To Reach for Redemption
we must first Recognize your Reality
Release Resistance
Respond with Resilience
Realize your Reapings
Revel in your Revelations
and Rumble Young Rebel, Rumble!
because Redemption, is an act of defiance
Spirit
fearful love
fear and love
those two things can’t coexist together the way that we force them too
love is liberating
fear is captivity
often I’ve noticed in relationships
if one of the two cave to fear more than love
they’ll ask their lover if they can make changes to accept them at lower areas where they are more comfortable at
instead of rise out of their fears and love them at the level where both can succeed
too many concessions compensations and compromises made for the sake of being nothing more than comfortable
and any push becomes an assault on the other’s level of love for not accepting them as is
instead of a declaration of “I love you so much that I want better for of and from you”
we don’t teach each other how to love and want more
we create a cultural norm where to want more is an option and dangerous
rather than an inherited and natural journey of any life
so no one learns how to love at levels other than the ones they are most comfortable at
symbolic of the lack of growth and evolution we have day to day when it comes to accepting another for who they are
let alone our cultural standard for making people go through lifetimes of hell to finally be comfortable at just one of their truths
so I wonder
how many people fall in love and then settle as if there’s nothing more to be gained
therefore, nothing can be lost
versus those that fall in love, and then fly together
if we’re taught to fear a God of Love
then what kind of love do you think we will settle for and divvy out to each other?
cut thin
I cut myself
and watched my flesh-
this temporary shell to which my spirit hides within-
break apart
to the intrusion of this life’s pain
and as the blood succumbs to the pressure of gravity
a pressure I know all to well,
it cascades down-
painting all in its path
I smeared it
as if molding clay pottery
my trail of tragedy,
cloaking the skin that once was its captivity
although free for now
before it too,
like all things surface,
is soon washed away and long forgotten
disappearing to distant memories
for it was only a temporary experience
a quick and baneful existence
because no pain lasts forever…
or so they say
and the scar-
a reminder of my suffering surface-
marks the vulnerability of shallowness
so why live there?
when what lies beneath heals what lives in plain sight
I wish my spirit free
better to be deep
when it’s the surface that always breaks first
but I guess its a matter of perception
because self inflicted cuts,
hurt less than the ones life has given me
or maybe its the control I have
versus the consistent lack of
I even feel myself more
than the obedient punishment I take otherwise
I just want what’s inside to be free
so everyone can see who I truly am
and each cut,
is but an attempt at peeling back one layer at a time
maybe you’ll see me then
maybe you won’t
just as,
I can’t control what you see in me because of life’s inflicted cuts,
I can’t control what you see in me because of my self inflicted ones either
I’m stuck
because even when I have control
I’m still powerless
now, I am
I am who I am
I am who I was
but who I was, I am no longer
I am now who I wasn’t
now I will never be who I was
and I will always be who I am
but I will forever be who I am becoming
because I became who I am
because who I was
though I’m no longer that
its still a part of my story
and you will either accept all of me
or fragments-
just as I was
but that still won’t change me
what changed me,
was who you used to see
and what you used to see in me
but you can’t see that no longer
and that may scare you
because it could say more about you
and who you are
which could be the same
but the nature of life is change
most people live in fear because they project the past onto the present
if you live in fear
you may never be able to see me,
nor accept my change
but we’re all destined to evolve
regardless of my yesterday,
I am present
not stuck in past that no longer exists
so stop looking for me there
because you won’t find me
I can’t be two places at once
I am, now
that power word
power…
what is too much power
when challenging establishments and norms
when uprooting inequalities and integrating balance
what or when is it too much power
what is the balance too which when one side feels to impeded and imposed upon
what is the shade to with which feels too dark for those closer to the light, and too light for those used to the grasps of darkness
I ask you
what is too much
and what is not enough
is there or will there ever be a zero balance
a place of equilibrium where we all can coexist on equal footing
a line of humanity that doesn’t bend or break to animality
what is too much power
when you have a voice and a mind of your own,
objective enough to know how to recognize a problem and find equatable solutions without bias, all the while subjective enough to conjure its own emotional vulnerability that connects to the emotions of others orchestrating the notes of change
and at what cost for power
what is the consequence of position
is there a fair sacrifice for the power inherited that may make others more uncomfortable in order to make more of the “others” comfortable
well give me that position!
