Nickel's & Hold on (Poems by me)
Nickel’s
Sometimes the best advice doesn’t always come from those we expect them to. We find ourselves bound to an idea, a thought that we can conceive and hold as a moral value. What ever happened to peace and prosperity? Did the silence finally overcome us all? The walls begin to close and we begin to misbelieve what has been taught to us for generations and still yet to come. What are we to make of ourselves when we wake into a world that we no longer recognize? A world in which mirrors could lie and paintings are worn out. Now I sit here at my desk writing all these questions and thoughts that come to mind, watching the little insignificant ants recklessly walking along side my papers searching, hunting for a way out of its mess. We explore the nature of our well being and come to a realization that the human race is based on an idea of self-perfection. Yet I wonder, how we be so consumed by this idea and not the bitter end of it? How can we swallow up all the greed and toss it of our shoulder as if it were a speck of dust? How can we face ourselves in the mirror day-by-day and not hate what we see? We are idea hungry animals who strives for the perfection of mankind from dawn till dusk. Evolution was once thought of a high priority and how our ancestors came to being, but now all the stories and myths don’t exists anymore, not even in the hearts of our children. Our daily pursue in life come to an irrational stop when we realize that in certain aspects we are not capable of completing certain tasks and we tend to blame it on some form of sickness or even old age. As I walked the streets of my home town, a quiet little place, I saw a women toss a nickel on the street for a peasant asking for food and shelter, at that moment I realized that even though the good that’s left in this world is so very little, at least there is some left and even that can make a change. I kept walking thinking about this peasant women, and I did not pity her even though she was being excluded from the joys of life, she is also being excluded from corruption and world domination. From greed and envy. I truly believe that even though she cries for scraps of food and shelter from the bitter cold, I believe that she has a deep appreciation towards life and with every nickel that may be thrown at her feet she may find the tiniest form of happiness.
Hold on
Between a great passion and an unknown love, I heard you talking softly. Walking down the parkway I become the everyday fool. I take a guess at what the statues think, what repose they bring, and yet for some strange reason I find comfort in there solitude and their stillness. I sit and drink my coffee gazing into the pebbled street pondering on how something so small can make something so marvelous and silent. I fear that I have loved for all the wrong reasons. The cup in my hand glistens in the sun attracting some strange but eager fellow, I wonder how such a small fragment can capture ones nature and attention. The sun sets among the tree tops, while my repercussions omit to the disaster when the young fellow implied a drink. With teeth of pearl and skin of ivory, I sink into the sound of the trees humming. The children play in the park, frolicking in the grass, long it seems to tower over their heads, how is it so that they have no worries? A time for screams, a time for silence, I wonder why? A time to choose against your life, there’s a time for us to shine. This time is the time to hurt, the time heal, the time to run and make a stand. At least that’s what I tell myself. Now as I walk back into my tiny apartment I begin to remember the vase that broke upon the stair-way, and the blossomed women who danced among the streets selling her petals. Once I thought I would never be able to live again, that my world has no meaning, no color, no sun. But now it is the time to speak, to listen, to let go, time for peace and fighting. Time to breathe in the fresh air, and walk in the fields and scream at the top of our lungs and live once again. Gazing amongst the pastures watching the young man make his stand, embrace the wind within your grasp and never let it go. Time of truth against the lie. This is the time of our lives, hold on.
-later-