Poetry Book - Spider Web - Poem by Erica Borges
Better to lack food
Than to lack truth.
Rather perish in body
Than in soul.
Better to walk naked
Than to walk empty.
Rather be silent
Than to speak falsely.
Better to accomplish nothing
Than to achieve no virtue.
Walk for Shelter
Each of one!
One of each will,
Some up, some down, some inside…
Millions of flags will flutter in the wind.
Swinging pieces of cloth on plastic sticks.
And the division of territories,
Will keep each group in a box.
Tiny boxes next to big boxes.
Some boxes will have no box next to them.
Some boxes will be in the shape of a boot!
The ones who walk down,
Will be the ones swinging their flags!
Each with an individual flag.
Made of cloth and plastic.
The ones who walk up,
Will have a big flag!
Made of silk!
To place on top of the hill.
So the rest,
Each individual flag included,
Will know its place.
And the ones who walk inside,
Will have no flags.
They will be free!
The large body of water
Surrounded by man-inhabited land,
Lays quietly in its depth.
But once a year,
Uninvited guests cover the surface
And quietude sinks into the sand…
From inebriated mouths,
Contaminate the air.
Boats, simply traveling…
…As cars do,
Drip their fuel.
To let the waters know,
Which animal's been there.
Oh the ones who care for dress
And read books on happiness
Extend their arms to touch glass
That separates them from the price tag.
Habit of absolute no harm,
Where the subconscious lies remain.
No harm in buying happiness,
They think but will not say…
Not even common wisdom
Fits in a programmed brain.
I saw a toombstone
Lockated in a garrden
Behind a white mantion.
And on it,
The letters T R U T H was marrked.
Exactly in that orrder, honestly.
And the toombstone was not nicely kept.
I say this be cause it was coverred…
On a book no one everr wants to read.
So I'm shur the people in that mantion,
Don't spend much time out side.
Be cause if they did,
I'm shur they woold clean that toombstone.
I'm shur they woold.
1% Small Souls
The epitome of ignorance,
Lives in the eyes of those
Who have small souls.
In which a mansion,
Can't compensate for.
Everything that is created
By the small souls,
Is tinted with arrogance.
They don't know how to create.
They can only project division…
Continents, countries, states.
What a sad world for those
With estranged souls.
They don't know any other way to be.
As a baby doesn't know how to speak yet,
A small soul doesn't know how to create beauty yet.
1% Small Souls II
'Invest in the future! '
They advise you.
Invest in your death bed!
They despise you.
The king, the queen.
Their ego splattered on currency.
Their fine cuisine on a silver platter.
Oh, small souls…
We're not angry anymore…
We're beginning to feel sorry…
Because your story ends here.
And our souls will live on…
You are weak, small souls.
'In God We Trust'
I wouldn't be so sure…
God is with the oppressed.
There is no room for God,
In a mind filled with greed.
1% Small Souls III
They will be naked.
And it would force them,
To have a personality.
It would redirect them,
So do not attempt to do,
What they would.
Separates you from good.
And you no longer would have it
By your side.
Life is a strange process.
Many of them find excitement,
On certain days marked on their calendar.
First, they divide themselves into groups.
Each celebrating on different dates,
This thing called 'Holidays'…
All according to a single belief system.
Yes, they all believe in the same thing.
The belief system is based on one emotion.
But they believe it's not enough,
So they divide themselves.
Each group believes in a variation of this single belief.
No, they don't see how it's all the same.
They even kill each other over it.
It's truly an abomination of the mind.
Why do they continue with the absurdity?
Well, the humans who are the worst out of the bunch,
Control the rest.
So they seem to not care about analyzing their own mind.
The larger bunch of humans even came up with a saying…
'One bad apple spoils the bunch.'
The entire race seems to know this,
But they keep trusting the 'bad apples'
To make decisions for them!
It makes absolutely no sense.
Let's go back home…
Alien Perspective II
The mind of humans today?
…sometimes I forget they have one.
They have put a stop to evolution…
Yes, I am serious.
It seems that they decided to regress.
The 'bad apples' trick the rest,
Into believing they can't take care of themselves.
So they all keep a very immature mind.
And when a human does reach maturity of mind,
They see him or her as a saint.
Believing they could never achieve this type of mind.
It is sad…I agree.
The little helpers we sent them are thought to be bad.
The fungi that helps their minds evolve…
The 'bad apples' made it a crime to eat them.
I tell you, it's a situation of complete absurdity.
Alien Perspective III
They have a bunch of those.
They have creative books…
And instruction books.
The instruction books are predominant,
In this big institution called university.
It is not helpful at all to humans,
Because these books guide bodies…
They are under a master mind,
With the wisdom level of a two year old human.
Why do they continue to obey it?
The reality of this immature mind,
Has become the reality of all.
How an immature mind does it all?
It spreads itself through light.
Darkness disguised as light…
A plague for the mind.
Alien Perspective IV
They have computers.
But you see…
They are using it as a mirror.
Correct, a mirror.
Mostly the younger humans…
This place in their web called
I guess the name is appropriate…
This place in their web is like a mirror.
They stare at their own faces projected on the screen.
But they don't realize,
That they could use the computer for their advantage.
But they just use it as a mirror…
Just staring blankly at a mirror…
Where are the ones,
Who have woken up?
I feel so lonely…
I feel so lonely…
My mind is relentless,
But my heart feels the absence.
It is lonely…
It is lonely…
In a male dominated society,
Women go hungry.
They look behind buildings,
Inside of buildings,
On top of buildings…
And all they find,
Are humanoids in a suit.
The gardens are empty…
No more men for women.
No more real human men…
So labels have fallen…
And women find peace with each other…
One more plastic creation of the small souls…
It is not enough for them to pollute mother nature,
To take lives,
To speak falsely…
They had to turn men into humanoids.
Leaving us women alone…
In this illusionary cemented life.
On top of a flower,
I will examine its lines.
On top of a flower,
I will make it yellow and blue…
Coloring under the moon.
My eyes will be…
My body will be…
My mind will be…
Only love will be unchanged…
Written in August 2012
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about Poetry Book - Spider Web by Erica Borges
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe