Thunderous Echo upon Vacant Heavens

Echo and Echo...

it Echoes

You knew all this

before

You knew all this

as if

condescension 

somehow aids,

pacifies.

Heartache

stifles the fire

that burns and turns

and turns,

that viciously

and aggressively is

stepped upon, extinguished.

With an entrance, with a smell,

with a look, with a touch.

Push through with

Charlatan's smile.

The Phoenix

bathed in cinders

stranger to Rebirth.

Fire, from whence it drew life,

now suffocating, relentlessly

Choking.

A prisoner to its myth,

to the pages of its Creation.

All eyes watch.

All eyes cast Judgment.

All eyes turn away.

Gasping, now wingless,

Mighty Phoenix,

stifled by the clutches

of its own doing

Of the Echo and Echo

that Echoes

You knew all this

Before

You knew all this

But did you, in your innocence,

count on this?

© 2012 Philip Pryke

2014 © DNKG Thunderous Echo upon Vacant Heavens

Bound to Aged Narratives: One Lens into Multiculturalism - Poetry

The Cloth

Lights
burning,
sweat dripping
down
my brow.
From my pedestal
upon the rostrum
quenching the
fiery souls with
the expiration
of Genius:
thought to
pen to paper
to soul
of those
prostrate
at my
toes.

He stops me.
By the
EXIT door
he stops me.
"Sister, man
poet goddess...
Can I borrow your ear
for a short time,
just a time,
to bend your mind
to speak my verse,
a verse that
I think
you will want
to know,
to hear."

Upon a feeble barstool
in the recess
of the dimly lit lounge,
I acquiesce
to a beseech
of prose that clanged
of the streets,
of the knuckles of the
the pauper,
of the turmoil of
his people, stirring
up his racial, sexist
slurs of how
"you" will
"never understand us."
I hearken his
Rhapsody,
reverberating,
slowly reverberating
into every
scintilla
of my
Essence.

The thunderous hammer
of my feet hitting the
ground
silences his ballad
like the Samurai's
blade
rushing effortlessly
through.
I stoop down
and offer
my hand,
"Brother, let us
talk frankly,
in the sight
of the
guileless moon.
For Pain
is root
of this
Soul's
volatile
undigestable
croon."

Amber light glow
and lemon
scented air

floating Magnolias
the celestial 
black pair
Silent magic held in
ghostly Spanish Moss
breathlessy immoveable
over stoic waters edge
The resplendent
Oaks,
cryptic on human
loss
Finally,

encountering
first
light, pure,
irradiant
sensuously
beckoning for 
The first time.
Orbs of green,
or brown and blue
seeing,
feeling,
breathing,
innocent
curiosity.
Vision
imbued.

"Let me speak Brother,
volumes from my
heart, speech
and words lie
heavy.
Yet they, the
vehicles for our
start, musn't belie
the truth.
So
souls breath may
be reached,
so
souls blood,
intermingled,
assuages the Pain
deep within
the bowels
of our
strongholds.

Look at me,
orbs of chestnut,
searching,
mystified.
Look at me,
ringlets of seduction
Golden Reverie,
enticing.
Look at me,
lips of eloquence
existing
while simultaneously
expiring,
fearing.
Look at me,
a Caged Artist
creating,
so you
may free
me.

Oh Brother.
Can you see?
Be it not
my hair color,
my eye pigment,
the tone of my
Skin.
Be it not
the hue of my raiment
nor the shoes I frolic
abound
nor the vocalizations,
scorned and
involuntarily made,
from this
demarcated
dolorous
crypt.

Be it not
the land of my
fathers.
Be it not
land of your
mothers.

Be it not

the God of your heart

Nor the goddess of mine

Be it not

A land, a parcel 

Upon which we share

Given to Man

For all to share. 

Oh Brother,
if you could see
with my eyes.
Color does not exist.
Race does not exist.
Sex does not exist.
'-isms' do not exist.
Labels.
Useless
Labels.
My skin cannot
define my
world, it will not
define me,
it will not define you.
Can you see?

We. We. We are.
The woven cloth
co-created
by the same Divine,
dipped in different colors,
spread across vast Times.
See it, splashed with
heritage and beauty?

Feel how the
Breath of
tantalizing aromas,
stretching
across the

Four Corners.
Awakening
faculties
left in quiet
slumber from
lifetimes
ago.
  

Oh my Brother,
you may carry
a cloth of the South,
and I,
a cloth from the East.
Perhaps our yards
are separated by
eons of fabric.
Yet,
We. We are.
The same fabric
The same cloth
triumph, rejoice
embrace me.
Let us sing
dance in joy
shout our
prose,
high to moonlit
sky.
Let our feet tap
to the beat
of our internal drum,
Let our hands,
our bodies
swing and sway to
smooth beat
as we celebrate
our
Humanity."

