289. The Nameless Speech

The man said to the boy one day.

“How is it you can’t see?

That holding onto the past and its’ pain,

Is not the way to be?”

The boy looked to the gentleman,

And softly he replied.

“Does energy die when it’s changed?

And does its’ spark subside?”

“Well no, replied the gentleman.

You speak to the facts in this case;

Yet how does this concern my assertion?

Your query seems out of place.”

The boy retorted with a smile,

“All things once set in motion.

They cannot be taken back;

So I reject your notion!

When evil deeds are done,

(And yes, good deeds as well),

That energy must go somewhere;

In someones mind it must dwell.

Pain spreads out more pain.

And love spreads out more love.

So when pain fills up my head,

Don’t ask me to ‘feel’ love.

The pain, it is now mine.

I know you may not understand,

And I’ll not burden you with it;

For I won’t be the devils’ hand.

I know more then most,

How important kindness is.

The universe is in a battle,

And I know which my side is!

Don’t ask me to forget the pain,

For the pain is part of me.

It made me who I am today.

It lives inside of me.

One day if I live in love,

And I try to spread some good;

Maybe someday it’ll return to me…

Maybe bad will be conquered by good.

There is no way of knowing,

If time will be kind to me;

But time, it stops for no one…

Even those pained as me.

So my point, my good sir,

And what everyone should know,

Is once pain is spread…

Pain it will sow.

Every evil deed that’s done,

It has a price to be paid.

So always try to care and love,

Don’t let the worlds’ hope fade.”

The gentleman stared at the boy,

And nothing was replied,

As he grabbed the child into his arms,

And held him while he cried.

-The universe, it is not fair, and all things have a cost.

For a battle’s always waging,

Yet the war is never lost.

Until the end of human life,

The fight’s not fully won,

And the casualties should remind us all,

Of the cost of each deed done.

K. Aldaya, 3/18/15

Picture: “Just a Little Boy” by zznzz on Deviant Art; http://zznzz.deviantart.com/art/just-a-little-boy-272998865

282. The Tree

Growing. Advancing its’ roots.

The tree always blossoms with time,

And in time it must feed its’ roots;

With sunshine.

Inside the flesh it has grown.

Now out of flesh it must rise,

And break through the skin and bone;

To survive.

Boring its’ way through the cheek.

Blood oozes and creeps down its’ bark.

Will the world be ready for this freak;

And fathom?

Gasps and screams sing-out as it grows.

“Oh, how horrid the truth! How bizarre!”

“This black-tree only spreads and sows;

Its’ evil!”

“Cut it down! Cut it down! The devil needs no light!”

“Let it live in the darkness it exposes!”

Too obscene to look at, and offensive a blight;

To accept.

Growing. It always keeps growing alone.

Cut back and cut down,….it remains.

For evil once lived finds a life of its’ own;

And spreads.

Could the light have allowed the tree,

To blossom into something of worth?

Is there beauty in the horror in thee;

In season?

The tree through each season lives on,

And under the skin it still thrives.

‘Til one day all its’ roots will be gone;

In soul-death.

For self-destruction’s humanities’ legacy,

To the children who refuse to accept,

They should hide the sins of the world and agree:..

“There’s no tree”.

K. Aldaya, 12/4/14

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://dark.pozadia.org/wallpaper/Evil-Tree-Lord-Awakening/

272. Societal Denial

“I want to live”, I said,

To the stranger beside me.

“So, we can go together”, she said.

I nodded, to agree.

“Yes, here we are already dead”.

We drove until the cops appeared;

In many places eyeing us.

We knew when they appeared,

They were onto us;

So I quickly down-geared.

The only way is past this place,

To the other side it goes.

Through the rooms of this place.

Can we escape? Who knows?

But there’s no choice. We race!

We ducked into an empty room,

With a small window at the end.

Hanging there—feelings of gloom,

In forms of guns to portend,

Would soon lead us to our doom.

We continued on and finally found,

The room of our escape.

We ran and I jumped out and found,

Myself alone in the escape.

My friend could not be found.

It was too late to turn back.

I had to make a break for it.

A cop was there and would attack.

Ran,…but with no hope soon quit,

To protect from the coming smack.

Curled on the ground I waited,

Shaking for fear of humankind.

A sentence won’t be abated,

For reasons held in my mind.

I knew, if caught, I would be hated.

I would be hurt for leaving;

For trying to live and escape fate.

I knew I would be receiving,

More abuse for running from fate.

I waited in dust for the grieving.

When there again, I saw my friend,

And she walked up to me, and I….

I stood and she stepped-in to lend,

Her anger, and voice, to try,….

To get the cop to comprehend.

“You do not understand”, I yelled.

“I have to get away from here”.

“If I am to live just once”, I yelled,

“I have to fight against my fear”.

“Hiding is its’ own hell!”

“Hiding from the truths that are,

Has kept me safe for awhile,

But one can’t hide: not close or far,

From the life-long mile;

Without a life-long scar.”

The cop listened and then of course,

He did his duty and tackled me.

My hands cuffed behind with force.

I’d found more misery,

By running off the course.

The course, for me, the world set.

And there are rules in this place,

Which one cannot change or forget;

Or be labelled ‘criminal’ or ‘basket-case’,

With a lifetime of shame and regret.

But the cops are just doing their work,

And the masses just shuffling along;

And the lost longingly lurk,

In the shadows just drifting along.

No salvation. Always the jerk.

Plaguing the system with a wailing, sad-song.

Cop: “If you had just stayed hidden,

We could have all gotten along.”

K. Aldaya 6/9/14

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://dark.pozadia.org/images/wallpapers/34-Gothic-1280×1024-81205.jpeg

89. A Beautiful Truth Unlived

So many beautiful things,

That we take for granted.

All existence brings,

A Godly truth unsaid.

So why can’t we enjoy?

Have to fight to survive?

And everyday destroy,

The goodness of ‘alive’?

K. Aldaya, 10/24/04

Picture: “Rainbows In The Sky” by epinephrine-eyes on Deviant Art; http://epinephrine-eyes.deviantart.com/art/Rainbows-In-The-Sky-51518990

73. Poetic Truth?

Some think they know the poet well,

Who speaks with rhythm, rhymed,

And loudly with a thing to tell,

Cascades the open mind;

Of every soul upon which it fell.

Are words the voices held inside?

Found in each souls’ expanse?

Which are sent outward to guide,

All to know the soul at glance?

For won’t, within, the truth e’er hide?

K. Aldaya, 9/8/04