Knowing

We can see an image and feel

knowing that a sharp edge will indeed draw blood,

that care must be taken

and we have learned this from somewhere

someplace in our lives.

Like fire, we know that if we get too close

we shall be burnt,

we will blister and peel

as someone taught us this too.

Why then when we see injustice

do we turn a blind eye, seeing the pain

and the fear

and realizing like seeing a malnourished pup

we want to hold accountable the soul

who had no soul,

who was able to do this so easily

as if it didn’t matter,

humanity sits before us

and we watch with glassy eyes the images

feeling bad yet doing nothing

perhaps thinking we won’t matter

why bother

why try.

We light our candles

we say our prayers

but until we reach out in faith and hope

that some day we will wake up to a better place

because it was us who did something

anything

besides lip service

and turning the channel so as not to bear witness

thinking what we don’t see

does not exist,

we must have the courage to speak

we must take that step beyond the comfort

we must do it now.

 

I don’t get involved in politics, just ain’t my cup of tea as far as the election goes and I know a lot of people are quite spirited in their opinions, I just chose to be silent on that end. Yesterday I got a pretty huge flyer in the mail, little various pink woman shaped cookie cutter forms on the back, although I had to unfold it to see what it was about, quite happy that breast cancer awareness must have been responsible, yet in each cutout were words. Now it pissed me off, the first one said “Young and beautiful Piece of Ass”….then “fat pigs”, etc…now normally I would just throw it out and be done with it but I was thinking back as a young kid I was always excited to go get the mail, and I wonder if I were a seven-year old who knew how to read, and ran in to show it to mom, reading the words out loud, I would have gotten smacked for sure. What in the name of all that’s good gets into people’s minds…who would mail this? Now politics on tv, I can easily choose not to watch, but when it arrives in the US postal mail, now that made me angry. It’s a cute document, until you read it. Now tell me, if your child brought this in and read it to you, what would you think? Perhaps it’s just me, and it’s nothing I would normally share but it still makes me angry. Yes, the person who “said it” has his own opinions, yet do I really need to get this in my mailbox? Go door to door if you must and hand it to an adult. Really, I often wonder where these peoples heads are at….and you wonder why I dislike politics. Case in point. Now I have to start screening my mail? Perhaps make it smaller and not the size of my mailbox…or better yet…save the postage and don’t send it at all. Rant over, thanks for letting me roll this. Last politic post EVER, I promise 🙂

Peace and balance, K

Into The maelstrom

Tossed and turned about
ship unanchored moving in
to the wind whipped depths
returning to the open sea
lost for a moment in an eternity,
anger claims hold in white washed waves
as sleep elludes the restless soul
anger,
darkness clashing forces
something so simple
turned into another deep dive
in to the bottomless emptiness
and you can throw the vest, the ring,
the device that cannot save-
for there is only one way to rise above
this maelstrom
and that is to go deep within
to explore that which lays claim
like the handful of ships before
sunk and without notice
destination unknown,
pieces of history barely remembered
yet for the wire tongued whip
trying to keep it in line
and the feckless student
wise beyond his time
turning disdain to the Motherland
better to run aground
learning how to survive
than clinging to a sinking ship
whose day has come to run aground
to become but a fading memory
of yesterday and the storm
that launched the ideas
of a place of blue seas
free.

Gorgeous image of Venice FL by : Kristen Gunn

Enter lightly

Thoughts move snail-like
Across the parched fields
Shimmering particles flow
Blows the wild wind
Invisible.
Sinking in the depths
Of mornings unexpected dose
The reality of life
Shifting into quicksand seconds
Lost in the depths
Clawing for release.
Where is the rope left carelessly behind
The fibers twined tight
Anchoring the weight
Of the silent scream
Below the surface
No relief.
Eyes close in submission
Aching for a moment’s peace
A plea to the stars forgotten
Too busy cleaning cosmic dust
In buckets of sand lost
From the hourglass broken
Standing still again
Unmarked passing
Of a mirage of normalcy.

Just one of those days…….