Saturday 28 December 2013

I Am

I am the child
the soul that enters in pain
My mind acknowledges no exit

And never did I think of home
for I was never away
Merely an offspring of your pain

I am the son
and I know my place
Knowing that I am inside

Inside, I will inflict my malice

And I know that I must leave
but I don't know where the exit leads

I am the man
and in pain I will make my exit

Thursday 26 December 2013

question of the day ...

Is compassion only brought to life when the truth is laid to rest?

Wednesday 25 December 2013

Jen, You Win

What is persuading us that all of this is real? The most mechanical of actions are found glistening under radiant lights: natural landscapes, romance, bad times, music, conversation, recreation, fun times, love. What has made us believe that these objects, actions and moments are genuine though? What truly makes something real? And what if real is not real, after all?

Does genuineness exist? If so, what is the origin of genuineness? Can a material object obtain genuineness? If a material object can obtain genuineness, can it somehow lose that characteristic? If the material object can lose that characteristic, can it gain that characteristic back? Is genuineness subjective or absolute?

I would like to return to one of the questions I asked in the first paragraph. "What has made us believe that these objects, actions and moments (romance, fun times, music, conversation, love, etc) are genuine...?" More specifically, what has made us believe that human beings are genuine? My intention is not to sound cruel, but is a human anything more than just skin and bones romping around? 

Recently, I have found the ever changing moments of each day to be quite astounding. For example, I could be staring at a painting hanging on a wall and nothing is stopping me from seeing that painting. But all of a sudden, somebody enters the room and stands in front of the painting, and now I cannot see the work of art. Only seconds ago, I could see the art with such clarity and now I cannot. The art still exists and so does the human obstructing my vision from seeing the art, but it seems as though the human has a dominant position over the art. And perhaps that is a remnant of the evidence that asserts that humans are genuine: we can hold a dominant position over other objects, both living and non-living.

Life is similar to a collage, in the sense that it is composed of layers upon layers, and the pieces of paper all die away. Although, collages usually contain elements that are not normally associated with one another. But in the case of human existence, there is this static physicality that is inevitable.

Assuming that humans are genuine, is genuineness created by an immaterial and external source and inherited by humans, or is genuineness created by humans in and of themselves? If it is created by an immaterial and external source, then how does that external source define genuineness? If it is created by humans, then how do humans define genuineness?

When I say immaterial and external source, I am referring to God. I am asserting that God creates genuineness and allows people to inherit that characteristic. I do not think that we as people have the ability to create genuineness, nor do I think that we should attempt to define genuineness. I have yet to believe that humankind has a single objective to offer, apart from mounds of unsatisfying subjectivity.

To be honest, I still do not know what genuineness is and I still do not know what the objective is (though the objective was only mentioned very briefly). But I do believe that they can be found. I have been asking myself the past few weeks, "Why do I believe that there is an objective and why do I believe that God exists?" I have yet to find answers to those questions too.

Question marks are shaped like ears, yet we rarely hear any answers. Shapes of sounds, shapes of visuals, it is all so puzzling. And these are not just abstract ideas that I am talking about. These are the conversations that we immerse ourselves into, the fun times, the ideas we have about love, the music we hear, the skies we stare at, the eyes we stare into. Is there genuineness within this carnival of shifting shapes?

Monday 23 December 2013

As For My Conscience

Where are you hiding? Why should I lose my voice when you refuse to articulate? No stained glass eyes to stare into, no words to appease my eardrums, no soul to love. Then again, I do not love souls to begin with. I have nothing to give but my begging. My feet show that I touch the world, while the cracks in the sidewalks reveal that I do not walk as a saint ought to walk. Her hair flows much like that of rivers, as my head becomes washed up by the currents. You see, we are currently unsettled while setting off toward the future. As for my conscience, it rests in its berth.

Saturday 21 December 2013

defiance is dead

What exactly are you gravitating toward? The idea of being "yourself" or "individualistic" seems completely irrational to me. You are so blatantly opposed to the idea of conformity that you choose to conform to the idea of opposition. Then again, opposition is more than just an idea, for it can also come through action and the same goes for conformity. But did you, in and of yourself, create opposition? If not, then where does opposition come from? Where does conformity come from? As far as I am concerned, it is absolutely impossible for somebody to not be influenced by external forces. Nobody has lived in a world where they were completely alone. Even when Adam was apart from Eve, God existed, light existed, darkness existed, water existed and so forth (Genesis chapter 1). In terms of human existence, "uniqueness" is a Utopian idea. What exactly are you running away from?

Tuesday 17 December 2013

Feel Like More?

Is it fair to compare any experience on earth to heaven? Is it fair to compare any experience on earth to hell? It seems a lot more polite to say "the rays of sun feel like heaven" than "this is going to be one hell of a winter." But are either of these statements pleasing to God?