I want power!
that power that can be the bold unwavering compassionate loving and courageous face of change
I’m willing to lay my life down for it, creating generations of prosperity harmony and liberation, all through love
I don’t want to be that person that’s nods their heads and cringes internally, being too uncomfortable to challenge errors biases and oppression because I fear loss
for what is loss to an eternal spirit and soul
this body and its worldly possessions are all temporary
and the things that may bring me to have fear are also all temporary
but that which I love can be forever just as I and we all are at our core
so why lose sight of our eternal natures for our temporary motivations and pleasures
give me power and I will empower
give me power and I will enlighten
give me power and I will ensure energy
the energy that fights and doesnt settle, nor succumbs for possessions or at positions of squander and its rations of prosperity and loss
give me power and I will embolden the silenced
give me power and I will enchant the hopeless
give me power and I wll enable a culture of empathy
and we will move forward to a more peaceful and prosperous paradigm of oneness
give me power because the only thing I fear is accepting the role of being powerless and living helplessly within the same status quo
power won’t change my mind,
my mind has already been changed and evolved from the belief of having a lack of power,
to the finding and now knowing and understanding of the fact that I always had it and didn’t need anyone to grant me it
give me the power because it will change their minds…it will change your mind
and if you can take that change or not will be the decider of how much power, is too much power
but my answer is that, if that power is rooted in love, than only fear would ever seek to limit power, because the power of love and not the love of power, will never be too much power
I am powerful
Why Thou Art?
Our society is so hyper vigilant and all about instant gratification, the need of immediate results and tangibility so art can seem useless. What can you do but marvel at it. But art as it is, is quite powerful, it incites creation, healing, wonder and more. It makes the deepest accesses of the mind known then manifest. It helps purge, being a supreme act of expression and therefore ventilation for the repressed minds we often inhabit. It is a sense of self, largely lost in our world with so much conformity and tribalism
Oscar Wilde’s, “Dorian Grey” preface of the book spoke of Art’s uselessness and an artist liking too much what he made as if self deprecation is the only rational response to your own creation.
Why is it taboo to give yourself superlatives that suggest greatness, patting your own back, why most others validate us before we ourselves?
We’ll spend lifetimes seeking others acceptance because we aren’t taught to stoke our own egos, as if humility is only in self deprecation
This hits home because Art empowers, it empowered me! Of course I didn’t even know this til recently, spending so much time downplaying what art means to me, softly acknowledging what I’ve been able to do and who I’ve been able to become because of it. Though I can’t dare call myself powerful or great or say that I am a good or great writer because how would that look to others, I myself even cringe at times at the implication imposed upon me or declared by myself. I mean beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that jazz, but different strokes and to each their own, because everyone won’t feel my art. It doesn’t dismiss its greatness, even if self proclaimed, it wasn’t created for approval, but as an expression of me. Why would I assume my art can achieve what I haven’t, acceptance? A structural writer wouldn’t marvel at my writing because its everywhere-no form, decorated in loose free flowing flaws. My writing is all over the place, but so is life, so am I. It expresses me, not structure because I am not formality nor structure. I am random and rambunctious. We love to give the appearance of being neat clean put together and highly functioning, but that’s not our truth, it’s pretend at best, a public mask, it reminds me of how much work and pain women endured just to wear a tightly tied corset back in the day. My life isn’t tied tight, holding it breath as to not be seen as something less, not even close. My writing depicts my internal conflicts and attempts at resolution, which gives me a messy sort of harmony, warring for balance while several different themes of complimentary forces, which I once viewed as opposing, fighting each other for dominion. As they wrestle at impasse, I find myself even keel in the midst of chaos one step too far to the left, or conformed organization too far to the right, so I walk boldly between in the grey where I believe truth self and real life not only exists but thrives! Because art isn’t useless, it uses life, it demands attention, for you to stop, reflect, express, then re-imagine beyond the borders of that which you’ve just witnessed