25 April 2017

Undeserving


If a person was born into a bad situation, a bad family or such, one would be more inclined to say that the child victim deserves a chance, deserves more, deserves a life, etc.  Quite often, the person making the comment has their reasons for not checking back to see how the child was doing.


Fast forward in the child's life, to when they turn 16 and the situation never did get better for them, but none the less, the child has persevered and done the best he could have done with the life he was given.  He was on the streets and needed a place to stay badly.  He was hungry, but continued to try to succeed in school, going as much as he could.  The school social worker notices his irregular attendance and contacts the child's parents, and they make up lies to cover their situation, but still leave the kid hanging onto nothing.

Many of the people who have previously made remarks about this young child needing a chance, walk past him every day now, and make rude comments about his hygiene.  They often murmur to one another, wondering what this kid's story is, but they never asked.  They just continued to walk by and gossip about the kid or his parents.

Everyday is a brand new struggle for a homeless kid.  What makes it worse, is that many agencies will not help the kid without a parent's consent.  It is against the law.  Homeless kids either find a way on their own, or end up in the system - more often than not, mixed with juvenile delinquents.  They carry the stigma of their crowd.  By the time these teens actually reach foster care, they end up going from home to home, never quite achieving stability and a chance.  Some of these teens get tired of being at the butt end of everyone else's lives and either end up in a life of crime or end up taking their lives.


Before you know it, society has already black labelled this kid, his record only making him a target of law enforcement, despite the fact that this child was a victim all of his life.  It is because of the lack of love this child received from the beginning, that this child is targeted because no matter how happy this child is with his life, he will have to prove that against his allegations.  How would he even begin to know how to do this, when he has not a foundation to learn much of this with?  He may lack confidence.   Regardless of the outcome,  its just another notch on his belt of life, and just another twig in the lonely fire that burns within.



Now as a full grown adult,  this once homeless kid with no chance may have the minimal provisions in life, but nonetheless he is happy.  Suddenly people begin to tell him what he wants and why he is so useless to them.  They wonder why this would make him go away.  They judge him for living life the only way he knows how and put new labels to disgrace him.  He knows better, he's been there and has seen that already.  He knows the outcome in the long run.  But because of his humble beginnings, society deems him undeserving.


Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
Former Homeless Child
Voice of the People
copyright 2017

Six in the Morning

Eleven PM.  and it's about to be midnight, my friend.  second shift is coming to an end, and I'm going to see my beloved boyfriend.  
It's about time midnight rolled around, I've showered, dressed and let my hair down.  He comes to meet me in our designated spot.  Today is not the day for us to get hot.  His brother in tow back seat in the car, our romance tonight won't get very far.  

But that never stopped Shawn from finding a way, to put a smile on his girl's day.  He put Tito to drive, we sat in the back seat, and even though we didn't act out in heat, he gave me a plan that would make my life complete.  Said he couldn't stand to watch my suffering at home.  Said he knew how I felt, I wasn't alone.  Between us were too many stories of abuse and pain, but together he felt we'd become whole again.  The things we wanted from our future lives, was nothing of pain so we would be wise.  We'd build our own family, we'd realize our dreams, together as one, on a unified team.  He asked me about kids, and what I wanted from life, then he pulled out a ring and asked me to be his wife.  I laughed and I cried.  I squealed with glee, to have thought of our future coming alive.
We pulled in the house at approximately three, to celebrate with family and eventually sleep.
At six in the morning came the fatal knock of doom, and there were four of us passed out in the living room.  All jumped up in alarm at the urgent sound, and the men took to protect the women around.  Two shots fired when he opened the door, my Shawn fell forward, face down to the concrete floor.  My God, what have they done?  What did they do this for?
The bullet had riccocheted throughout Shawn's head, but surprisingly enough, he wasn't dead.  I stood by his side for eight long days, emotional torture, my heart enraged.  Left side of his brain just hanging out, my heart - a million pieces shattered about.
Shortly thereafter, my second dance with cancer, yet somehow I felt this time that wasn't the answer.  Another opinion would say something different. A heartbeat, a body, two arms, legs, and a head.  Something tells me this cancer was a baby instead! It was the one dream that Shawn asked of me.  He only asked for one baby.  He wanted a son that was named after him, from a wife he'd be forever akin.
Now after all of this I realized this beautiful nightmare will never be done, because the beauty of the nightmare is that I raise his only beautiful son.
Life has gone on, as does with time, but inside my heart, Shawn will forever reside.  I have our child to raise and that changed my life.  I learned how to be a mother, I learned about strife.
Thank you, Shawn, for what you've done for me, for being a part of my life, however short it seemed.. Thank you for our son, thank you for our dreams.  Thank you for all of our good memories.

