RED - YELLOW - BLACK
This poem is a repose to the death of Mr George Floyd in Mineapolis MN.
So again tonight the blackness of smoke is rising to the heavens all across America. And Heaven knows the reasons.
The red is flaring, it is updated and hot. Nowhere is safer than the land of the brave and the home of the free. The crackle of flame illuminates my point.
Yellow is the conflagration, the heat is being drawn. Are the people being treated like they are naturally targetable? Is it inevitable, all this black death?
We saw it in horror, we didn't believe our eyes. A person being stifled, and no doubt not for the first time or encounter
And the fire and the mayhem are a self inflicted wound, a man is unjustifiably killed openly and on the street. Everyone is suffering on the inside. This is an ache for justice. Let the scales fall from our eyes. Everyone is precious, everyone one has a life to give, everyone has a right to live. Offer an open hand to lift up your brothers and sisters. Surely it is better to be blind then to judge another by the sight of their skin?
There is wrong, there are wrongs to be corrected. There are people and there are streets, there is much yet to do.
The Oxygen of forgiveness and equality of truth is the simple soul solution and the way of life is love. Each in self examination needs to help bring about all that is true.
Let's replace this red, yellow and black, with a red white and blue.
C G T Devon, England.
In Anamnesis. This Time (Will Never Leave You).
If the first thought was of love
The second must be of obsession.
There is no getting rid of these feelings
Liking or loving or contentment,
Neither is harmful,
You are not alone,
Or are you?
Love needs to be reciprocal.
You are living your feelings
So you are definite.
And the eyes have it to the right.
Now where is your head,
Where are your heels?
Submerged, you may forget to breathe.
Do not panic.
It’s just like palpitations.
Then there is the force,
Or rather the drive to consider.
You need to talk.
Don’t begin at the beginning
You will be a bore.
Just be like it is,
Countenance is measurable
Just be real.
Do not burst open,
Just blow your flame gently.
Rise up, but also know your limit.
If falling over your words
You are like a Prince, and charming.
Do not grip your heart
In a steel gloved hand,
Rather offer it openly as your gift.
You cannot lose
That which you freely give.
In truth your love is always present.
Love wonders a meandering path.
Your route to anothers’ heart is understanding that.
If you land on deaf words
Relax and touch your own heart.
Firstly you are misunderstanding your situation.
Secondly you are at cross paths.
You are kind but you are mistaken.
So leave your love to go.
Letting your lover go.
Is the hardest way.
In anamnesis, this time will never leave you.
© 2014-18 Christopher Thompson All Rights Reserved
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Speeding to the Horizon, an Infinity Dichotomy (Pt1)
There is little I would presume to dismantle
A plate of tectonic proportions for example.
Or a disjointed phrase.
Or a lucid remark
Or stroll along a parapet wall.
There would be great risk
Of failing or falling.
Here is the trap.
There is danger should it
Ever be sprung.
It begins with choices.
Who has the choice
At the outset, the beginning,
or in the twilight, the end of a life?
© 2018 Christopher Thompson