Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

Your lies were like wine, which blurred the lines of my reality  As I drank thirstily of you, I failed to see my city under siege.  Too intoxicated to retaliate and too enamoured to care, I became a ghost of a king, a mere shadow as I was hardly there.  Sobriety, though seductive, would have eliminated you.  So destructive of me to keep drinking when that was the last thing I should do.  Abandoned my awareness, replacing it with false comforts in the dark.  You were the only archer whose arrows would always hit my awkward heart.  Deserted by my disciples, autumn's leaves left the coldest winter when they died.  My screams could no longer be stifled, finally regained the strength to be immune to all of your lies.  New conscious eyes allowed me to see you for the first time.  You cowered in the corner pleading for another chance as you pressured me to drink until I was once again entranced.  That was the day your appeal melt...

Inconsolable now, the collective unconscious of the world cries for the deserts that are no longer brown but red.  The oceans black from oil spills, all marine life placed in endangerment for the already rich governments to increase their greed quotient. The streets paved with the same poison that flows into our homes, numbing our minds as we succumb to the notion that we just might be this dumb.  Bombs are all that fall from the sky that once blessed us with rain and beamed on us through its magnificent sun.  War will not end until we refuse to attend yet the cycle begins anew then resets again.  Convinced by corporate slaves that we are in an emergency state, instead of helping one another, we lash out with hate, no safer now than we ever were yet mass hysteria increases from day to day.  Though my brother in the streets is no different from the rich, poor, or middle class, we are told he should help himself and hurry by, head turned, so fast.  Humanity a...

There are moments in life where the only possible options are to lose control.  To simply let go, allowing the black hole that remained just out of sight to suddenly devour us whole, encompassing us in a darkness unmatched by even eternal slumber.  Those of us that are stronger, and can hold on for slightly longer continue to do so, avoiding, evading, ignoring until all is forgotten once again and brushed under the proverbial rug.  Then there are those of us who have tried so hard to remain standing, to stay upright pretending that we are immune to the overwhelming pressure that is gravity.  No, not us, we will not be shaken, even if just for one more solitary day.  We all tend to conveniently forget the support system that each and every single one of us possess and have had since the beginning of time.  Aside from our conscience (what greater than our most basic, natural instinct that helps guide us through the landscapes of our lives) some of our familie...

With my heart in the Antarctic, and my mind somewhere in the Philippines, it can become quite exhausting trying to grasp the intricacies of my extremes.  Blazing like a wild fiery inferno in one instant, then frigid, icy cold the next, my moods catapult conspiring to make me appear my worst and then immediately my best.  Though I resolve to reveal only the side of me that never frightens others scaring them away, when I am left untreated, it can go either way.  Depending on the day, I am unintentionally one's foe or their friend, irritability then rears its ugly face resulting in world's end.  I shout, swear, scream and then the storm is over as suddenly as it began, I hurry to collect the scattered pieces of a misunderstood man.  Although I hate playing the victim, I cannot be forced to take the blame, as though pointing the finger at me could somehow change the game.  Stretched to my limit in opposite directions many times throughout the day, this in...

Children raising themselves are the reason why sex sells, why petulance has become pedestrian and synonymous with prepubescence.  Parents that refuse to instill values or morals in their offspring, quickly reveal that they are the reason their children are dressed for the season but insipid and boring.  These babies are having babies, and only then do their parents wonder what the Hell they did wrong, as if nine months were the only indication they had for their list of discrepancies which was several sorry pages long.  Exposed to more skin during the day than exists in some pornography, influenced to lose more weight in the hopes of being told by complete strangers whether they are just plain or pretty.  Accepting challenges to pour alcohol into their own eyes or successfully inhaling and regurgitating condoms on their first try, I would blame it on their parents but they are nowhere in sight, enslaved by money as they model the behaviour that is eventuall...