Kahala Lei 
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2013

Uncertainty

It's nights like these that make me remain determined in life.  Everything in life is uncertain.  I'm not stupid enough to believe its just me.. these are the signs of the times.  Everybody wants to use the next person in life, to get where they are going.  The problem is that people are unable to admit the truth to themselves and others, somehow forcing themselves to believe that if they mask it with politeness, that makes things all right in the world.  Reality check: you are lying to yourself.

Admit it to yourself, folks:  everybody is in your life for either a reason, a season or a lifetime.  Accept that for what it is, and work with it.  There's nothing you can do to change that.  Life is full of uncertainty.. and that is one thing that IS certain!
_____________________
Written 28 November 2011 
Published 1 March 2017

Kahala Lei
Poet, Humanitarian, Activist
copyright 2017

He Tells Me

He tells me to write
He tells me not to leave his side
He tells me how much he needs me
But its all for personal gain
He tells me to love his Mom
He keeps me safe and warm
Then leaves me all alone
Standing in the rain

Either I wasn't enough
Or I was too much in size
It really doesn't matter
When in vain I stride

Too familiar of a story
Its pain I don't deserve
Its love I only wish I had
Before I wake up alone
Only to realize
It wasn't worth the pain
It wasn't worth my time
It wasn't worth my energy
It was nothing more than
False hope
Self Deception
The enemy was me

He tells me all his wants
He tells me all his dreams
But at the end of an era
He didn't ever love me

That look in his eyes
Must have been love lies
That spark in his step
Must have been in my head
The way they notice how
He says my name
Was gossip because
His words are not the same

He tells me things that
Pull me close to
A heart I'll never have
Just to blast my feelings
As though I felt something wrong

Choking on emotions
That I can only regret
He tells me I'm worth something
But for the skinny white girl
I get tossed aside
Like last night's wilted salad
What goes on in darkness 
Should be shown in light
But as for what he tells me
Something isn't right

Heart broken
Crushed on the floor
He'll tell me anything
To bring me back for more
Dangling my heart on threads
Crying alone in my bed
Wishing I didn't fall
Victim to what
He tells me



Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

16 April 2017

Sweet Symphonies


Melodiously stroking keys
Rhythms, chords and beats
Blending each tone
Sweet symphonies

Dew drop notes
Softly telling stories
Brazen hearts with petals
Crossing morning lilies

Singing sweet symphonies
Dancing candlelight
Scented nuances glow
Sweet symphonies tonight






Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017





Aloha Mo'omomi

Gentle kisses in the summer breeze
Whispering nothings, writing sonnets
Soaking in the full view of waves
Crashing upon rocky shores
Aloha Mo'omomi


Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

14 April 2017

Lavender Wishes

Grace fallen from trees
Leaves of every shade of green
Soft petals of immensely sweet aroma
Pale glow imprinting 
Shaded lavender wishes
Capturing lifetime's lost
Kissing gentle breezes
Beneath rosy horizons
Heaven.




Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

Messaging Depth

Spiritual cognizance awakening
Discernment on the rise
Encrypted souls masked in messages
Advising sheep to open their eyes

Realize perpetuation of righteousness
Natural splendor cornucopias flow
Restoration within unification
Of enlightened vibration.

Source rooted answers
Ancient agendas revealed
Empowerment cries from
Corners of galactic fields

Analytical prophecies consist
Supernatural accuracy colliding
Enforcing evaluation
Consider yourself.



Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017


Dawn of a New Journey

Wisdom dwells within her
Marking every notion on her mind
Carefully piecing together ideas
Becoming processes of reality
Proverbs falling upon
Deaf ears.

Beauty radiates light
Within her soul, waiting
For tomorrow's promise
As the night moon awaits
Sunshine to arise.

Hope marks her final thought
As her eyes begin to fade
Into the depths of a dream
Providing visions of life
Seeping through darkness,
Everlasting faith.

Nuclear bombs awaken victims
People crushed beneath tsunamis
Economical slaughter faces
Imaginary dollars as the skies
Mark the end of an era
Clouds of division.

She cried out
But nobody heard her.

Distant voices unravel prophecy
Echos of a thousand years
Children writhe in uncertainty
She prays to no end
Change is coming
Lava flows.

