Humanity of Evil

My task will be to talk on evil,
What a daunting predicament I have put myself in,
Evil,
Such a short word,
With the utmost power
Such a complicated matter,
Of descerning what this force is,
How it is manifest,
And from who and or what it originates,

I cannot subscribe to the school of original sin,
That evil was originated via exercise of free will in a foreseeable folly of curious innocents,
I cannot see evil then placed blame on one gender for the flaws that would have been subject to any other curious innocent,


No,
Evil is a force that exists in possibility of the loss of good,
How is good known without the existence of it’s anthesis?
For this reason I see that evil has always been a part of the scenario, even if in the shadows,


Evil,
The word stings off the tip of the elevated tongue; curved like a snake’s,
It calls to mind images of most horrific atrocities,
And yet,
From evil one may always be amazed,
By the shape of which it may take,


Evil,
We talk about it in hushed voices,
As if in whispers it won’t find us,
Won’t be capable of coming from inside us,
Evil,
That which we imagine as horned entities,
Demons,
For recognizing the humanity of evil is too harsh to bear,
Recognizing the capability of innately innocent beings corrupting with time and influence is hard to swallow,
But if we can become this othered evil, surely there is room to become something better,
Surely there is redemption,
Surely there is still good, better, in this existence,
Perhaps too ordinary to see against the backdrop of horrible evils,
Perhaps we should look closer, deeper,
See what evil wants us to miss,
See the good that shines just as bright,
That heralds songs of light,
Like the presence of new birth,
The rebound of innocence,
In a world already scarred by evil,
Innocence and it’s goodness serves to heal.

Beloved Siblings

Lead weighted hearts hear the names,
Of beloved trans siblings slain,
Heads bowed low,
We are “a gentle, angry people”,
And we sing,
We sing for them,
We sing to them,
Their beautiful lives too early taken

Is this our world?
Do we accept it?
That one’s true identity,
Should get one killed?
That one’s self-love should mean the end?
“Enough!” We shout,
To murdered and missing,
To disrespected pronouns,
To the slippery slope of hate,
To ignorance ending their fate,

Gentle, but angry,
Mourning, but strong,
We gather here to honor the lost,
To vow for their dear memory to live on.

Without the Name

This is war,
Without the name
It’s always been,
The slow erosion of their land,
Of their ways,
Their rituals,
Their families,
Their communities
Their lives

This is war,
Without the name,
Declared through false handshakes,
And broken treaties,
Declared through smallpox blankets,
And stolen children,
This is, was always war
Without the name.

Differences

He sees the difference,
Between us,
In our views,
In our tastes,
In our skin,
And he celebrates
Out loud,
Letting it slip off his tongue,
But I was taught we are all the same,
But I knew we were different,
But I just saw beauty in it,
How I envy his missing social mores,
That allow him to verbalize
What I was reared to keep tucked under tongue,
I want to learn,
To be like him,
To identify the differences and make them known,
For their existence is a secret,
We all pretend not to know,
Free my eyes to see,
Free my voice to speak this truth
When it need be,
For as I know,
In this difference,
Is human beauty