#58 My Promised Land. Somehow I Was Still Alive Pt II.

courtesy Wojciech Wolak

wojciech wolak

wojciech wolak

I had to 

crash into the earth

to find my place among the stars,

had to 

ride these waves and conquer sprays

to see land wasn't too far,

Watch me

break my own bones and rend my flesh

for a small glimpse of my soul,

learning to fly

through ageless nights

with wings I once refused to hold,

And then when

reaching daybreak's silenced heights

I felt arrows pierce inside

Leaving me to plunge

to depths 

whose will was made 

to have my courage euthanized...

so many times

I’ve fallen

in an attempt to rest but for a while...

but see me rise though 

grieved and tired;

for I've been taught

to never tie myself to a ground

that can easily change into sinking sands,

to face the odds though death may be at hand

and its through all these things

I've lost all fear, all concerns,

and all cares.

For they are not allowed

into the place I seek,

where the earth

is indeed inhabited by the meek 

solidly built  

on hope’s outstretched hands

beckoning me to 

.My promised land.

 My Inspiration: Daybreak.

 

© KohylahPiper 2015

#27 Absent

courtesy: Wordpress Blog Random_Michelle

She had found protection

in concealing her true nature

behind leather bindings of

Christie’s, Eyre’s and

Hemingway’s chatter,

for their world

though pained

and mysteriously truthful

was easier than

the surroundings

life forced her to be

committed to.

She loathed being an

unadjusted prototype

of the monotonous mass

of black and white or grey

coloured folks

who were content to pass

by this changing world

indifferent to the lack

of spiritual resources

that had been emptying

faster

than the destruction

wreaking havoc on its

human culture.

It was ironic…

she had often felt,

how her world fed

so hungrily

on its own death;

seemingly unknowing

yet purposefully

creating dearth

wherever it went.

Hate was abundant

whenever love

was buried alive

and lies infiltrated homes

darkening the ideals

of housed souls

where truth

once vivaciously

carried the light

that reduced

many energy bills

to more than twice

their content

wiping away the smut

of dirty carbon footprints

that were left in places of her

own being

though she had tried

to reduce the overloading

of her programmed mind.

But.

Enough.

And she shifted her focus

back to Hemingway's chatter

that had filled the lived in

silences of her loss of laughter

in this empty world

that sacrificed trust and hope

for suspicion and fear

since everyone,

like her

in this nearly absent world

had disappeared.

# SELAHSATURDAYS

My Inspiration:  World News & Photo Prompt by Random_Michelle

 

© KohylahPiper 2015

#15 In Memory Of...Sunrise and Sunset

Sometimes I’m awed at the fact

that I’m given another day

to develop goals

dream the unthinkable

collide with possibilities

so many opportunities

to capture, create, or unfold

when many young as and younger

than me

now cease to exist

in this reality

never knowing of a next day

because they’ve been taken away…

This last year

has been like…

a reaping.

So many young people

talents lost

.Gone.

So many hearts shaken

Traces of what once was

and who was and is

still loved

are left hanging in cyberspace

as likes, funny comments

and those hollow

unanswered messages

A desk space infamously

organized or cluttered

has now vanished

A church seat is now empty

where it was once claimed out of habit

A regular phone call expected

during the weekdays

will never be heard again

ringing

just as voices

that made us laugh

curse and cry

will be never heard

off key, or in perfect harmony

singing…

We all stand suspended

in this limited space of time

and though we live as if we hold

infinity in our grasp

how

many

times

this past year

have we been reminded

that the metaphoric hourglasses

hidden within

our finite bodies

empty a bit more

as the calendar

moves ahead

.Firmly.

and for anyone of us

without respect or preference

can and will

.Stop.

.Suddenly.

This is what has taught me

on my own brief path

to see through the haze

and hold true to who

and what’s really important

Like

giving as much love to those

I love and sharing kindness

to every other person,

to never take for granted

that character and integrity

will outlast wealth or fame

and be cognizant that

I’ll leave empty handed

exactly as I came…

To not engage in the dramatized

glare that takes away

from a purpose well spent,

to remember in these days of my youth

the light I should represent,

to find a way to leave

even a fraction of my world

better that I found it

and to give my best

even when feeling at my worst

leaving no place for regrets.

To be a stepping stone

instead of a stumbling block

to whomever may be around

and to be grateful…

For

every second

I breathe...

Living always first from the inside

then out.

You see,

life is but for a moment

that is one thing that is sure

but it’s the quality

of the quantity lived

the same we tend to misuse, refuse

or ignore

that will make us

into who we eventually are.

For when flowers once fresh have wilted

and gravity holds us no more

and our soul

leaves the temporal,

decorative camouflage

to enter another portal…

What kind of memories would we have left?

What choices would have defined us?

Will we be ready for the mystery

of truth that lies before us?

Our bodies are but passengers

that will make one final descent

leaving our souls, our true selves

to bear the burden of what we wrote

on our own pages

crumpled, tossed or held

or on another person’s

that we’ve straightened

or deliberately bent…

of any light or darkness we’ve left…

the difference we could have made,

but

hadn’t gotten around to just yet.

Life is but for a moment

ensure its honour is kept

and by all means

.Please.

Create…

at least one masterpiece

in between your sunrise and sunset.

 My Inspiration: Young deaths 2014-2015 in Wadadli

 

© KohylahPiper 2015