We are not in heaven, nor are we in hell. But I do not want to assume that nobody experiences heaven or hell on earth, whether it only lasts for a fleeting moment, or occurs on numerous occasions.

Why did I write this? I am wondering ... why do people use these particular words to describe pleasure or pain?

Monday 16 December 2013

Spin Glass

1 John 3:2-3
Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we will be. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is. And everyone who has this hope fixed on Him purifies himself, just as He is pure.

Though his children are not who they ought to be, God still welcomes them with open arms. Not to say that his children are not figuring out who they ought to be, but they have not reached the absolute point. They cannot reach the absolute point because the earth is not absolute - the world is dying. Heaven, the true home of God, is where the children will reach the absolute point because Heaven is absolute. But is Heaven the objective? Well, it is God's home, I think? Heaven is eternal fellowship with God. That seems like it would be something worth striving toward, does it not? It sickens me when I hear questions like "would you still love Jesus if you did not get to go to Heaven?" I understand what the question is saying - do not "worship" God for the sake of wanting to obtain something out of your own selfish desires. I do not think that the question is bad all around, but I sense some fallacies within it. If you are going to take Heaven out of the equation, then you must be willing to make other cancellations. Did Jesus not die so that people could have eternal fellowship with God (Heaven), and avoid eternal separation from God (Hell) (Matthew 25:46)? I do not want to assume that these are the only reasons why he would die on the cross, but I sure think that these are some of the reasons (Romans 6:23). If Heaven is going to be taken out of the equation, then what exactly would be the purpose of Jesus' life on earth? Where would God exist if Heaven did not exist?

Now, getting back to the question "is Heaven the objective?" As disappointing as it may be, I do not have an answer to share. I can only provide what I have already provided: the aforementioned observations. I did not expect to come to a conclusion. Moving on ...

I have been wrestling with the fact that I do not completely trust anybody's interpretation of God. I have not seen God just as he is ... and nobody else has either. And now it makes sense - my problem - because I do not know the Solution in its completeness. God, I have not felt so mirthful about my lack of knowledge in quite awhile! All it takes is the hope to purify us. Pure ... and pure ... and .... PURE. Now is not the time for absolute truth though, because we live under limited restraints such as ... well, time. It will come though. And that is not my promise to you, but that is God's promise to us.

1 Corinthians 13:12
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.

***I have yet to see a verse in the Bible that actually says that Heaven is God's home. That is more of a personal viewpoint than anything else, or rather, a finite piece of the imagination. Please correct me if I am wrong - I very well could be.

album of the day





Saturday 14 December 2013

your name

I have become so irascible. I am the one who cries out with such pity and helplessness. I have enough blood on my hands for evidence. A mouth of emptiness, and teeth like knives. But do not touch the evidence, because blood is dangerous! Yet, it is inside of all bodies.

I do not want to say your name anymore because I am so ... put under. And that is not because of drugs, for I am sober. I do not deserve to say your name. Do not let me say your name. Please, do not let me say your name.

And now, I am building towers to heaven and watching the walls crumble. I remember when I used to not care about building the towers, and my hands seemingly built them anyway. I build without acknowledging and I acknowledge without building. Some say that works will lead you to the heavens. Others say that works will not lead you to the heavens.

How can I eventually spend an eternity with you, when I cannot spend a day with you now?

God, I do not think that I love you.

Friday 13 December 2013

The Disillusionment of Volatile Filigree

Who ever told you that the truth would be understood by everybody? I propose that in the mind of many, perhaps in the back of the mind, many would assert that for something to be "true" it must be agreed on by all people. Of course with such a logic, many would also assert that absolute truth does not exist, and then proceed to use subjectivity as a defense. They have to run to that shelter because they know that it is impossible for everybody to agree on what "the truth" is in actuality. To call seven billion people over to your side only amounts to a vanity ridden wish. What evidence do you have to support that you are on the right side anyway? You will cry with such pity and helplessness, only to use your weakest defense: personal and finite opinion. Is human evidence good evidence to begin with?

Some people are deaf to the sound of music. Are others deaf to the sound of God's voice? There are physical objects in front of me right now. I see audio speakers, Tylenol, drawings, a textbook, a computer. If I close my eyes and begin to see phantasmagorical shapes instead of the physical objects I just saw, does that indicate that the physical objects are no longer real? No, it does not. It only means that I am in a place of not observing those objects. If observation is lacking, it does not indicate that the reality of the objects is lacking. It simply indicates that reality is not being perceived and embraced by my physical sight. My memory still recalls those objects even when I am not looking at them. Why is that?

Are colors real? Can colors not be trusted as being authentic because those who are color blind cannot see them? Why should those people believe that colors are real? Why should those who "see color" believe that they are real? Who are the deceivers and who are the deceived? I have no answers to provide for these questions.

