Quicksand

 

 

 

♡♥♡

 

 

 

I am quicksand

In a desert...

You are lost,

And your only hope

Lay someplace 

Deep beneath the layers

Of false pride

And prejudice

That your mother's 

Hand laid,

Brick

By 

Brick,

Skillfully,

Eyes closed

For fearing the truth,

And hands clasped

In fists of rage,

Genetically embroidered

With ignorance...

You knew it was wrong,

But were programmed 

To weave your tapestry,

And i struggle with the question

Of what it is

That makes a child seek 

To emulate human kindness

When all they are taught 

Is hate.

 

I know it is senseless

To think i can help you

As you sink deeper

And deeper,

But you look to me

Because i am

The only thing

That has ever made sense

To that person lying

Underneath

All those layers

Of hate,

That are so difficult

To face...

The truth

Of how you were

Buried alive

So young,

And so every once

In a blue moon,

When the ignorance

You have inherited

Slaps my face

For no known reason,

i count to ten.

 

 

Because i know

That familiarity

Breeds contempt,

And people

Only know to do

What they

Learn to do,

Whether you are

Buried in bricks

Or buried

In quicksand,

Is all just

The same thing,

Until you reach

The bottom 

And decide

Where the other person

Ends,

And where you begin...




...And then

The hardest part

                                                                                                                   Is trying To stay still

 

       

The verbal bitch slaps are easy.

 

So go ahead,




Hate me until

You see

The other side of you.



By all means,


Hate me unto

The love

You cannot see.



♡♥♡


Author's Notes/Comments: 

So many people put themselves through hell because that is what they learned to do...not because they are stupid or stubborn.

 

"Arrows of hate have been aimed at me too, but they have never hit me,

because somehow they have belonged to another world of which i have no connection whatsoever".

 

—Albert Einstein ---Quoted in Portraits & Self-Portraits, by George Schreiber 1935–1936. AEA 28–332.

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SSmoothie's picture

i guess so, only I was stupid

i guess so, only I was stupid too! I gave it all and for some bullshit belief feeding anothers insecurities that could not be erased... I worked like a dog. I still am and I was happy with nothing. but it turns out the other was not. so off I go again like the most heartless thing in the world making them happy...


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

nightlight1220's picture

I don't think people are

I don't think people are stupid. I think they sre just programmed through their conditioning to make poor choices.

.thanks for reading...great to see you writing again.

 


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

a.griffiths57's picture

    I think most people are

 

 

I think most people are programmed to see the wider scene, society programms us in a far more limited way. But a persons natural abilities/gifts are theirs come what may.


 

 

http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57

nightlight1220's picture

Yes indeed. ..thanks for

Yes indeed.

..thanks for reading.


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

bishu's picture

I wonder where the You I went when I brush my teeth with ashes s

I wonder where the You me I went when I brush my teeth with ashes spent.Very nice to read and think about.Particularly love the setting of the ....(can I call them stanzas):)


©bishu 

 

nightlight1220's picture

Hi Bishu. I would think you

Hi Bishu. I would think you would have chewed on neem.

 

There is a kind child in everyone...i know this. My fascination with how so few grow into adults that are kind is what has always intrigued me. Staying focused upon what i know is there, and what was put there as a result of lack, however, is what sustains my own. 

 

Still, all things considered, as Don Miguel Ruiz might say.."it is their dream".

 

 

....


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

bishu's picture

Neem indeed makes the teeth gleam ROFL

Neem indeed makes the teeth gleam ROFL ~Yaz~Neemtwig


©bishu 

 

nightlight1220's picture

Yes...don't get those twigs

Yes...don't get those twigs stuck in your fangs, p.s.

 

I have to go. Watching our president right now... 

-peace-


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "