Erica Borges, 8 november 2012
A Choice
Better to lack food
Than to lack truth.
Rather perish in body
Than in soul.
Better to walk naked
Than to walk empty.
Rather be silent
Than to speak falsely.
Better to accomplish nothing
Than to achieve no virtue.
Walk for Shelter
Each of one!
One of each will,
Will walk!
Some up, some down, some inside…
The hill.
Millions of flags will flutter in the wind.
Swinging pieces of cloth on plastic sticks.
And the division of territories,
Will keep each group in a box.
Tiny boxes.
Big boxes.
Tiny boxes next to big boxes.
Some boxes will have no box next to them.
Some boxes will be in the shape of a boot!
The ones who walk down,
Will be the ones swinging their flags!
Each with an individual flag.
Made of cloth and plastic.
The ones who walk up,
Will have a big flag!
Made of silk!
To place on top of the hill.
So the rest,
Each individual flag included,
Will know its place.
And the ones who walk inside,
Will have no flags.
No division.
They will be free!
Houghton Lake
The large body of water
Surrounded by man-inhabited land,
Lays quietly in its depth.
But once a year,
Uninvited guests cover the surface
And quietude sinks into the sand…
Uncontrollable laughter,
From inebriated mouths,
Contaminate the air.
Boats, simply traveling…
…As cars do,
Drip their fuel.
To let the waters know,
Which animal's been there.
Buy Happiness
Oh the ones who care for dress
And read books on happiness
Extend their arms to touch glass
That separates them from the price tag.
Habit of absolute no harm,
They say,
Where the subconscious lies remain.
No harm in buying happiness,
They think but will not say…
Not even common wisdom
Fits in a programmed brain.
The Toombstone
I saw a toombstone
Lockated in a garrden
Behind a white mantion.
And on it,
The letters T R U T H was marrked.
Exactly in that orrder, honestly.
And the toombstone was not nicely kept.
I say this be cause it was coverred…
In dirrt.
Like dusst,
On a book no one everr wants to read.
So I'm shur the people in that mantion,
Don't spend much time out side.
Be cause if they did,
I'm shur they woold clean that toombstone.
I'm shur they woold.
1 percent Small Souls
Arrogance,
The epitome of ignorance,
Lives in the eyes of those
Who have small souls.
In which a mansion,
Can't compensate for.
Everything that is created
By the small souls,
Is tinted with arrogance.
They don't know how to create.
They can only project division…
Continents, countries, states.
What a sad world for those
With estranged souls.
They don't know any other way to be.
As a baby doesn't know how to speak yet,
A small soul doesn't know how to create beauty yet.
1 percent Small Souls II
'Invest in the future! '
They advise you.
Invest in your death bed!
They despise you.
They…
The king, the queen.
Their ego splattered on currency.
Their fine cuisine on a silver platter.
Oh, small souls…
We're not angry anymore…
We're beginning to feel sorry…
Because your story ends here.
And our souls will live on…
You are weak, small souls.
'In God We Trust'
I wouldn't be so sure…
God is with the oppressed.
There is no room for God,
In a mind filled with greed.
1 percent Small Souls III
Understand that
Without possessions,
They will be naked.
And it would force them,
To have a personality.
It would redirect them,
To good.
So do not attempt to do,
What they would.
Physical force,
Separates you from good.
And you no longer would have it
By your side.
Alien Perspective
For humans,
Life is a strange process.
Many of them find excitement,
On certain days marked on their calendar.
First, they divide themselves into groups.
Each celebrating on different dates,
This thing called 'Holidays'…
All according to a single belief system.
Yes, they all believe in the same thing.
The belief system is based on one emotion.
Yes, that…
But they believe it's not enough,
So they divide themselves.
Each group believes in a variation of this single belief.
No, they don't see how it's all the same.
They even kill each other over it.
It's truly an abomination of the mind.
Why do they continue with the absurdity?
Well, the humans who are the worst out of the bunch,
Control the rest.
So they seem to not care about analyzing their own mind.
The larger bunch of humans even came up with a saying…
'One bad apple spoils the bunch.'
The entire race seems to know this,
But they keep trusting the 'bad apples'
To make decisions for them!
It makes absolutely no sense.
Let's go back home…
Alien Perspective II
The mind of humans today?
Oh, yes…
…sometimes I forget they have one.
They have put a stop to evolution…
Yes, I am serious.
It seems that they decided to regress.
The 'bad apples' trick the rest,
Into believing they can't take care of themselves.
So they all keep a very immature mind.
And when a human does reach maturity of mind,
They see him or her as a saint.
Believing they could never achieve this type of mind.
It is sad…I agree.
The little helpers we sent them are thought to be bad.