It is a quarter to 1:00 AM and I am unsure of how to conclude this. The truth cannot be entirely based on what you see, nor can it be entirely based on what you cannot see, for the truth cannot be limited by the wandering or the restfulness of the eyes. To quote Timothy Speed Levitch: "Our eyesight is here as a test to see if we can see beyond it. Matter is here as a test for our curiosity. Doubt is here as an exam for our vitality."

Tuesday 10 December 2013

God Called in Sick Today

Let's admire the pattern forming
Murderous filigree
I'm caught in the twisting of the vine
Go ascend with ivy climbing
Ignore and leave for me the headstone crumbling behind
I can't help my laughter as she cries
My soul brings tears to angelic eyes
Let's amend the classic story, close it so beautifully
I'll let animosity unwind
Steal away the darkened pages, hidden so shamefully
I'll still feel the violence of the lines
I can't stand my laughter as they cry
My soul brings tears to angelic eyes
And miles away my mother cries
Omnipotence, nurturing malevolence

Sunday 8 December 2013

...to the Overdramatic

Melodrama and writing appear to be some of my only carapaces right now. Both bony and prone to being destroyed, they are not entirely distant from external threats. That is not the purpose in which I write or act in a melodramatic fashion though. I do neither for the sake of witnessing the inevitable outcome, which is destruction, but I write and act because I witness destruction. And it is not so much based on personal experience as it is based on observation. But then again, what person would I be if I were to make no observations? Such reminders cannot seem to slip away from my mind.

Pleonasm and I hold hands whilst walking down memory lane. And who said I was anything short of being a romantic? I know I am not that tall, but come on now.

Narcissism, my inner vixen / Quarreling vision / Quarantined prism / more of the vision / Vision ... vision / Red fox and female / nothing short of some themed mail / deemed male / and ironic like a true Tale.

All this to say ... my melodrama cannot help me now. My writing cannot help me now. My prayers cannot help me now. I have lost sight of anything that can help me now and forever.

Saturday 7 December 2013

Wreck and Sailed


It is not a matter of me having trouble admitting this to myself. If I were to have the thought about THAT, and proceed to say that I could not "admit this to myself" than I would be lying. I cannot say that "I am having trouble admitting this to myself" because the very act of making such a statement suggests that I simply do not want to admit, which I am doing. If you recognize the trouble of admitting, you have admitted. I am admitting. I am admitting. I am admitting. On the other hand, I am obstructed from finding reconciliation. That is the predicament! I have admitted, but I have not found reconciliation. What drives me to stay awake? I dream of the morning at night. That headache, those potential red marks under my eyes, the ache in my bones. Understand that I do not like what I do. I may do things because I once liked them, but that does not mean that I like them in the present moment. I am not you, and that is rather saddening. But if I cannot be you, who can I be? I am nothing in and of myself. I have the opportunity to make my world empty by choice, but if the world were made empty by default ... then who would I be? Who would you be? Who would God be? I doubt God would exist at all. No, let me rephrase that: I doubt anything would exist at all, if God did not exist. I have heard and recognized the profound aspect of others mourning, even my own mourning. But I have rarely heard or witnessed profound joy, in the way that I have witnessed profound sadness. Does that mean that joy is shallow for many? Does that mean that joy is so profound that it cannot be properly explained? It has been awhile since I have used writing as a medium to express joy. Why is that? I find joy in shallow objects. Perhaps not all of the objects themselves are shallow, but perhaps my observations of the objects are juvenile at best. Even when people express their joy of God, it is so predictable. They quote verses from The Bible - the Holy Book - God's words and not their own words. I have done the same, so know that I am not attempting to raise anarchy - there does not need to be even more internet activism, and Kony 2012 is proof of that. What am I getting at? I do not know. At least, I do not know right now. We make proclamations when we hear from God, but we hide when we listen to God.

Thursday 5 December 2013

Hour of Iniquity

I have found myself to be rather fascinated by the crucifixion of Christ lately,
and this poem is about Judas Iscariot. 


My hour of iniquity has come
and I would trade 30 for 24
There is no grace after my guilt
as I look toward the skies

Today will not end
in feelings of emptiness
For emptiness will end
the days of my life

I cannot speak from the heart
Nor can I open my mouth
The openness of the noose
can only speak for me

My hour of iniquity has come
and it is the last hour I shall live
as I walk toward the field

Sunday 1 December 2013

Arguments

Before Jesus' crucifixion took place, he did not even argue against the false accusations from the chief priests and elders (Matthew 27:12). Are your arguments worthwhile? Are mine?

The Glow

A fondness grown out of displacement
Ephemeral appeal as we keep our distance
You would hold no place for me
If you held a place inside my head

I will be found in a room
whilst swooning over space
And under the heavens
I will be found holding all the stars

Stars do not glow
they only know a Glow

Our hands like roots
whilst running through the sidewalks

They will do all they can
to keep us from growing together

Would you hold a place for me
if I let you inside my head?

Do not let our hands grow asunder
Please, do not let our hands grow asunder