Here We Are Not

I am years away from you now;
a distance you never desired,
and I never resisted.

I dare not say I love you;
I would hardly even know you.
Yet, I still find myself longing.

Held in the echoes of moments,
fleeting, yet touching reality closer
than many, more purposeful memories.

Your face terrifies, and excites;
burdens, and relieves;
awakens chaos and harmony.

I wonder if these moments ever find you;
break your defenses the way they break mine.
I wonder if our echoes ever cross paths.

Years of possibilities lie dormant
under heavy eyelids;
an impossible distance, in the blink of an eye.

-Alisha Jael

 

Undying

Cancerous thoughts consume;
I feel like I should vomit;
purge this sickness from my gut,
pour it out for all to see,
as if, bearing my disgust would free me.

I am diseased;
no desperate act will cure me.
Yet, weakness whimpers through the pain,
begging acceptance.

I inhale the stench of rot and say,
no, never, I will not.
To live a lie is to exist undead;
remain awake, unfulfilled, unchanged,
while hope disintegrates.

I shall with sickness unto dust become,
until weakness begs not acceptance,
but forgiveness.
It is then, I shall be… reborn.

Swallow

I twist the childproof top
off my bottle of failure,
place my shame at the back
of my throat,
and swallow my disgrace
with a swig water

This is what I have become;
a small, round, green,
end to feeling

numbness

apathy

Waiting on change to come,
saying “tomorrow I’ll be strong”
Yesterday, I said the same,
but today… I’m still tired

So I twist the top back on
and put away my failures,
one less than yesterday,
until tomorrow

-Alisha Jael

Transmutation to Transendence

Stepping on cold stares
as the icy glare of universal
awareness cuts through

Sharp pains intensify
as dormant minds awaken from
a frostbite state of reality

Frozen thoughts transition
finding warmth too tempting to deny
though thawing is risky

Too much, too fast, could
terminate the possibilities
not enough could end the same

Confining cubes crack
melting minds find themselves
alive in the after-thaw

New crystals form in patterns
envied by dying eyesicles whose
frozen lungs still long to breathe

Frigid thoughts defrost
in evolutions of heat
releasing freedom

Inhibition steams impatiently
rising on transmuting winds
anxious to reach heaven

-Alisha Jael

Reading Traffic

I keep clamoring to comprehend
this constant stream of words
that fills my head like big city traffic.

I hear the hum like rubber to pavement,
every one headed in its own direction,
each following well-worn paths,
on a journey to reach their destination.

All this movement reads like noise to
those who aren’t familiar with its sound,
but for some of us, we wouldn’t know
what to do with the silence.

So steadily, we contemplate translation;
deciphering the message of motion,
as we wonder exactly what all the horns,
and wheels, and doors, are trying to tell us.

-Alisha Jael

Manic Mood Music

Melodies arise within
awkward noise
creating curious sounds
that mimic words
Manic mood music
for the psychologically enhanced
Rhythms that inspire
dormant tendencies to wake
breaking bad habits of
routine acceptance
while playing with
the possibility of adventure
This is where it all begins
where thoughts
become notation
become inspiration
become poetry
This is where sound
meets silent understanding
breaking barriers with
beats that vibrate
on levels finite wisdom
has yet to comprehend
A perfect blend of
harmony and mystery
paradoxically comprised to create
a symphony of madness
a poetic masterpiece

-Alisha Jael

Spirit Sounds

Voices bark with the tongues of demons,
telling me I’ll never be more than I am,
more than I’ve always been
The sounds set my ears on fire,
threatening to engulf my brain
if I can’t find a way to make it stop,
so I strain to find a hint of something different,
a sign that the dogs of defeat could possibly be wrong
I know, somehow, that
musical notes laced in angelic harmonies
play songs of transformation,
but it is unlike any music known to man
It is hidden in the silence,
and only those familiar with the languages of God,
will know how to listen
Only hearts that are open to their
own limitations will ever transcend
within its transparency

I sing a song I never knew, I knew,
and in my confusion I grasp onto
words and try to translate them
into nonsense I can comprehend

We are everything and nothing
our infinite energies charged to
defy our personal gravities,
if only we’ll let them.
If only we’d stop getting lost in
our fears of deathly chatter,
and sing, no matter how out of tune,
with the notes that only spirits remember
We are as small as our vision
We are as capable as our voices
We are as worthless as we believe
We are a choice
Everything and nothing
clothed in the flesh of existence,
holding eternity in our pocket,
next to the shiny copper penny
we picked up for luck

-Alisha Jael

Simon Says

voices chanting
in melodic chords
of change
resonate behind
gargoyle styled eyes
etched into
stone cold souls
groping fearfully
at possibilities
beyond perishable delights
fingers fantasize of hope
barely grazing
its undressed flesh
as leaders preach their
stories with no morals
forces of habits
enslave
paper-mâché hearts
bodies
burning like the
fifty stars
in our American dreams
blazing hot enough
to cook the golden
calf on this
alter of transmutation
spinning whimsical
merry-go-round amends
to so called friends
who take the very
change
from our pockets
lined with seams
sewn by children’s hands
too weak to raise
their melodies
in accord with
the hypnotic noise
that resounds
from those whose
greatest suffering
is felt in profit loss

-Alisha Jael

Perpetual Poetics

Some people
may try to tell you
that poetry is a lost art
but I don’t think it’s lost at all
I believe that poetry
knows exactly where its going
I think it has a plan
it has been relocating
searching
yearning to find a new place
a new home
somewhere among the
changing faces
the un-segregating races
and the un-dividing nations
For we are slowly.. but surely..
blending into one another
see poetry is like
a stream of consciousness
it is constantly re-birthing
mutating
turning into new forms of being
it is… poetic evolution
like the yin ends and the yang begins
it is simply making room
for new generations
with new voices
singing new songs
in the unsung tunes
of peace, freedom,
and all that idealistic stuff..
yes to me
the art of poetry
is like the death of a beautiful, shining star
it’s not what it seems
see it never truly ends
it just explodes into a new beginning
into super hot,  supernova energies
changing the elements
of our universe with its
glorious cosmic powers
and then…
transforming once again
it becomes the unknown
the greatest mystery of all
the black hole
drawing all things
into a place
none will ever truly know
and then someway, somehow,
it re-begins
forming atoms from dust
just as this world
this reality
once birthed us
see poetry
cannot be lost..
for it is the beginning
the end
and everything in between
its essence is present in every molecule
of every particle
of every plane
of existence
it is the oracle of our origins
calling to us
from the corners of our creation
from the roots of our realities
from the seams of our souls
and it is waiting
wondering when
we will come to understand
that it is
not poetry ..but us..
who are lost
for you see
we did not create poetry
poetry created us

-Alisha Jael

A Vision and a Prayer

It was hopeless
my view was lost
broken
like cracked glasses
that you wear because you
didn’t prepare for the worst
there were moments
quick chokes on false hopes
thinking I could be free
problem is… I already was
I just couldn’t see
so desperately
I prayed to God to give me sight
to help me fight for
what was already mine
find strength to say
goodbye
to my impossible mind
but God refused
told me …sight is useless…
purpose isn’t where… it’s why
He gave me vision instead
and said
see.. you’re free
and I was

-Alisha Jael