Poetry Collection 2

By Nightsong

 

Same Difference

Written 1-26-2000

A bit of forenote about this poem:  make sure to mark the date of its writing.  I spent a long time struggling with religion, struggling with all sorts of thoughts about who it said was going to Hell and how I couldn't understand why.  I've come to an understanding since then, and many of the words in this poem do not reflect my current emotions... but this verse still strikes me as intriguing, and perhaps even thought-provoking. 

It is in the day as I wonder

As I sit and wonder at this

Yet also, it is night

Daylight does pervade all around

But sad shadows stay in my heart

Donít misunderstand

No, do not

For in order for shadows to exist

There must also be light.

But for now, the shadows take hold of my thought,

Of the problems in the world

The world that is all around me

Within me and without

Yet I am not fully a part

I donít fully fit in

Not fully.

Yet, I almost donít want to.

I know my ways are good

And many of the worldís are bad

Yet when I think of the ďstatus quoĒ

The societyís normality

The ever-piercing secular doctrine

I almost wish I could be a part of it

For at least then Iíd be part of a whole

Something all-encompassing

Yet I know

I know that thatís not right

To wish to be part of the world

To be part of itís greed and itís lust

To be trapped in itís unholy sin

But I wish it anyway

For then, and only then

And only and only then

Will I be no longer alone

Only then will I be

Only then will I be part of many

For Ďaloneí is a sad thing to be

Why canít I remain who I am

And have others flock unto me?

Why arenít my ways good enough?

Do I not hate enough?

I though I did these too much!

Shall I remain as iron

My faith a strong armor

An armor against the world?

Or shall it prove to be as gossamer

Proving to be worthless

To make me anything

To be anything but a spectacle?

Ah yes!

Behold the undrunken one!

He shall not insult the wretched

He shall not curse the pure

He makes foolish attempts at Ďrespectí

And pretends he is better than us!

Yet I know

I know

This one is a sinner

No better than we, No, heís worse!

There is no purity within his heart

Only the light of a lone firefly

A single firefly in the deep dark.

Let us then hate him!

Insult him!

Curse his accursed name!

For in these things, perhaps

Perhaps, just for once

We might find our own peace.

They speak these things

And I hear them

And what can I do but feel shame

For itís true Iím merely a sinner

I deserve all their hate and their pain

But I know

I know something that they know

Something they know and ignore

The All-Father tells us

He tells us in his great Book

To hate none

Hate none

But to love all

To spread your blessings out over the world

And forget the cursesÖ

ÖAnd so it seems

I ignore the Word too

If in a different way

For even as they sin by cursing my name

The name of one they know not

I ignore the Ďforgettingí part

But such is the nature of the world

So perhaps Iím like them

Perhaps I am after all.

 

.

 

Ignorant

 

There is much I cannot understand

Much Iíll never do

There is much of the world Iíll never see

And people Iíll never know.

 

There is much of the universe Iíll never observe

Iíll find little beyond our blue sphere.

There is much of others Iíll never understand

So much So much so many.

 

It is beyond my comprehension

To think of others as myself.

To think they think like me.

Feel like me.

Itís overwhelming to think how many there are.

So many so many so much.

I will never see more than a bit.

 

Even if I lived for eternity

I would only touch the surface of life.

For this mortal coil is not our own

We cannot understand it.

We cannot.

 

It is beyond our reach,

And beyond our grasp.

We can never find it.

It is not for us to know.

At least not on this life.

Perhaps one day we will know.

 

Or perhaps even then weíll know not

Locked in an eternal complacency.

Faced with the glory of God

Will the mysteries of this Earth be forgotten?

I pray Ďtis not so,

For if it is

I will never ever know

What is life

What is itís meaning

And why are we here?

 

There is nothing to be found, perhaps.

Beyond even our eternal understanding,

We will be forever unknowing and uncaring.

This unlocks no secrets for me.

It merely makes me think all the more.

I wish I could have

                            have the secrets of this world.

Have them alone.

 

I wish that I knew it all.

I wish I knew enough to be considered something.

But I know nothing.

At least beyond our limited scale.

I am high in intelligence when compared to the other ignorant

For all of the world is ignorance..

All of humanity is foolish

Myself included in this.

 

It is beyond understanding.

It is beyond comprehension.

And so forever it shall be.

Locked away into eternity.

And even in eternity

We shall not look.

We shall not care.

We will wish only to forget this existence.

When compared with the glory of tomorrow.

 

Ever looking toward tomorrow are we.

For tomorrow lies understanding, knowledge.

It is why we wish for the future.

To understand that which we cannot.

To feel what a new pleasure shall be

To be past a period of ignorance.

Ignorant of pleasure, ignorant of pain.

It is all of life to look to tomorrow.

But tomorrow is forever eluding us.

For itís always a day away.

And thus we will never feel it.

Never taste that understanding.

For it is simply a carrot on a stick

To lead us on through time.

 

.

 

Nothing

 

Here I sit

Still alone in a crowd

Still forgotten in the scheme

Here I am

One in Many

And Many in one.

Alone in a room full of people

Screaming, remaining unheard

Here I was

Dying unknown at a party

Obscured from the memory of a Muse

An unmarked grave in a  cemetery

The grave of a person not known.

 

. 

A Select Group

2-14-2001

Another note.  For this poem, Iíd been struggling with my Christian beliefs.  Certainly, I hold my faith very dear to myself, butÖ what about every other religious system on the Earth?  To hear the words of my preacher, theyíre screwed simply because they were raised differently.  The preacher (and other people, really) say that this person should convert, then; listen to the teachings of the BibleÖ but if they truly believe they are right, and have been raised to think that, theyíre no more likely to convert than my preacher to their faiths.  

Is it true?

Does God hate you?

Because youíre not like me?

I canít believe

I wonít believe

That such words could be true.

 

Iíve heard some say

That those who pray

To Mary are Hades-bound.

Why?  I say

Whatís strange?  I say

For a difference so thin, so small.

 

I see just why

They say we die

Even with our good works.

But I cannot see

And will not see

How different ones are Hellbound.

 

Jewish friends,

Canít make amends

For thinking they were holy?

I canít believe

I wonít believe

Thereís truth in such a folly.

 

And I never will.

So let it be.

Amen.

 

.

 

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