© DNKG The Cloth 2014

Moving Through

Dotting across the earthen floor, as rain scattered from the heavens

across the painted backgrounds of blues, greens, and whites

playfully floating between limb and line

gracefully from one to the other without haste, slowly slowing 

the Inner drums rage, pulsating, ringing, screaming, yet steady is it

red clay and willowing tree bark are hiding grounds insufficient to its purpose

inch by inch, effortlessly beside the roots twisted, Devil's Beard scarred

resting but for a moment to ponder where is Now

though tousled by the breath of life, it remains steadfast

not fighting, but rather, accepting its movement

accepting the moment of weightlessness as a gift 

rather than a challenge to be challenged

moving as it moves, a harmonious dance between Lovers

quietly reminding that Change is the constant

Complacent: (Adj.) Self-satisfied and unconcerned

Complacent: (Adj.) Self-satisfied and unconcerned. 

This word has been used in and out of my vocabulary for many years now, without really dwelling on how "complacent" I truly am with my life. Is it the proper word to describe myself at this current juncture or would another fit more appropriately. 

Upon closer examination I find that I am 'complacent' with my life: I accept that I have made poor decisions in the past but realize that I can learn from them, use them as tools, and pass on knowledge on to other people. I am complacent with my current life success. I am complacent with my relationship: I have learned that he and I will never fully see eye to eye, but we have a deeper more conducive relationship due to openness. As a unit we fail and succeed and I couldn't ask for more. Life isn't perfect, so why should I expect us to be. 

What does it mean to be complacent... 

Reflection upon our country, nay our world's current state allows me to truly ponder the complacency of each individual, each family unit, or conglomerate.
Why does a parent devote so much time into ensuring a child picks up every single piece of trash in the bedroom, but fails to notice that their child is lonely, has no friends, and is on the brink of suicide? Why do families attack each other in times of tribulations, breaking down REAL support systems that should last a lifetime, instead of offering a shoulder to cry on or donning support? 

After observing and living throughout various relationships, and pseudo-friendships, here is what I have deduced: They support you when available, love you when it's convenient, and decide when to be loyal. Okay. I admit its a cynical outlook, but again, I question why anyone would want to be complacent with this type of situations. 

Relationships and friendships, or lack of, have made me aware that becoming vulnerable and open to someone doesn't guarantee their love, support, or lifetime loyalty. The people that you think you know best are the ones that surprise the hell out of you when they turn around and contradict everything they ever preached to you. Maybe I should be a little less complacent about my relationships… 

Friendships, love, families, loyalty, etc are all commodities that I as a human being have grown accustomed to and have taken advantage of. I have learned to see people in different lights, have learned to see the beauty of internal struggle, the courage to fight despite being outnumbered, and have most importantly learned to see life in a subjective lens. Nothing is ever black or white, not even life. We pretend to normalize ourselves by voting one party or another, being vegan or not, being rich or poor, being loved by one or none. 

I guess the real question is can we ever really be complacent? Constant fighting, making up, loving, hating, laughing crying...what makes something in life complacent? 

Am I complacent with myself? For the paradox is, if I were truly complacent with things, why would I be analyzing my thoughts, making little sense of my scatter brained ideas… Do my thoughts even matter? Why should I be concerned with how "unconcerned" I am about life? 

Complacent: (Adj.) Self-satisfied and unconcerned

Attunement

Breathing...

Fumbling for the right song on the iPhone that now functions as an iPod

Balancing the erratic dance I'm forced into by a four-legged partner

Clicking...Searching...Song...Blaring...

Arrogantly I trot around, meandering south towards the Forest floor

ignoring Life that surrounds me

She beckons, "Let go"

I laugh aloud and retort, "I have"

She asks, "Can you please listen to what..."

I raise the volume..."I love this John Mayer song!"

Guitar riffs and cymbals clash

Head bobbing, singing

Dog sniffing every branch, rock, bush, and stump

as if he would be filled with regret if one inch of Forest were missed

"Its so nice to get away and be alone!"

The music of Modernity attempts to drown out, block, numb me to the reality I avoid seeing myself in

I pass the ghostly hollows of the old oak

the lifeless limbs that hang overhead, eerily reaching towards me

as if trying to pluck me up out of the monotony

I stop dead, rigid on the path,

dust consuming me

...Pause Button...

Eyes open, ears open, heart open

Crows Caa, Bees Buzz, Hawks Screech, Squirrels Bark

I suddenly realize, I'm not alone. 

I pause myself. I look around. Present.

