One Rhythm

If the wind gets loud enough, 
when there are enough trees
 in the background,
then the rustling of the leaves begins to sound a lot like an ocean
and the back and forth rhythm of the waves

In the same way 
the sound of war
after so much of it,

when there are enough motionless bodies in the background,
begins to sound a lot less

like the ferocious pound of thunder

and more

like the gentle pattern of rain

Therefore,

If the wind gets loud enough
and starts to sound like an ocean
both of them
sounding the sway of rhythm -
the sound of back and forth
then you know even Humanity
who bears skin so soft
could start to become coarse

If the wind starts to sound like an ocean

you'll realise they both create waves
and that the motion of them sway
so both sides, eventually, see their light of day

Humanity is a wave

and just like back becomes forth

peace becomes war

But,

If the wind gets loud enough
and the wind and ocean
both start to sound the same
then just like the wind and the ocean
maybe one rhythm
is from where we all came

And maybe today we're ignoring truth

ignoring the cadence telling us 
we're all fundamentally
just a different form

of the same wave

just a different form

of back and forth

But one day we'll realise it

and no longer find ourselves standing

over the remains of those

who carried a different rhythm than us

and were regarded as an obstacle 
in our way

The House on the Corner (Spoken Word)

Also listen here

The House on the Corner

There's a house on the corner 
fighting not to be abandoned
But the residents inside are starting to dissipate in size
Every minute within it they feel they are losing what made them who they were

before

Its windows have slowly been fogging 
Causing the tenants to have difficulty seeing

the outside

The fog is blurring out everything

the only thing to be seen

being their own hell inside that house
Without a clear view they can't see into the distance nor

reflect on themselves

The door is starting to creek louder
every time it opens
It used to sound inviting

Hoping people would pop in without notice
Ready to showcase the passions past the surface of its porch
Inciting everyone to see what's inside
But now it's croaking

choking with force every instance it is swung aside
Ready to topple forward no longer able to stand up

against the weather coming towards it

The fence surrounding is starting to break formation
Ready to collapse under pressure
from the preventative measures taken

against certain animals stampeding inside the home
It used to be strong

could withhold an army of dark thoughts

with the security it gave off
Allowed those inside to focus their minds

on memories they relied on

Told them not to worry about painful memories
it'd fight them head on
But now these stampedes aren't letting bygones be bygones
They ride on hoping to take hold

of those creating a soul out of that home

The tenants living inside

are desperately trying
to patch it up to weather the stormy weather

They don't want it to die

They tether together pieces of wood 

Tethering together reasons to be alive
But every once in awhile a storm severs
everything they built up high
As if a house made out of bones

is now made of feathers

Delicate to even the mildest weather

There's a house on the corner of Cranial and Spinal Cord Drive
And they're desperate to survive 
Every part of them damaged beyond recognition
because someone thought they could be renovated with a drug addiction
     And now an SSRI is the only way

to let the wallpaper reflect the sunrise

     Their eyes are windows hoping to see a future for themselves

but with a blurry sight

they can only clearly see their own demise

     The frontal lobe is a door that won't articulate their thoughts any-more
hoping to one day be restored to a condition
where they can relay

their vision again

     The hippocampus a fence protecting the campus of happy memories

from interference of memories filled with sadness

and dread 

     The tenants paying rent are neurons protecting the house's head
but losing the fight to an external plight 

affecting the emotional steadiness

 they used to feel

 An external pill killing them

but depending on it still

There was a house on the corner 
And it knew some houses found a restoring force

in a capsules work 
But that was a renovation this house

found out it couldn't afford

without also giving up who they were 

before