Hush, listen to the call of Mother Nature..
Peace, prosperity, passion...
The essence of Nature of is the nature of Essence.
Mother Nature only wishes to teach you a lesson.
This is for the school-yard wimps, this is for the childhood bullies who tormented them.
This is for the former prom queen, this is for the milk-crate ball players.
This is for the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired, elderly Wal-Mart store front door greeters. Shake the dust.
This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them,
for the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns,
for the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children,
for the nighttime schoolers and the midnight bike riders who are trying to fly. Shake the dust.
This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half-English and half-god. Shake the dust.
For the girls with the brothers who are going crazy,
for those gym class wall flowers and the twelve-year-olds afraid of taking public showers,
for the kid who’s always late to class because he forgets the combination to his lockers,
for the girl who loves somebody else. Shake the dust.
This is for the hard men, the hard men who want to love but know that it won’t come.
For the ones who are forgotten, the ones the amendments do not stand up for.
For the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to and then are never spoken to. Speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself.
Do not let a moment go by that doesn’t remind you that your heart beats 900 times a day and that there are enough gallons of blood to make you an ocean.
Do not settle for letting these waves settle and the dust to collect in your veins.
This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling,
for the poetry teachers and for the people who go on vacations alone.
For the sweat that drips off of Mick Jaggers’ singing lips and for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner’s shaking hips, for the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived.
This is for the tired and for the dreamers and for those families who’ll never be like the Cleavers with perfectly made dinners and sons like Wally and the Beaver.
This is for the biggots,
this is for the sexists,
this is for the killers.
This is for the big house, pen-sentenced cats becoming redeemers and for the springtime that always shows up after the winters.
This? This is for you.
Make sure that by the time fisherman returns you are gone.
Because just like the days, I burn both ends and every time I write, every time I open my eyes I am cutting out a part of myself to give to you.
So shake the dust and take me with you when you do for none of this has never been for me.
All that pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls for you.
So grab this world by its clothespins and shake it out again and again and jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off shake it again for this is yours.
Make my words worth it, make this not just another poem that I write, not just another poem like just another night that sits heavy above us all.
Walk into it, breathe it in, let is crash through the halls of your arms at the millions of years of millions of poets coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the dust.
So when the world knocks at your front door, clutch the knob and open on up, running forward into its widespread greeting arms with your hands before you, fingertips trembling though they may be."
Every night, when you go to sleep, something magical happens. That transition between being awake and being asleep... that moment of nothingness...
(That moment of nothingness... what is it? How does it happen? And why? Could I live there? Is this what a coma is like? Is this just to give us a taste of what being nothing felt like?)
That moment right before you actually sleep, when you close your eyes and stop thinking, and are ready to slip into the dream world... that is magical. That moment when you are at peace with yourself; when you forget your worries and forgive life... that moment of belief in the existence of something greater, a purpose perhaps.. a purpose that gives you the will to live until the next day. You only die when you fulfill this purpose or completely give up on life. And in that moment, you feel a glimpse of light in your heart, and the light of God is shed unto you just for a moment. Then you are asleep, and it is gone.
This world of ours is full of dangers of all sorts: physical, psychological, mental, and so forth. These dangers will, in some way or another, place the person (or people) upon which this danger is inflicted in pain. But the danger is not in the pain itself, or the consequences of that pain. It's a far more grave matter than just pain. It's the destruction of a small idea that carries within it much more than meets the eye.
Imagine the following scenario: a man is held at gunpoint by another man. The man with the gun is now inflicting emotional pain on the unarmed man because of the unjust power he has over him. Then, at the moment he fires the gun, something completely different happens. It's not about the unarmed man.. it's not about him being wounded or dying. It's about a very deep change inside the man with the gun. He's now lost a part of him that he will never be able to get back again. The pain that he will be in now is far greater than that of the other man.. the other man will either be healed or be dead with time. But the other man will live in death, praying for salvation and forgiveness, or descending into self-anarchy by giving way to himself by killing more people. It's that loss of power of his self that automatically comes with the power he gains from the gun. Power is too dangerous a thing to possess.
So, in a sense, this is a universal law. Once a man allows a source of power from outside of himself to take over him, he loses the power of control over himself because it's now been externalized. That power may cause addiction, and with that corruption is almost certain to come. The real problem starts occurring when those who are in power are the same people who have no control over themselves and only lust for power, and that is exactly what we're facing today. Look at the world right today: new scientific discoveries are made by the day, companies are innovating and making money, and new cities are built everywhere. But is this good? We're not looking at the other side... moral corruption, in all its forms, is tearing the world apart. Look at all the extremists who belong to no religious or ethnic groups, look at all the great gap that is constantly growing between the poor and the rich, and how each considers the other to be his enemy. Look at all the corrupt ideas that people are being fed. It's not a matter of how much we can create, or how elaborate our tools are, but a matter of how good our hearts are. Without our good hearts, we are nothing. What are we without a good will and a strong heart?
And thusly, this raises an important question: should the people who are in power today be in power, or have they lost their good wills in their pursuit of more power? The lust for power is what has corrupted the hearts of men all throughout history. What the world needs is not a revolution of men, but a revolution of hearts. If each free man, woman and child could simply refuse to be a slave for those who are in greater power, we will win. Not because we're greater in number, but because we're living for this idea that can't be destroyed. The idea lives even if we die. The reason for why we'll win is because we are the ones running the machine. We are inside it, and sadly most people accept it. If we choose to stop running, the machine will collapse and then we can start anew.
- "I'm not afraid of what you have just done, but of what you've just become." -- Miakel Åkerfeldt, from the song 'Weakness' by the band Opeth
- "Ideas are bulletproof." -- Andy Wachowski and Larry Wachowski, as V, from the film 'V for Vendetta'
- "Let's start over again. Why can't we start it over again? Just let us start it over again... and we'll be good. This time we'll get it right. It's our last chance to forgive ourselves." -- Matt Bellamy, from the song 'Exogenesis: Symphony, Pt. 3 (Redemption)' by the band Muse.