The dangers of the green and red leaves scattered along the water's shoulder

are hypnotic in their dance with the wind

Dry branches are devoured by the silky green foliage of the twisted vines

A canopy above me, filled with life in the changing season

Foot prints

Animal Tracks

Bicycle Wheels

hidden, beneath the dirt encrusted around my shoes

KNOCKING. TRICKLE. CHIRPING.

I hear the brook and see that it twists and turns throughout the floor, 

as though begging not to be swallowed up by the Forest herself.

The maze of Oaks, elaborate and dense, cause me to ponder the similarities

between its weaving patterns

and the intricacies of Life, the complexity of being Human, and

one's constant struggle to push towards Acceptance. 

Amidst my quiet solitude and intense reflection

a Doe

symbol of gentleness, listening, grace, balance, freshness, new awakenings

crosses my path.

I acknowledge aloud her presence and feel grateful for the messenger of Light.

I reflect on how many times this day, this week, this month, this year

how easily I took advantage of life's simple pleasures

rather than admiring, respecting, and thanking.

I began to see my life, unfold in front of me, in this natural wonder

The dirt continues to flail around my face

Dog panting as I take in the spiritual awakenings being given

I stop in my track...

Pulled towards the towering Eucalyptus Tree 

that stands naked, vulnerable before me.

I ponder on its current state, as though I were in an art gallery.

I smell its fragrance...intoxicating.

Shards of bark lie twisted, broken, and shattered all around its stong stump

I notice the pale white skin under the warped and weathered rind

I remark, "You're being reborn. Stronger. More beautiful"

Imaging that somehow, hearing my voice

would allow him to gather the strength necessary

to suffer through the Winter

Two steps forward...then two back.

I face my comrade and realize that he and I are on the same path

Compelled that I too must prepare for a rebirth, reawakening, rediscovery

Fear

"I can't do this alone"

Arrogance

"You are not that special. Change is the only constant"

Realization

"The trees change, its leaves change, the brooks course changes, winds change, life changes"

Acceptance

I feel roused by the accutely loud lullaby of the crickets hidden beneath the brush

Their song is comforting in that moment.

I press forward...

The sound seems to follow me. Maybe I'm following the sound. 

The symphony of thought is created by the rise and fall of my chest, the pounding of my heart, the shuffle of my feet, the cling of dog tags, and natures orchestra accompanying me.

Stirred

"Be the woman you've imagined yourself being"

Open

"Be humble, be kinder, ask for forgiveness, give forgiveness, be kind to yourself, love deeper"

Acceptance

"I can do this. I choose to do this"

Attunement

The seasons are changing, the first rain is approaching, cool air, winter's frigid snow

Life is changing, Life's healing rain will fall, broken, wounded, choosing to stand in the downpour

We are at one with each other

Together we change, Together we struggle, Unison

I ignored

But the Forest reminded me

That WE are one

...Press Play...

Loving your "enemy" is all about perspective

Sometimes, I despise my gift: One of my therapist's had told me that my "radar of empathy" is both a curse and a blessing. I did not understand the magnitude of her words at that point. However, I have over the last 18 months begun to really see and understand what she meant.

Watching my husband in and out of the court room has made me sick, literally. I have physically felt the stress that he goes through one's body. I have felt his anger and disgust. I have also added my own. I have felt his sadness and hurt when he is refused basic rights by a bitter ex. I can see and feel his love for his child when they spend a few precious moments together. It's at times like these that I most enjoy my radar, but right now the radar has me, well..feeling confused.

I've had the opportunity to be exposed to a woman who has, despite my disdain for her, become my greatest teacher. With her help, I have learned to make my highly sensitive intuition into a machine that is well-oiled, alert, and aware. Over the last 18 months, I have seen her hatred grow and intensify. I have seen her jealousy magnify over the last 4 months. I have experienced her fatigue and seen how it impacts her ability to think and act rationally. I have seen her need for control and felt how inadequate and insecure she must feel deep inside. Along the same lines, I have seen her push and push and push to help compensate for a "problem" that cannot be solved. Most of what I have felt and seen from her is anger and hate. But I recognize that hate and anger are only manifestations of her deep rooted emotions that she dares not free.

I can remember days and nights where I would imagine myself in various scenarios "telling her off". I spent days brainstorming with myself and my closest friends and family in trying to "understand " her. I spent nights consoling my husband over failed attempts to see his child. I spent nights soothing his rage at this woman's inflexibility, irrationality, and decision to hurt the one person they both care about.

The greatest lesson I'd worked on was "caging" her & her negativity all the while hoping that the "mirrors" within the cage would reflect her nastiness: catalyzing change. I can remember the frustration I felt when I first started this exercise. It lasted weeks. But, somehow throughout this whole process I felt my heart begin to soften.