The fungi that helps their minds evolve…
The 'bad apples' made it a crime to eat them.
I tell you, it's a situation of complete absurdity.
Alien Perspective III
Books…
They have a bunch of those.
They have creative books…
And instruction books.
The instruction books are predominant,
In this big institution called university.
It is not helpful at all to humans,
Because these books guide bodies…
Not minds.
They are under a master mind,
With the wisdom level of a two year old human.
Why do they continue to obey it?
The reality of this immature mind,
Has become the reality of all.
How an immature mind does it all?
It spreads itself through light.
Yes…
Darkness disguised as light…
A plague for the mind.
Alien Perspective IV
Oh yes,
They have computers.
But you see…
They are using it as a mirror.
Correct, a mirror.
Mostly the younger humans…
This place in their web called
Face Book…
I guess the name is appropriate…
This place in their web is like a mirror.
They stare at their own faces projected on the screen.
But they don't realize,
That they could use the computer for their advantage.
Yes, exactly.
But they just use it as a mirror…
Just staring blankly at a mirror…
Consequence
Where are the ones,
Who have woken up?
I feel so lonely…
I feel so lonely…
My mind is relentless,
But my heart feels the absence.
It is lonely…
It is lonely…
Consequence II
In a male dominated society,
Women go hungry.
They look behind buildings,
Inside of buildings,
On top of buildings…
And all they find,
Are humanoids in a suit.
The gardens are empty…
No more men for women.
No more real human men…
So labels have fallen…
And women find peace with each other…
Humanoids…
One more plastic creation of the small souls…
It is not enough for them to pollute mother nature,
To take lives,
To speak falsely…
No.
They had to turn men into humanoids.
Leaving us women alone…
Single travelers,
In this illusionary cemented life.
Will
On top of a flower,
I will examine its lines.
On top of a flower,
I will make it yellow and blue…
Coloring under the moon.
My eyes will be…
My body will be…
My mind will be…
Only love will be unchanged…
Love only.
Written in August 2012
Erica Borges, 8 november 2012
Book Opens
Several upon a time,
In the shadowy, cold sphere
Observed maliciously a people.
Sensing a heaviness in their minds,
That spread through entirely.
However,
It was in one corner only.
On the Verge
Silence.
The palpable cure
For a brilliant mind.
And patience.
The palpable solace
To acquire one.
In the Path of
Sensory lines
In the sense of, mine
Search for an answer
To the sublime.
Center of Earth
In the way of, me
Preach an answer
To reflection seen.
I stumble and wobble
Across the patterns…
Meet the me
Meet the answer.
As in Title
Round, the circumference
Satellite, interference
Interference, as in question
No, as in exclamation
The face of it, as in periods.
The space of it, as in one period
Assign
I used to carry a sign.
Thin as hair, brick in weight.
So many letters cramped,
In a limited amount of space.
It was sealed, stomped a stamp.
And concealed a thought exclaimed.
Nothing much, when much is nothing,
Merely leaves in pain.
Below the Nose
My mouth obeys.
No more than the rest.
Stationary it is
When not asked to kiss.
Dancing it is
When asked to.
Shaped
Cube, life in many.
Linen drapes
Case, staircase.
Sit v-shaped.
Fragile and heavy.
Stubbornness
Yours, not mine.
Mine, now yours.
Children's cry
Not mine, yours.
Inside cubes
Crashing on walls
Not yours, mine.
Lesson
Babies who scream,
First for victory!
Continue in speech.
A way to teach.
Babies who laugh,
First in way of silly,
Continue to teach.
Pupila
The black in eyes,
To see.
Massive, compact.
Universe in sky,
To see.
Universe in me.
Daydream
One more rest,
Into dreams I fall.
In my waking hours,
I dream, for all.
Hope in the form,
Of anew.
Closer to life,
Closer to you.
Written August, 2012
Erica Borges, 8 november 2012
Iris
You are so beautiful.
Look how detailed you are…
Iris galaxy surrounding the core.
The beauty is not far…
It is not possible to escape…
The beauty you are.
Oppressed Color
Dark layer on top.
Stronger than the light.
Hard to understand for some…
The natural courage.
But do not question what is…
Your dark beauty is not simply beautiful…
It is a gift from natural courage.
"Do Not Copy"
Find your own.
Do not be impatient…
It sits in your depth,
Waiting for your wisdom to arrive.
No need for envy.
When there is only beauty…
The beauty that awaits for your wisdom
To arrive.
Light
You work with it,
It works with you.
You choose it,
It has already chosen you.
To See
Another human…
A variation of who you are.
But if the mind is imprisoned,
It is not possible to see…
The pupil.
Written October 07,2012
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