Reflections on Previous Posts....

- "Into the Dark" posted June 6, 2010- Some found this to be a dark and chaotic piece, others found it to be insightful. It was not in praise of my own darkness, it was a chronicle of my own struggle with right and wrong. Any who can say the struggle is not real within us all, cast your stone.

- "Night of the Living Dead- Pt 5 (Resident Evil)" posted July 13, 2010- Read literally, it seems to be a horrific portrayal of violent and frightening events. It was inspired by zombie films, but it was a reflection of how those films spoke to me in relation to my current circumstances. Note the line, "Evil seeps through these walls/I hear it screaming inside my skull/A plague unleashed upon the night/The dead have come back to life." It spoke on nights locked in the cell listening to some of the worst people holding ignorant, brain-dead conversations.
I could offer other examples, and I am glad to grant insight into any of my works, all one has to do is ask. Perhaps I will shatter your misconceived notions of what I was trying to say.
I do realize the beauty in the world, and at times write about it. There is joy, but there is also heartbreak, pain, anger, and fear. The essays I post are generally my thoughts or ideas, the intellect at work, while the poetic offerings are my emotional out pourings. To say I walk through life with a permanent smile on my face and joy in my heart bad?
I write from the heart and from experiences. Sometimes a reader will relate, sometimes you won't. I share to inspire and to influence. Some may find beauty in the use of language, and some may take comfort in the fact that someone else shares your pain, or joy, or whatever.
I ask:
Shall I allow loneliness and confusion to weigh down on my soul or shall I write a poem and shake the pain? (See "Fear" posted 6/29/10) Shall I cry for lost love or write a song? (see "A moment of Heartbreak" posted 7/6/10)
Shall I allow anger to bubble into rage and hatred, or shall I rant out my aggression through lyrics (see "wrath of a lyrical Dragon" posted 7/27/10 or "The Book of W.A.R. posted 9/14/10)
And sometimes you have to get out the bad to make way for the good. Not all of my writings are focused on the darker emotional states (see "Destiny Chosen" or "Gone(But Not Forgotten)")
I free myself from the enslavement of emotional turmoil by pouring out my heart through the pen. Knowing this, can anyone find any work of mine that is truly questionable in content? If so, please let me know, I'll be glad to clarigy it for you.

"First Breath"

I don't think that I was ever really alive
Until I...
Saw you waiting on the other side of that fence
And I...
Think I went a little our of my mind
But that's fine...
At least you knew where I went

My first breath burned the lungs
And I can't forget
I can't forget
How you brought the sun
It was you kiss that drove like a fist
And I...
Lost all grip on reality, sanity spilling in a phone booth
So fine...
Your lips like fire blazing my insides
But you're mine...
And you showed me truth

My first breath
Burned the lungs
And I can't forget
I can't forget
How you brought the sun

And the dark fades away
Lost in the taste
Of sweet oxygen...

I don't think I ever really breathed
Until I...
Saw you take away my darkness
Like a new dawn rising in the east
You brought the sun
You brought the sun
You brought the sun

"Programming the Machine"

Religion can be found in prison. It lies in the hearts of everyone afraid to face the reality of their situations. Religion acts as a crutch for the weak-minded, ignorant masses clinging on to their excuses and lies about who they are or were. It is protection for those who fear what may happen to them. Yes, religion can be found, but god is disturbingly absent.
I watch as the zombies shuffle through daily rituals. I listen as they spout memorized verses and teachings that someone else has drilled into them. A machine may be able to carry out certain actions, but it will lack any passion. In this same way, I watch as religion replaces a relationship with the cause. What has out rituals gotten us but a lack of personality.
What has more value, the handcrafted, wooden bench, or the assembly line constructed metal bleacher? Both serve the same purpose, and if properly care for, both will last as long as necessary. The metal bleacher is one many, easily replaced, but the wooden bench is unique, perhaps priceless. The craftsman of the wooden bench has personalized its design, and he has done so with passion.
God doesn't need rituals, he isn't looking for ceremony to be i our midst. The Cause of All Things is with and within us, always. We only need to have the will to discover truth and we will find Divine Inspiration. The methods are less important than the sincerity of out actions.
Yet, rather than concerning ourselves with truth and focusing on being harmonious with creation and creator, we concern ourselves with the proverbial 'right way'. We worry about how everyone else is doing it. We point out the flaws in their methods. We find what they are doing' wrong'. Remove the log from your own eye!
Develop your relationships, nurture them. Focus on what you need to do personalize your efforts, rather than worrying about what others say you should or should not do. Can anyone else tell you to love your family or friends? What you share with those you are close to is in your heart and mind, why shouldn't the same be said of the one you place above all others?