I began to feel pity and sorrow for a woman I at one time could only feel anger for. I began to notice that I could understand her pain and struggle, but it in no means validated her decision to hurt other people; especially a child. I began to see beyond her anger that was directed towards my husband as her own self-loathing: that she hated herself so much that projecting it onto someone else made it easier to deal with. I began to see her jealousy over his remarriage as her not being good enough and of loneliness. I began to see that the anger associated with this jealousy was because she couldn't understand why "he" wouldn't want to make it work with "me"? I could understand how she might feel rejected, even though their marriage was far from good.

Again, this does not excuse her behavior. I merely am accepting that these things maybe a reality for her. So I imagined myself asking her: "Why are you acting like this then? Would it be so bad to admit that you are feeling this way? Why are you afraid to be weak? Vulnerable?" I'd like to do nothing more than hug her and accept her and tell her its OK to be vulnerable.

Having to accept these emotions she projected onto us was difficult. I consider it a life-long process; not just with her but with everyone. However, the most recent news has me at a whole new level. She sent a three lined paragraph to my husband which basically said that her mother had passed away and that she would respond later to the email. My immediate reactions went like this:

1) I watched my husband's response, "Babe, read this email." Facial expressions: uncertain, confused, was he smirking? I couldn't tell. I assumed it was bad news or more verbal assaults so he had to laugh it off, as we usually do.

2) I read the email: My response, "Oh wow. That must be awful. Her grandmother died earlier this year too"

3) I handed the smarten back, looked at my husband and said, "I'll send her a card" to which he gave me a very confused look.

I felt so much sorrow and pain for her. I can appreciate my husband's confusion and questions about why I wanted to send a card, especially for someone who has treated me as though I have never existed, who is vindictive to a parent to their child, and who actively works to destroy a child's relationship with his dad.

But, I felt so sad for her. That's it. I felt her pain. I imagined how I would feel if my mother died. I imagined how it would impact my family, my sister, my relationships...and my heart felt a deep anguish. I felt love for her. I never in my entire life have wanted to reach out to someone so much and give them my love then I do now.

I ask myself why? Why would you want to love a person who's soul is black? Why would you want to love a person who has no intention of loving you back, who only loves what she wants in the odd way that she does? Why put yourself in this position? The truth is that I can understand her as a human being. I may not like the decisions she makes, I may not like her as a mother or as a parent, I know that I do not like the way she talks about my husband or me. But what I can appreciate is her humanity.

It reminded me that while I may think she has some psychological issues that impede her ability to really Love, I can appreciate that struggle. It reminded me that often times we hate that which we do not understand, thereby closing ourselves off. I reminded me that LOVING THY ENEMY is taboo in our culture It reminded me that LIFE IS NOT BLACK AND WHITE. That loving is loving. And in order to know hate one must know love...especially if its for an enemy. Otherwise, it just makes you look ignorant. (Im starting to wonder if Hate is even real? What is it really? Different blog, different time.)

It has also reminded me that life really is a gift and its not to be squandered. As young children we bounce through life imagining that we are invincible, supreme and that we wont get hurt. As time and age makes us wiser, we understand how that idea was just a fantasy. We remember how hurt we can get from heart break, from lost jobs, from children screaming about their own pain, and the loss of loved ones (however that may look). It reminded me that life is so precious. That it really isn't worth going through angry. Sadness and joy will come. I feel that focusing on the happy time will improve our daily lives. Is it screwed up that my dog tried to pull me off my bicycle while chasing a squirrel? Yes. But is it hilarious at the same time? Heck yes!

Learning to love my "enemy," if that's what we are, has been the greatest challenge of my life. But it shouldn't be. After all, we're all human. I have things she can learn from. And I know that she has taught me. I can appreciate that. So am I really loving an "enemy" or is it about loving another human being who is struggling? I'd bet the town that its about the latter one. Even wrapping your mind around the idea of "loving your enemy" is hard. But wrapping your mind around the idea that you are loving another human being who is flawed, selfish, in pain and struggling just like you, is much easier.

I do not know what this pain, this extreme and sudden loss will change for her. If anything. But what I can say is that through this loss, she has taught me to open my heart to her more. I have learned with her help that she is not my enemy, just a person struggling; a person making bad decisions because of the rage she is blinded by; a person who shys away from Love, because of fear that it will make her look weak; a person who is afraid of failure, just like all of us; a person who is so wrapped up in her chaos that she cannot see any light beyond it; I love her because I know what it's like to feel those things. I love her because without my love, she may never know the love she can have. I love her because she brought my stepson into this world. I love her because I choose to. Simply put, I love her because she is human, just like me.

Virgil said it best, "Love Conquers all things, let us too surrender to Love" - Whether she surrenders or not, I offer it. That makes my heart and soul jump for joy. After all, we're all in THIS together.