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Prescription

If only I was just like them.

Flying through times like leaves in the breeze;

I could enjoy life with ease.

Maybe even love the little things?

Wondering if my psyche is acting up?

Or is it acting on its surroundings?

Is it depression if you know what you're depressed about?

I mean there is a lot to be depressed about.

I have been thinking about the freedom of happiness;

Once the side effects are knocked out; 

And that sweet chemical kicks in.

Though I don’t know if it’s real.

Maybe the few things that made me happy will be gone.

I’m not sure if the things humans do are inhumane.

Or is it my mind to blame?

Maybe my perspective is warped?

Is it true I choice how I feel?

I don’t know if I should enjoy the little things.

Or maybe happiness is just too little?

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HEYYY!!! I’m super new to spacehey and so excited to meet everyone here :333 - here’s my poem, it’s 9 stanzas blank verse iambic pentameter because I JUST FINISHED MY FINAL SCHOOL ASSIGNED SHAKESPEARE BOOK EVERRR (at least for my college course, sigh)

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATATATED!!!

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            If I had nine lives,

I’d end the first in drowning’s cold embrace,

As water filled my lungs and stole my breath,

Each gasp a plea, a desperate call for air.

It asks a question you can't hope to know.

I'd drift away,

                         unanchored from my pain,

In that still silence, fear would have no place,

And swimming dreams would wash upon my shore—

Just this one life. 

         If I had eight lives, 

The second one, a battlefield's embrace,

Where purple provides loud and appalled right,

And sovereign hearts, against the darkness fight.

I’d find a solace - 

                                in everything I’d done,

The peaceful sky, soft whispers ease the troubled mind,

A moment's pause, a breath to gather strength,

And pray this fight will yield a brighter dawn,

                 And then a peace.

                 If I had seven lives,

I would not waste a moment, not a breath.

No longer would I chase the fleeting gold,

But seek the warmth, 

                                     that only love can give.

I would look for it in a lover’s eyes,

And in the gentle touch of loyal hounds,

The secret grace of fox upon the hills,

In autumn hues, of gold, and russet, red,

                   Then feel its glow.

                   If I had six lives,

This bitter chill that seeps into my bones.

This world, it holds a coldness far more deep

Than any sea, 

                        that claimed me in its depths.

The water offered peace, a final choice,

My heart is heavy with a sorrow sleep

I cannot feel the pull, the watery call,

The whispers that once soothed my troubled soul,

                       Now just the cold.

                     If I had five lives,

The chance to live and learn and feel the world,

How many deaths before the soul would shift,

And I become the creature - 

                                       dark and changed?

How many times could joy and sorrow fade,

Before the core of self was re-defined?

The wise have asked, and pondered through the years,

       In this life, I know. 

If I had four lives,

Tainted by the weight of previous mistakes

The ghosts of loved ones, lost and left behind

Haunting me, 

                 with broken battles of what's been

While shaping the person I have come to be

A fragile balance of hope and endless doubt

Wondering how I could have fought that fight

When I couldn't give my daughter's smile up

               Her day starts to break. 

              If I had three lives,

Perhaps in fields of quiet, sunlit peace.

Whilst I die, though, I'd stand beside myself,

And see the monster - 

                                     born of awful war.

It stood, a mimicry of all I am,

With eyes so like my own, a hateful gleam.

I thought the beast was something in my heart,

But then I saw, its visage was my face,

                   It looked at me.

If I had two lives, 

I sit reluctantly by waters calm and grey.

Engaged with "War," a figure I have known.

Our shared reflection - 

                                          in the river's grime,

A murky, tainted stream reflecting back,

The cruel insignia and battle cries.

My heart, a soldier seeking a new dawn.

His eyes were fixed on banners, trumpets, death,

            My eyes looked on.

        Since I only have this one life, 

I'd gather all the ghosts of lives I've known,

And wave their sorrows -

                                            into currents deep

I'd be the perfect father, strong and warm,

The leader, eyes reflecting storms of doubt,

A brother true, with waters soft and calm,

To be the fox's match, a lover swift.

I'd be the hideous monster born of war, 

But in this life, I failed to be them all,

                  And then I fell.

"I am the Thief" 

I watched you; you watched me with the blade at rest. 

I wondered who would get to be the first to see. 

Me?

Who would still stand to tell the lie?

I was the first to seize the chance, first to tell the lie, first to see.

Smiling I realized it was over how fast it flee to an end.

How did he die?

My neighbor's plea was it me or was it a common thief.

Common thief, why would it be me?"

Vida Loka

Ouvi gritos de alegria,

Mas depois, vieram os gritos de desespero.

Até quando essa geração vai entender

Que não passam de rato de laboratório?

Eu estudo. Eu penso.

Eu vivo sabendo dos meus limites.

Enquanto essa geração brinca, zomba,

E se acha esperta.

O governo sempre temeu a educação.

Ou oferece ensino fraco à periferia,

Porque quanto mais o pobre permanecer na tolice,

Mais fácil é enganá-lo com pão e circo,

Como Roma fez no coliseu.

Eu estudo pra questionar quando me negam direitos.

Estudo pra reconhecer minhas correntes.

Estudo pra defender meus ideais.

A briga não é aqui embaixo.

A briga é contra a burguesia,

Que abusa do pobre pra encher os próprios bolsos.

Estudo pra saber que minha terra foi roubada.

Estudo pra lembrar que o nome do meu país é Pindorama.

Estudo, porque essa é minha única arma.

Por fim, não se iluda:

Vida loka não é usar coisas ilícitas, beber e ir pra festa.

Vida loka hoje é ter inteligência

Pra não virar marionete de político corrupto

Ou burguês ladrão de liberdade.