Posted by: forquilombo | February 9, 2012

Back to Life/Recycled (Dedicated to the Weary)

Beyond the Clouds

Where rocks and chunks of metal and ice and chaos dwell

My unconscious thoughts traverse the void from whence the Adam fell

It travels past places where flying debris was expelled, by way of violence

Outward and onward to places much too far away for electronic eyes to pry

Way out yonder,

Where theories of Einstein and Hawking seemingly come to life

As the vast expanse of space and time slowly expand and contract,

I unravel like a tangled mass of yarn in the hands of an inquisitive child

Mortal thoughts preoccupy my mind no more as I explore,

With eyes wide shut,

Past the margins of this flesh, this bone, this prison that so many before me happily referred to as “home”

Deep now in meditation, a transformation ensues as I enter a place beyond where the so-called “soul” dwells

Suspended, transcendentally, light years past the proverbial nirvana or hell

Back to the lighted womb of, yet another, “mother”

Yet!!!

What should have been beheld as precious was, instead, casually neglected

Injected into a world filled with rage

Sacrificed at a young age to the nefariously malevolent gods and goddesses of hate

Beaten and broken verbally, mentally, and physically before being ceremoniously raped

The dramatic finale and climatic conclusion to seal the fate of that which now faced a disproportionately high mortality rate

With no imminent end to the seemingly endless deplorable conditions which replaces the spirit of innocence with toxic pollution,

Thoughts of self-medication and suicide seem like viable solutions

With no foreseeable salvation, or rescue by another, in sight

What should have been cherished as a blessing now struggles to remember a semblance the ever fading light

A light, which once represented the manifestation of solace and peace, now battles daily for its existence against turmoil, chaos, and grief

Distrust in all, emotional and physical detachment, and reckless fearlessness are now the keys to utilize in order to survive

What should have been protected and given wise direction now impatiently waits for death to arrive

In the meantime, bloodshed, pain, terror, and sheer brutality all help to pass the time

The bones of the weak and innocent and “good” are used to pick clean the teeth of their exact opposites, which they vehemently and continually oppose

And what should have been a light and an example of excellence hasn’t made it to, and adamantly doubts it will ever reach, the ceremonial age 21 years old

With no goals aspired to reach and a future outlook which seemed bleak

What should have been loved now appears, to others, as nonchalant, stoic, off-putting, devilish, black, unapproachable, anti-social, unmotivated, uneducated, and unreachable in action and demeanor

In all actuality, for many, these do not represent the true nature of their intentions

They are all coping mechanisms utilized to navigate a world where something as simple as smile can have adverse consequences

Plus, the constant stress of just surviving, in general, day to day, can have a diminishing effect upon the body as well as age the face

Thus, the youth rarely look, or act for that matter, their exact age

What should have reentered this realm for the very last time, having previously endured its share of suffering and pain (in this human condition),

Humbly submits his life, as a spectacle, for all that share in this perdition,

To judge, to analyze, and criticize with their pseudo-wisdom, isms and schisms

Not once taking into consideration that the same, uncertain, fate patiently awaits them; on THEIR return!

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