390. Heaven

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Let us meet upon the spectral plains of Elysium,

Where all are equal in the eyes of the sun,

As we rest our heads to dream forever,

Of what could never be on Earth;

And of ties which could not sever,

Us, from our birth.

Rest your head upon my shoulder and dream of yesterdays,

As the labors of blood and flesh fade away.

Here you’re my brother, my sister, my kin.

Our fates are eternally bound.

Beyond prejudice, fear, and sin,

Heaven is found.

K. Aldaya, 3/22/17

Picture: Uploaded by Kipketera on 7-themes.com; http://7-themes.com/6998738-fantasy-grass-field.html

389. The Web

Each word read,

A simple thought,

Yet when one meets another;

A web forms of connected thoughts,

And abstract intricacies.

The web spreads,

To snatch and learn;

To glean each captured phrase.

Read, listen; Ever more yearn,

For universal truth.

Each architect,

Grasps and weaves,

As the scope ever increases.

The more learned, the more one grieves,

The endlessness of thought.

The web purveys,

And never ends;

As learning leads to wisdom;

And learning never ends,

So humans become victims.

Frantically.

Passionately.

Brains weave and contemplate,

Truths too vast in scope to be,

Contained in human bone.

Each word read,

A simple thought,

Yet when one joins another.

A web forms of connected thoughts,

And “Insanity’s” it’s name.

K. Aldaya, 3/15/17

Picture: Tomás Saraceno, Galaxy Forming along Filaments, like Droplets along the Strands of a Spider’s Web, at the Venice Biennial, 2009; http://theredlist.com/wiki-2-351-382-1160-1166-view-argentina-profile-saraceno-tomas.html

388. Broken Vessel

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I had no right to refuse you,

For I had no rights at all.

You locked me within your eyes,

And from then on I was all…

You could see.

You gazed at me with doting eyes,

While you bled your victims dry.

You didn’t plan to kill me too,

And I didn’t want to die…

Just like them.

You stared into my eyes so deep.

You invaded my brain.

I became your loving home,

And you drove me insane…

With your thoughts.

Pleasure and pain you intermix.

As you love, so do you cry.

You drown me in your tears and rage,

While I lie still and try…

To go home.

Yet there’s no home to go back to,

Nor any door you cannot access.

You and I, we share this home,

And trying to escape: a hopeless…

Endeavor.

You walk these halls eternally,

And you, my fate, have judged.

The walls are made of bitter tears,

And each bloody lash is smudged…

Into bars.

I have no right to hate you,

For I have no rights at all.

You stole far down into my soul,

And from then on you were all…

That I am.

The criminal and the victim.

The loved and the lost.

The guilty and the innocent.

The vessel which you tossed…

To the side…

…broken.

K. Aldaya, 3/10/17

Picture: By: Catalin Pop on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/DL09PT4RDwA

387. Lullaby of the Lost

Where do the dead go and who can follow?

Will you go to where they lie?

Will you search the darkest hollow,

To find the truth before we die?

Where do the lost go and who will find them?

Does anyone care they’re gone?

Who will pull-out each thorny rose stem,

Upon their heads when they are gone?

Where do our thoughts go and who will remember,

The sufferings of this mortal coil?

The fires of life shed each ember,

Of we who soon become it’s soil.

Where do the cursed go and who will love them,

When they’ve become all we fear?

Who will care to find and hold them?

Who will mourn or shed a tear?

Where do the dead go and who can follow?

Will you go to where they lie?

Will you search the darkest hollow,

To save the lost before they die?

K. Aldaya, 3/1/17

Picture: by: Branimir Jaredic; http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/1-branimir-jaredic.html?tab=artwork; http://www.magazineim.com/home/index.php/collaborators/branimir-jaredic/#7

386. Sandstorm

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Sands drift around…

Up in the air,

Then back to the ground.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

The wind is your friend…

Pushing you on,

But when does it end?

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Sand’s in my lungs.

It’s hard to breathe,

And you’ve just begun.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Grains full of rage.

Can we start over?

Write a new page?

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

I’ll suffocate!

Hours have passed,

And it’s getting late.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Words propagate.

We can’t start over;

It is too late.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Reach to the door…

Slam it behind you;

That’s what they’re for.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Left in your dust.

Please don’t come back,

I’m starting to rust.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Leave me alone.

My skin is cracking.

I’m turning to bone.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

Dusts float your way.

I’m lost in your words.

I’m fading away.

Sandstorm. Sandstorm.

You move away.

Yet now I am dust.

And dust drifts away.

K. Aldaya, 2/22/17

Picture: “Sandhouse Sienna Room” by Cary Wolinsky; http://www.carywolinskyphotographs.com/sandhouse-series#/sandhouse-blue-1-2-1/; https://limeduck.com/feast-for-the-eyes/