poetry about life

20 Nov 2015

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Waking from the Dream

Waking up is hard
The hibernation starts with the realization
The realization that nothing is as it was supposed to be
With the job lost, the failed loves,
those inconvenient and pesky things
Emotions

Then the news says death
By ingestion, breathing, walking a certain way
And it’s all true, all of it

So, sleep
Sleep through it all
Expecting to be awakened by that alarm clock called Change
However, when sleep, opportunities pass, and change recedes
in direct correlation to how many of those chances go untaken

Maybe while sleep
a dream creates a warning
A whisper
The truth
of what was thought of as truth

But it’s hard to wake
But it’s hard to wake

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9 Apr 2007

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Ambiance

The ambiance of the child bearer
Visualization is lost

Screaming spreads religious thought
Children pity adults and follow each other

Peer pressure made me do it
Close my eyes and go back

To the third person
him her it

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20 Mar 2007

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Ascendance

It was one of those nights

When lunar wombs

Became pregnant

With the words of distant stars

And gray matter preached

Of the existence of an

Inter/Inner planetary fire

That burns

Into ashes

That I blow

Away into infinity

Causing the birth

Of a new universe

As I tap the cigarette ash

Into the ashtray

I wonder

Does this then make me God

This power over life and death

Though this life and that death

May only be my own

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18 Mar 2007

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Mirrors

I see god multiplied a trillion times
Each time I look into the mirror

Each word grinds against each man’s knowing
Until each man’s doings reflect me

I see skies that reflect the brilliance of each man’s mind
Clouds that rain the tears of each mans eyes

Salty rivers that flow between the shores of each mans sighs
Mimicking the tears I cry

Each man that died left pieces of me
That consolidate and coincide with my own memories

So I am history made flesh and stuck on repeat
I am death made life supernatural energy

I am shallow made depth unnaturally deep
Breathless he died but some how I am he

“So breathe,” I tell myself as he watches me behind the glass
“Please!” Pleads my ghost for he wants to pass

Like time and like tide, like seasons that last
From the first to the grave, future to past

My thought be computer that crashed like Phoenix to ash
Rebooted new user repeated new data gets keyed then deleted

Never new but rehashed

Reverse then rebirth we regurgitate lies
We rehearse for the hearse as we act out our lives

Rewind then revise, restructured design
Reconstructed from minds that exist throughout time

Was I born when my father released in her thighs
Or when his father danced with grandmother and died

Melted to death in the pool of her eyes

*This is the original version of Mirrors Redux*

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18 Mar 2007

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The Killing Joke

A world within
Where feelings end and life begins
Called thought

Where the process that turns
The ethereal into a man dead
Rationale to feed his kids

Where those questions dwell
Never asked out loud
But fermenting into a false fact

It becomes a given
That your man is in all truth
Sleeping around

A world within
Where feelings end and life begins
Called thought

Where the process that turns
The ethereal into a solid hate
So strong
That skin color
Or hair or eye or flag
Becomes not one of a spectrum
But one of the enemy

So light or so dark
Was his soul
That he knew salvation lay
Within his own mind
And no others

Blood was spilled that day
And everyday thereafter

A world within
Where feelings end and life begins
Called thought

Where the process that turns
One misspoken word
Into misguided deed

Turns old feelings into new life
For better or for worse

A marriage of electricity
And synapse and impulse

Also known as
God’s sense of humor
Called thought

Punch line reached
Laugh or cry or die

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14 Mar 2007

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Reflections aka Mirrors Redux

(a re-imagining of Mirrors)

Fortune told like mirrors reflect
Life in continuance
Stuck in perpetual innocence
Without the benefits

Waters that flow
A rapid repetitiveness
Sea of life dying
From lack of intelligence

Drinking to sate
But that thirst he will never quench
As man drains the Gaia fountain
While searching for better gifts

Fortune like mirrors
Disguises benevolence
Or reveals his malevolence
True image is reticent

For the truth is three sided
Translucent and elegant
An illusion disguised
As a proof that’s Heaven sent

But the truth of the truth
Is that truth is irrelevant
A sickness man made
Who holds then the medicine

Connections like joints
Ties that bind us to all
Hidden strings pulled by hands
That the eye can’t behold

Hidden waves hidden ways
That you or I cannot control
Hidden grave called the flesh
Where laid to rest are our souls

For we can do nothing
But what we are told
So we swim and we drown
Or we drive and we fold

Or we fire reload
Our desire we grow
Or we falter and wither
Like a rose in the cold

Like deer in the headlights
Water to snow
Back to water then vapour
Then where do we go

Mirrors reflect
What our fortunes unfold
Or vice versa
We search for a reason to know

Of creation life’s sea
Cup the waters and drink it
What would you give up
For eternal damnation

Asked he who had
Taken for his occupation
The taking of lives
For no compensation

With soft susurrations
Seduced by the nascent
Designs of mankind
As a people or nation

This means they make vows
And pledges of sanction
Thus seeing false freedoms
Our eyes become vacant

We are as children
Still stumbling and naked
Our guardians party
While we get neglected

Fortune reflects
But the image mistaken
For mirrors show truths
Like a falsified statement

