372. Timeless Bond

We used to be good friends and confidants,

Yet just like us, youth grows old, tired, and weary;

It changes, grows gray, and wrinkles,

In the sun of the today’s we dearly…

Cling on to.

Remember all those days spent together?

Under warm summer skies we rode bikes to the wind…

Blowing carelessly with our hopes.

Now we can’t go back. We can’t rescind…

Our choices.

Think of me some day when we’re old and gray,

And this fast world no longer pulls us to and fro.

Give me just one small little thought.

Think of when we walked side by side and go…

Fearlessly…

Toward the light…..

K. Aldaya, 9/29/16

365. Blood

gettysburg_i59782

“Blood is thicker than water”, how I truly hate this line!

How I loathe those who use it (usually absent of mind).

How carelessly it makes claim of the specialness of some,

When any fool knows that we all originally came from one.

How no matter where you live now or the color of your skin,

We are all from the same parents. We are all simply: human.

If only we could look beyond the years which separate us,

And see that we all bleed the same…with no waters to divide us.

Our minds have become barriers to block us from this truth.

To make us feel all alone, in this vast ocean: aloof.

I wish we could stop saying: “Black, white, yellow, or red”,

And look upon anothers’ face to see only sister or brother instead;

But rather, humans build their walls to conquer and divide.

To place themselves upon thrones, and wage war on the other side.

Anything to exploit men’s fear of what’s unknown or different.

“Oh, a sharp nose knows the enemy’s nose is an inch left-bent!”

How ridiculous it all is…this endless self-destructive game!

Humanity, will we ever learn our lesson and find a more rewarding aim?

I pray that time does teach us things that we will not repeat.

That lessons learned will one day stick and each heart will beat,

To the drums of a unified dance of love and acceptance;

Where the drums of war no longer beat this sad and tragic dance.

Humans do not bleed water and they never have or will.

Humans they are all our family and they bleed the same blood still;

The blood that your ancestors bled upon the battlefields…

The blood which spilt to give you life, from the womb your mother wields.

From the fathers of your father, and the mothers of your mother.

You may argue all you want, but truth one cannot smother!

So this I say to human beings with ears in which to hear.

Never speak of thicker blood or be selective of ear.

Love and grant the kindness which you would like to receive.

It’s not that hard to be understanding, listen, and to believe…

In seeing the best in others, and never prejudging a face.

Oh God, if we could only stop focusing on differences in religions and race!

Put down your weapons children! Mother is weeping in her grave,

And father’s bloody hands clench the soil for each child no one would save!

“We all bleed the same blood”, how many times has this been said?

How many more times must we repeat the truth, before we are all dead?…

And time passes and forgets us, the children of the Earth;

The species which destroyed itself and spit upon its’ birth!

K. Aldaya, 9/5/16

Picture: “Harvest of Death,” the Battle of Gettysburg, 1863, from Gardner’s Photographic Sketch Book of the War; http://blog.chicagohistory.org/index.php/2009/03/gettysburg/

201. Blood’s Thicker Than Other Blood

International-friends

With resolve we climb our mountains,

Eyes opened to the sky.

Never stopping once to question why.

Duties of the generations,

Doubly bought and bled for,

And believed as more then old shed-lore.

Straight incoherent loyalties,

To people, thoughts, sights, sounds,

Delusions of what in life compounds.

Human souls are not possessions,

Or their labors and skin.

Not by blood, or purse, or condition.

Untrustworthiness with others,

Is surely ‘nough to drive,

Rebellion and logic into the head to thrive.

Respect, kindness, and clemency,

Should be the character,

Deemed to be valued in portraiture;

And for the ages handed down,

As presentation of,

What the word “family” means:  chosen love.

Love is not conditioned or set,

As some rigid mountain.

For love is lost when self-interest,

Is the only plan.

K. Aldaya, 9/25/06

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://blog.internations.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/International-friends.png