Dedicated to victims of gun-violence and terrorism
12.15 – Christmas Mourning
Today will be a sad day. An ominous morning-after begins with raindrops against a rising sun; divine mother sobs at the snatching of life – in it she finds no meaning. Barren tree-branches darken against a pallid sky and thoughts of a merry Christmas become a distant memory. There will be no tree this year.
Celebrations will not mark the beginning of next year; it will be a Christmas of reflection and grief, pain and love; it will tell volumes about the strength of this nation’s fabric. December 14th, 2012 has changed us again, forever. Let this loss not be forgotten; let it sprout giants of a peaceful social paradigm.
12.24 – Gloria
Courage and cowardice, side by side.
A fine line divides full faith and a lie.
Betrayal of brothers, Iscariot’s tale;
Life’s that horizon amid heaven and hell.
What good is possible must always be done.
What killing’s avoidable, severely shunned.
Selfishness abandoned, your charity peaks;
Diversity emboldens communal leaps.
1.30 – The Perfect Angel
Beautiful can be haunting; within perfection lurks an eerie unnaturalness. It feels like velvet on your tongue – it feels like fire inside your eyes, as if you are looking into the sun. Yes, pure beauty is horrifying, at least – it reminds me of the silence before storms.
I was self-concerned, so absorbed with things I could touch, things others would readily covet. Judgment riddled me and I could not see the coming of the most catastrophic disasters. But now it is clear; in the temptation of perfection lives the Devil.
2.14 – The Beekeeper
The utility of medicine is to the human engine as oil is to a lamp. It is not that without it nothing would run; though, it would rust, grind, crack, break and eventually die – reduced to dust, by fire or time. But in that sense, why grease the machine at all? It all gets consumed, reduced and resumed – infinitely.
In this moment, we see time stretch – if it all cycles back infinitely, a moment can be a lifetime; an atom, the universe. I can have lived a millions lives in a moment or none at all, trapped, hidden, and closeted. The utility of medicine or oil or food or stars, therefore, is to allow existence to be – free, unrestricted and well-lubed.
4.18 – Martin
I would have expressed something to someone – but my mind had been splintered with ball bearings and nails. Numbness then overcame me; I now keep fishing for that feeling I had twelve years ago – I want to be enraged, ready for war on culprits. Yet something has severed that rationale.
I am beginning to realize that terror has no place in me – an initial fear is my animalistic response; but it fades, quicker and quicker with each atrocity. What has taken its place is a brazen courage to withstand violence to a level that confounds sadists seeking heaven with a barter of innocent lives.
I would have written something more somber – but my mind only felt a short-lived pain, eclipsed by the love of strangers. Yet, the pain three less lives can bring is limitless; as if atoms from my skin had been snatched from me without consent. So I write just this: no more hurting people.
5.17 – Gold
I have everything I need, except money; in a way, I live in an entirely different universe.
A few months ago, I let go of worry because I figured all it would do is make life scary.
Ironic, I was born with a golden spoon in my mouth; it took me longer than most to start talking.
And now at the turn of my third decade, all I have left are my words – in a world all about money.
My Nuna taught me that money means little; living happy comes only from seeing that joy everywhere.
She spent the last twenty-five years of her life in my service, my brother after me, my father – and me.
On my tenth birthday she took me up to the third floor of our house and handed me a gold neck-chain.
She had been saving for years, just for that day; I do not know where that chain went – I want it back.
5.21 – Land of Mirrors
What you take from me will not sustain you; what I have left, though, will suffice for the rest of my life in this universe. This was a battle, a test where you lose – overcome by greed and self-importance, you are lost. What you have that is mine will decay as fruit on a dead vine – you will find no comfort in my wine.
Those days leave with you, when I had faith in the hearts of men – it is only my soliloquy, my fingers, my mind that I need. Within me I am both nothing and everything; I do what my conscience dictates. I am no longer swayed by leaps of hope and prefabricated social utopias – even in margins, a status quo grows.
So today, I affirm I have no home and every ounce of me lives to convey – to you – what my mind dictates. Every droplet of knowledge, I consolidate within my words, my scribbles with pens and pencils, ink and dye. And if a degree informs me even a scintilla, it influences my life’s work in leaps and bounds.
There is nothing about my past, present or future that is anything but what I say I am at this moment. I am a culmination of everything I have experienced; I cannot weigh the value of my knowledge on the scale of a degree created by arbitrary rules, guarded by blind dogs of justiciable retribution.
So take from me what you will; I will not let you have my soul. Give me your doubts and burdens; I will not cower under the weight. As you were my strongest suit, you are now my last mistake; a heart will no longer beat where you will inevitably expect – there you will find a barren land of mirrors.
6.27 – Space
I imagine my existence much like an ever-expanding Space. I inhale, quite literally at first; then more gradual, more intellectual. The fibers defining my limits must stretch evenly across, or else I explode, unbalanced in my positives and negatives. I am just a mathematical calculation, to the nanoest inch.
Are we so very different after all? I cannot tell. We celebrate approximately the same holidays, similar mythologies, and replicated genetics; how do we differ then? In what universe is our composition other, other than within our minds? The darkest prison, the cruelest trap – our minds; walls self-constructed.
