, in this vast ocean: aloof.

I wish we could stop saying: “Black, white, yellow, or red”,

And look upon anothers’ face to see only sister or brother instead;

But rather, humans build their walls to conquer and divide.

To place themselves upon thrones, and wage war on the other side.

Anything to exploit men’s fear of what’s unknown or different.

“Oh, a sharp nose knows the enemy’s nose is an inch left-bent!”

How ridiculous it all is…this endless self-destructive game!

Humanity, will we ever learn our lesson and find a more rewarding aim?

I pray that time does teach us things that we will not repeat.

That lessons learned will one day stick and each heart will beat,

To the drums of a unified dance of love and acceptance;

Where the drums of war no longer beat this sad and tragic dance.

Humans do not bleed water and they never have or will.

Humans they are all our family and they bleed the same blood still;

The blood that your ancestors bled upon the battlefields…

The blood which spilt to give you life, from the womb your mother wields.

From the fathers of your father, and the mothers of your mother.

You may argue all you want, but truth one cannot smother!

So this I say to human beings with ears in which to hear.

Never speak of thicker blood or be selective of ear.

Love and grant the kindness which you would like to receive.

It’s not that hard to be understanding, listen, and to believe…

In seeing the best in others, and never prejudging a face.

Oh God, if we could only stop focusing on differences in religions and race!

Put down your weapons children! Mother is weeping in her grave,

And father’s bloody hands clench the soil for each child no one would save!

“We all bleed the same blood”, how many times has this been said?

How many more times must we repeat the truth, before we are all dead?…

And time passes and forgets us, the children of the Earth;

The species which destroyed itself and spit upon its’ birth!

K. Aldaya, 9/5/16

Picture: “Harvest of Death,” the Battle of Gettysburg, 1863, from Gardner’s Photographic Sketch Book of the War; http://blog.chicagohistory.org/index.php/2009/03/gettysburg/

360. Who Will Weep for the Dead?

Screaming2

Who will mourn for the lost,

And who will weep for the dead,

When the tides of sinful lust,

Awash each virgin-bed?

Blood is spilt upon the earth.

Oh, the horrors of man’s greed!

Which never takes responsibility,

For it’s every bitter deed.

Scream in terror children!

The dead shall not be grieved!

Only the victims bare the pain,

Of the sins they have received.

Their cries echo in vain,

As the dead will not be heard.

It only drives them more insane,

With every closeted-word.

And who will mourn for the lost?

Who will weep for the dead?

For rather then listening to the truth,

Men grieve for their ears instead.

K. Aldaya, 7/7/16

Picture: http://www.survivingmold.com/news/2014/12/cirs-the-genetics/; http://www.survivingmold.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2034/11/Screaming2.jpg