We are ephemeral
Skin deep epidermal
Made up of stars
Therefore we are eternal

Knowing all this
We still search for a kernel
Of wisdom of knowledge
We travel in circles

Fortune reflected
By mirrors of truth
Obtuse is the mind
Of those that accuse

Acute the design
Redefined in its prime
By presidents dead
Or by innocents dying

By spooks in the skies
By truth in the eyes
Of a child as he hears
How those truths turn to lies

Catch the wave baby
Bring truth to fight
So our troops then can see
How those truths are denied

Catch the wave baby
Go fishing in thought
Remembrance so deep
That past lives may get caught

Fortunes and mirrors
Reflect from far off
As the image gets closer
The meanings get lost

In winter we die
In the spring rose the corpse
Summer heat passion brings
Autumn preludes the frost

Caress wind and rain
And be unto yourself
A season and reason
Our freedoms need help

Mirrors and fortunes
And all is distortion
And all is in flux
So deception in motion

Its mental contortion
Their simple extortions
Trade life for illusion
A whole for a portion

Revenge is best served
Like meals to a coffin
Who eats when the corpse
Is feeding the corpses

Revenge is best served
When it’s chilled and it’s cold
Large bodies of ice
Moving shaping the world

Oyster the earth
Pressure I am the pearl
Coal turned diamond in rough
From concrete roses unfurled

Like straightening fetus
Escape from the curl
Escape from the body
The rigmarole

Like monkey to man
We escaped from the fold
Like the sifting of sands
We filtered our souls

Look to your hand
And see fortunes get told
Keep to the plan
And don’t fear the unknown

If a god is the writer
Then we are its poem
The world is its novel
Just one of it’s tomes

The title the volume
We struggle to know
We die in the effort
We stuttered our growth

Like the basic human reflex
To detect change and correct
All that is not themselves
So we just fake the effect

Arrogance like two dots
And one line can create
The human face without flesh
One circle contains and connects

Fortune told like mirrors reflect
Life in continuance
Stuck in perpetual innocence
Without the benefits

————————————————————

Look to the flower
For it is a living metaphor
For all things

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By: Silencio Barnes Poetry, Writing Tags: Eternal Figments of Reality, free verse, philosophical poetry, poetry, poetry about fate, poetry about fortune, poetry about humanity, poetry about life, poetry about mirrors, poetry about the human mind, stream of consciousness, Writing

11 Nov 2006

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Except For Dreams

It’s so hard
To go forward
He said looking
Slightly to the sky
So hard to build

Easy to destroy

Why do you
Think that is
He asked me
Awaiting an answer
That he knew
I knew

A pause
As birds
Fly across
The sunlit
Skies screaming
Their freedom

Except for dreams
He said before
I could answer

Except for dreams

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29 May 2006

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On Actions

Remember
He said

Actions are but extensions of thought
And to live is to sin

Existence is bitter
Survival sweet

Reap what you wrought
And weep

Shed tears for what is lost
When you commit

To commit

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6 Dec 2005

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Dilemma

After telling him I was broke
Had no car and no job
And couldn’t get one without the other
He turned to me with that slight grin
That never leaves his face
“Nigga, you better sell that neem”

Neem being a word used for crack of course
Funny story behind that but at the moment
Not so important

Just remember
That every now and then
The language shifts

New metaphors
For the same life

Gotta keep it fresh

He goes on to tell me my life’s story
“Son,”
He says
“You are the only person
That doesn’t touch the stuff.
Your brother, your uncle, your aunts
Got it to distribute.

Your fucking grandmother got re-up!
How fucking ill is that?”

Not ill meaning ill
But ill meaning real
Not real meaning concrete
Or tangible like steel
But real meaning so deep
Transcending the surreal

The vernacular of the hood
Is poetry itself

So many meanings in one word
Like English deferred
At the same time sped up
During meetings at the curb

I watched my mother smoke it
From as far back as I can remember
I watched my father pull guns over it
I watched my grandmother cut it up on
The kitchen table as I asked her what
She was getting me for Christmas
I watched my younger brother go to jail
Police showing photographs of the sale
I watched my other brother’s behavior
The hyperactive personality
As natural as calves with two heads
I watched from the insides of more houses
Than I care to remember
Passed from place to place like a parcel
I watched police kick in doors
And FBI follow

Watching my surrogate grandfather
Wither away into nothing

“Didn’t you use to sell it?”
He asked me interrupting my reverie

Yea for like a day
It was too cold for me to be standing on the corner

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22 Sep 2004

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The HisStory of He

His money bleeds through frozen funds
His woman breathes through blackened lungs
His son he feeds through paltry sums
His rent is due hot water’s gone

He tried to do what’s right, was wronged
He tried to be polite, was scorned
He tried with all his might, lost all
He died a death that night, reborn

He devised a plan that involved a mark
He divides the crime by the time involved
He refines details as the day gets dark
He confides in none, he redefines resolve

He contemplates what he has never done
He starts to shake when the moment comes
He decides that fate at this moment’s gone
He closed his eyes, his demeanor numbs

He held his breath as he held the gun
His conscious left, his heartbeat drummed
…but then he thought about his son
He felt ashamed, and he turned to run

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