Vulnerable and so open, suddenly more susceptible to choking.  Love and its possession are much worse than any demon, as they leave one feeling more powerless and devoid of hope than the most Godless heathens.  Shaken awake from my slumber, I have always been the problem and never the cure yet somehow I still manage to attract beauty in forms that are the most pure.  You say I lack ambition, that my bark is bigger than my bite although I retort by adding this to your list of superstitions and fears of creatures that go bump in the night.  I am a force to be reckoned with, always blessed with whatever it is my heart desires though it seems to only chase the things that guarantee to set it on fire.  Unafraid of being alone, in fact I thrive when I am on my own yet my fear of abandonment prevents me from ruling my kingdom from a lonely throne.  This king of sorrow at his best could leave even the eternally optimistic feeling depressed and then bereft.  I ...

With each day I  take for granted, I vow to appreciate the next, blessed with the opportunity to once again look, feel and strive to be my best.  With my feet firmly planted, my morals no one can test, as I have been granted another day to conquer the world and put my limits to the test.  Some may call me an idealist though I am as real as they come, as I refuse to succumb to the notion that we must all acquiesce to society's rules that really only just make us boring and numb.  I can paint my own destiny, I am the master of my domain, though my moods and momentum may change in an instant, I am grateful that they change at all, as my indecision shows I'm living, and still standing despite my many falls.  Others' attempts to understand me often leave them more perplexed than when they began, I am an anomaly and I will not be defined or categorized by any other man.  A human  being  not one doing, I live and let live just as well yet I am still of...

In Berlin, you lost my concentration as you sent me to a camp, your vendetta more wicked than anything else under the sun.  I felt so atomic, as you took me to Hiroshima then Nagasaki, blowing me up from the inside out just for fun.  Your contempt for me unfounded, as I had only wished you well until you acquired a warrant to persecute me, you will pay for your sins eternally damned in Hell.  My strength restored, it's nuclear until you light a match so I explode; I would even live in Chernobyl just to show you that you are loathed.  Your holy war doused me with gasoline then attempted to burn me alive, as you misinterpreted the word and justified your actions with lies.  Neither tribal councils nor grand juries can take away my heart, try with all their might, they will never tear my world apart.  My honour stolen like women of war that pray for their lives to end, you toyed with my sanity, it was all pretend.  You only attacked at night, your cowardi...

Like Gilles de Rais, you feigned innocence so well, although you were heads and tails above the other inhabitants of Hell.  You watched with mock horror as Joan d'arc burned to a crisp at the stake, salivating as you fantasized about the next life that you would take.  You massacred me without an ounce of remorse until the deed was done, then you wrung your hands in agony as though grieving the loss of a loved one or a son.  Always a romantic, you saved my skull to keep as a twisted souvenir, Jeffrey Dahmer himself would be proud of how quickly you made me disappear.  Like a skilled magician, one shake of your wand and I was gone within an instant, amplifying your charm, you convinced the audience that my name in flashing lights was just a misprint.  Now follow me across the pond, where you gave new meaning to the red light with your silver knife, staying true to your idol Jack the Ripper as you sacrificed many ladies of the night.  White chapel turned into...

In the event that one day my mind malfunctions and ceases to exist, I pray that I have lived enough to be overcome with bliss as I sink into the abyss.  To simply hear the laughter of my children or to wipe away their tears when they are afraid, would be adequate compensation for the neuroses; possibly even a fair trade.  I want to be able to reflect on the lines of my face with pride, free from remorse and full of grace as I replay my memories of better times.  Devoid of guilt and confident in the life that I have built, I will live my life in such a way that even the process of remembering it is a thrill.  Every adventure containing enough excitement for one lifetime, each challenge accepted not just for the opportunity but the lesson it would provide.  By seizing each new day and being thankful for every breath, I am not afraid to accept that all good things come to an end.  Equipped with the knowledge that we all arrive here with an expiration date, I h...

It was often assumed that because of the colour of my skin  that I would be inarticulate or unintelligent,  as if a person’s worth was measured by the content of their melanin.   I was ashamed my parents were from Pakistan when I was young,  then I grew up and realized that it was society, and not me, that was wrong.  Ostracized by my peers because of their inherited ignorance;  often confused, I tried to ignore my own dissonance.   Although I was born in Alberta and this was the only life that I had known, I started to believe that my race was a sin for which I could never atone.   Disenchanted by the discrimination, I began to lie about my ethnicity,  unable to reject my ego’s stubborn insistence that race, colour or creed were direct reflections of my identity.    As I matured, I gained the confidence I desperately needed; it was my finest hour.  Until my ...