Spiritual defiance creates
Bonds of common unity
Dissent gives way to revolution
Her people must survive
Unity on the rise.

Repent, wisdom calls
Gain understanding, as protection
Decimated souls pulling, pulling
All money is corporate greed
Contracts urge immediate signatures
M - K - U on 5G networks
Eradicating consciousness
Worldwide genocide.

Promises lost in safaris of
Genetically Modified storms
Planetary systems shaken
Man creeps from bushes unharmed
Life having been spared.

Rejoicing, he shouted
But nobody bore witness.

Testimony of magnitude great
Perished or cherished, 
Prophecy fulfilled 
Era of old world written
Her face arises, bringing
Hope, life, love, content
Flower petals brush her gently
Under afternoon sun, crisp breeze
Carrying scents of promises fulfilled
A new journey awaits.
 


Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

11 April 2017

Crystal Ice Drops

As crystal ice drops
Melt my people away
I stagger beneath tidal waves
It's choking my heart, I cry



Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017


Source the Root

Ancestral knowledge 
Runs the course of my veins
Hollowing shallow existence
Of questionable times

Filth laden streets line
Urban jungles asphalt
Concrete survival skills
Packed in a 9mm banana

Escaping dark reality
Where green jungles roam
Toxic poisonous air
Asphyxiates premature lungs

Providing balanced genocide
11pm Saturday visits with
American EPA
Environmental Protection Agency

Protecting you from what environment?
Poisonous minds, childless cradles
Genetically modified nutrition
Without a label

Formaldehyde sucked from bottles
Smoked by street zombies
Consumed by the innocent
Preservative of the dead

The end of the era is near
Do you hear time crying?
Is your American Dream
That satisfying?

The question is:  When do you suppose we start that change?
              
They always told us 
Look to the source
To find the answer
Child, look to the source

They talked about our roots
R - O - O - T - S, roots
What is the source, my friend?
My sister? My brother?

Roots is the real cause of the problem
Roots is the origin in which you became
Roots should be your everything, because 
It's in the roots, that we find the answers.

Saturday wouldn't have been a nightmare, if
Thursday night never happened, if that
Didn't remind me of what happened before
The core of my problem's very existence.

So Thursday and Saturday
Could have been prevented if
There was not a prior trauma
Tearing at the pain stricken heart

Fears and failures derive from
Historical shame.
The very shame we are trained to believe
Generational curses inflicted 
Upon the innocent
What do we get
Outside of generational regret?

Ancestral pride
Know your roots
Never forget where you came from
Who you are, or
Where you're going
But look ahead toward
Goals decorating horizons
Glory drizzled across slices
Of humble revolution
Remember who you are
Remember where your blood has been
Before you were created
Cautious not to make the
Mistakes of your former self, your
Historical Me

Honor your ancestors
May peace be upon your spirit
Shed light upon your surroundings
Most of all, love your journey
Listen to your instinct
That voice within
Is the voice of the
Most High



Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

              

Champagne Tears

What did I know of
Champagne tears?
Nothing until now


Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

10 April 2017

Russell

From almost every moment together
To a lifetime of years apart
I can still feel your pain
Tearing through my heart.

I miss my right hand man
The warrior by my side
Who wouldn't let me fall
Strength that didn't let me cry

I miss my midnight confidante
3am partner in spaghetti
6am and rising strong
Working, creating all day long

Recording, revising
Source arising,
Never compromising
Value of life

Russell, always dear to me
Whether near or far to me
A bond never meant to be broken
Through me, your voice 
Will be spoken.

I love you Brother
I will speak for you 
Until our souls cross again
You're forever my first
Best friend.



Kahala Lei 
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017

Historical Me

History has taught us all to hate ourselves.
Its forced us to take a deep look within 
Comparing ourselves to that of our ancestors
And we should always do better than them
Because we evolve with time
As a people, as a society
Realize ancestors called 
Historical Me

Powers say to follow law of man
However Creator Most High says
Follow Laws of the Land
Life can thrive when 
Love survives
Nurture your
Historical Me

One day you'll be gone and
None of this will matter, but
The legacy left behind.
In a future state of time, 
You become  
Historical Me

Namesakes are to keep alive
Spirits of Historical Me
That in a future time could
Rekindle upgraded souls
Evolved throughout ages
Historical We
Becomes tomorrow.


Kahala Lei
Blood Money Poets
copyright 2017