Part of me lives in the moment; other parts float in the cosmos, intermingling with my atomic kin. There are parts of me somewhere in another galaxy; like a dream, in a psychedelic fantasy of smiles, sorrows and tragedies. And then I hit a wall, stub my toe on a dislodged cobble; I am reminded of my physicality.
8.6 – Barter of Souls
We have been put on this earth to restore the grandeur of our most beautiful eco-systems. Intelligent design is the universe’s last hope; dinosaurs and old oaks have disappeared – elephants inch closer with an increase in our barbaric demand for ivory. This must be stopped, lest the universe will tear apart.
The human mind is unlike any other earthly organism – then why have we stopped asking why we are here? For, from scientists to the pope, every intellectual principle has a purpose, a cosmic duty. Why have we stopped exploring the purpose of humanity? Within this purpose lies the liberation of society.
The end of existence is not a myth; all that lives must also die – when that may happen depends entirely on the human race. Our devouring nature has destabilized the order of nature – glaciers have melted, forests lay buried, or mowed over for ‘civilized’ development. If monkeys live in trees, why can’t we?
The day will come sooner than we think – the shorelines will rise up to living rooms and mezzanine restaurants. Warning shots keep firing but our internal, introverted universes keep revolving around the smallest of things – money, prejudgment, hatred, violence, intolerance – without any worry of the end.
But it is coming – a day when our worlds will no longer be defined by the rules that divide us today. This day, when cries of billions sound out to the heavens for mercy, God will rise from the peaks of hills for the final dance. Coin will have no worth – with personal identity, the weight of our souls, we will barter.
10.7 – Futile Judge
Knowledge is a lightning bolt – misdirected, it dehydrates and destroys that which it touches. Ignorance is a mindless bliss – add some misunderstood knowledge and a demon comes alive. Misunderstandings create weak links, turning morality into terrorism – love to nothingness. Sacred and profane are then created – in the same mass, divergent identities coexist and collide. Interestingly, such is existence – to inhabit the same space, yet be entirely antithetical to oneself. Paradoxes and contradictions riddle the cosmos down to its fundamentals; entropy, striving for more. To distinguish based on misunderstood knowledge – to judge – cannot function without failure. Judgment based on morality cannot function – it builds ladders and plows no fields. For judgment separates a coexistence, it eventually becomes futile.
10.27 – Brownies
I try my best to be punctual; twice a day, especially, when the clock’s hands meet facing south-east.
Sometimes the moment lasts so much longer – I leap over thoughts, jot them down, cross them out.
In just those two moments; and before bed, to soothe; to start my day, to wake – I bake.
10.27 – Lotus
Wisdom is the essence of humanity; thrown around, its utilitarian purpose frustrated, eaten by crows and sparrows, very little value remains. Observe; advise only those who seek your light. Let the rest of the universe coast, like raindrops on lotus leaves.
10.27 – Lament
I cannot help but feel loved – but it’s complicated. It’s not a matter of doubt, just exaggerated.
The pendulum slices quietly – it is amputated. It is not a matter of death, just incarcerated.
I cannot help but feel loved – but its burden hunches my back; life, a suffering, elongated.
10.27 – Trichotomous
By nature, a human parent bears a heavier burden than any other creature to safeguard the well-being of its offspring. Human responsibility goes further than any other form of organic life because we are gifted with wisdom – intelligent design compels us to be more considerate; a generous steward.
10.28 – Luck
Nudging is better than pushing; a neck, better than the head. The mother pushes on instinct; in subtle ways, she says, ideas flare. At first, with one lucky strike; a spark from two clashing stones – over a pile of parched life, the flashes dance, casting out its fishing hooks for one dried filament to catch a flame.
10.28 – Sandalwood
Do you see the fire on the hilltop? Do you see the opaque smoke rising? With hints and peeks of a blaze – red robins fly over your head – do you see? Mockingbirds cry and brave men cower – their nests left lit in fire. There is no light, no blessing of God – only this ash descending from the pouring sky.
11.7 – Thanksgiving
The harvest moon rises; the sun, lazy across the auburn sky. Pumpkin patches and burning leaves; trees turn into fall’s kaleidoscope. Colors of fire, from yellow to sienna to a translucent red – oaks and maples play with their changing shades, dancing to an autumnal breeze, with shadows and sunlight.
11.8 – Vote Responsibly
Nuna voted in every single election; other than Christmas, Election Day was her only other ‘vacation-time.’ She was illiterate and did not know how to write her name – she always returned home with ink-stains on her thumb, proudly touting how she voted and I absolutely should exercise that right one day.
So I have voted in every election since I have been able. Not just to obey her edict but also to do the integral duty of an active citizen. Voting is the culmination of every ounce of energy a said person invests in the well-being of society – it is participating in the construction of a more perfect union.
When I leave the voting station, I feel lighter; as if I have left something behind. All my hopes for this great nation and the well-being of this world rest on the ink-bits that etch my name. My energy centers consolidated, my vote echoes my spirit – a peaceful, prosperous and honest future.