Welcome to Silvera's Poems!

E A R T H B O U N D

As Heaven Is a Place on Earth It’s like the golden light of the sun cascading down upon dirty dishes. The sun embraces the cemeteries with new life every day. A fridge filled, not just with champagne and condiments. It’s a table with a feast before you. But your fork lies upon a distant feat, tucked away on the fray. Would you go astray? You watch. You wait. But will you ever receive it? If anything, I have learned that you will get your turn. Good things come to those who wait. Just make sure you are saving the right date. If you hesitate, you might lose your grace. Stick to your own pace. Never run an elitist’s race. Disillusioned, breaking out of my illusion. Can you see it? Can you hear it? Are you scared? Is anyone out there? Or is it just me? Circling down, heading straight for the ground. It is I- who I have found- Earthbound. As here, as it is in Heaven, Why do we all decay the same? Burned up by the same flame, all equal with no names, born in a golden time of rage. Misbegotten, feeling hella rotten. When will the rain come and wash the pain away? Safety is an illusion shattered by weakness. Trying to pick up pieces of a shattered past. Politics is as fragile as glass. Having bad opinions is like having a flat ass. I’d rather pass. Crimson shades of terror stain the dawn. All we hear are bullshit reasons. No wonder you can hear them crying out, “Treason!” Shelter without territory usually ends up pretty gory. Living in a horror story without any glory. How many will see tomorrow? Or end up as another news story?

U N E A R T H L Y D E L I G H T

Midnight blooms flowers of shadows, black, grey, and white. Unearthly delight, Modern strife, both day and night. Self-destruction shines so bright, like a moth singed in pain. It’s crazy how fast the world is spinning. Living and dying in vain, it’s quite insane. Nobody’s really winning; I can’t seem to see many faces grinning. When will we ask ourselves, damn, really, who is winning? Power and time are something that divides. In our homes, on your steeple, go and gather all your people. The lines we abide and obey, preaching empty words to dark, deaf and starving streets. There was a time I was free, naked, running in sun rays and moonbeams all the same. Wading in the water below the ancient evergreen. Time and time again, I ask myself when I will be free like the water and the evergreens? For 20,000 years, these waters waged on. Plenty of creatures do these waters here feature. The tide has turned and washed away all those creatures who stayed. Till and soot run a foot. Once a mirror, but no longer clearer. To all those creatures that dared to stray, were they spared to see another day? In 20,000 years, will the water war on?