gko

Shaken. We are Shaken.
When our mother trembles in pain, we feel it in our bones and wish for relief.

Lifted. We are still.
When the Earth cries, we tread water in her tears.

Swimming. We are drowning.
When the life boats of whiteness, stability, and education comes… we hop aboard.
Is this the relief we’ve been wishing for?

We plug our selves in and embrace it.
Paper rains from the skies and we find our selves moving like crabs in a bucket.
Gluttony fogs the vision, and entitlement reigns from the Fire of Deception

Forget. We forget.
Brothers and Sisters from afar, their cries and agony slowly fade. No longer do I hear. No longer do I see. No longer do I feel at the surface.
Is this the relief we’ve been wishing for?

Empty, we are Empty.
The salt of her tears, the movement of our legs, the harmony of water moving water.
We yearn for that feeling.

Resilience. Purpose. Fulfillment.
A silent longing.

Depression. Isolation. This is my struggle.
It’s always going to be there.
Just like the water. Just like the pain.

Choices. We have choices.
The life boat is my sanctuary and it distorts my perception.

What can I do?

Words. I have words.
Carefully selected from the receding waters.
Each one purified, neutralized, and charged under the crescent moon.

Collections, encyclopedias, libraries.
Contact and Access held in the palm of my hands.
Contact and Access obtained through my forehead.

This carpet is my platform. These are not my words.

These words have been slaughtered, drowned, and forgotten.
Through the lens of purpose, I pick them up one by one with my bare hands.

These are not my words.
These words have been around long before my genesis.

These words have been obtained and I choose to hold them until I have no choice but to release them methodically and intentionally.

The life boat can hold many words, but it’s reaching capacity.

Sink or Swim. Fight or Win.
Release, in thin….layers.

Digestible. Compatible. Filtered. Recycled.
The pattern remains.

A sacred geometry of sound and sight is fulfilled.
Please don’t let go.
Please don’t lose hope.
Please stay with us.
Please, Rafiq. My companion, my comrade… I beg of you. Selfishly.

The musk fills the air and we brace for the worst possible impact.
Please don’t let it be.

Mourning another Martyr was not on this week’s schedule.
Wait, how would I know that? What about The Supreme Itinerary?
(To say God’s Plan is soo cliche. Supreme Itinerary sounds a bit culty)

Trying to be digestible, I scramble and sort through the library of discarded letters arranged on the freshly revealed river banks. The Bigger Picture… yes that sounds much better.

Edit:
Mourning another Martyr was not on this week’s schedule.
Wait, how would I know that? What about The Bigger Picture?

Questions arise and we have the skeptics to thank.
Skepticism is the very foundation of my faith.

But so is Hope.
Let’s hang onto that.

-GKO