"Spilling Out"

My Blood grows thick
By the constraints of man,
And grows black with decay.
These years pass
Shattered like glass
And I wonder,
Is darkness my only fate?

Now maybe life is a symphony,
And I just don't hear the sound.
Maybe it is a masterpiece
of words,
yet to be found.
If I could put it all together,
Or find the beauty beneath,
I'd have to get out all the bad things
To make it complete

But..
Sometimes you have to get out the bad
To make way for the good
Sometimes you have to break a few rules
To be understood
And sometimes you just have to leave
To ever get home

"Rise From The Ashes"

'We questions all our beliefs except the ones that we really believe, and these we never think to question...'
The world is burning down around us. The fires of envy and hate rage out of control, as mankind becomes nothing more than ashes swirling in the winds of ignorance. Our eyes are veiled, as blindly we are led into the flames of destruction, with no one to blame but ourselves. We are the engineers of our own apocalypse.
Yet, here we sit, staring at the flickering shadows on a wall, content to believe in nothing beyond the cave we have created for ourselves. And what difference would it make if we knew the source of the shadows, when we have chained ourselves to a rock of illusion, indebted to an institution. Should a prophet rise to speak on truth and righteousness, it would be better to lay our hands upon him and cast him down, rather than allow for the possibility of change. While the life we lead now may kill us all, it is familiar... It is easy...
Shall this be our fate, global suicide? Or, shall we turn from our wicked and ignorant ways to lay foundations of wisdom. There is yet hope! When all the mud has been flushed from our eyes, the veil shall life, and we will begin to see possibility. The seeds of change have been planted and within each of us lies the ability to nurture the growth of a new nation. Rise from the ashes of the old, reborn a new in righteousness and joy.

"The Rebuttal (God's response to the Devil's Defense)"

What shall we call justice? That I destroy my creation for their transgressions, or that I show forgiveness and allow them to repent?
What does mankind deserve, death or life/
A difficult question, indeed. Even man cannot agree on what fate they deserve for their crimes. In their societies, when a criminal is convicted, they wish to see justice served. So they punish the crime. But, is this just? Is it righteous? If so, they why should I forgive?
Many of their definitions of justice would find one getting as good (or as bad) as they give, but this is not a solution to improper acts. One cannot change what has been done, but one can 'right' their wrongs.
Justice is served through balance. This has nothing to do with punishment, as punishment only serves to make one suffer for their wrongs. Punishment does not fix the problem or ways to avoid the punishment. When a dog pees on the carpet, the master becomes angry. The master rubs the dog's nose in its 'sin' and tells him how bad he is. The dog learns not to pee in the house if it wishes to avoid the master's fury. The dog does not learn why it is wrong or how to rectify the act.
Are men no better than dogs? Should they just be punished? No, for man has the ability to understand his wrongdoings and to rectify them. This is true justice! To teach the transgressor how to live successfully withing over society, forgive his past ignorance, and allow him to balance the scales. Destruction does not serve the interests of justice.
You ask why I forgive them... Because if I only destroyed them they would never learn and they would never have the opportunity to evolve to become something greater.
You point your finger at their every trespass and fail to see your own. You see their flaws and miss the beauty they possess. For every ounce of evil there is a pond of good.
I gave them life and set them loose in the world, free to think, act, and speak of their own will. It is up to them to find their way back to me. It is a long, hard, and sometimes wicked path they must travel in order to find their way, but without the trials they will never learn the proper path. Each mistake is a lesson, that their eternal lives may be perfection.

"Gone (But Not Forgotten)"

Her eyes...
Haunting memories to make me stumble,
A Struggle to even breathe again;
Like lightning tearing apart the sky,
(Tearing through my soul)
Leaving the tangy scent of ozone--
(...And broken hearts...)
--in the air as it scorches the earth;
A reminder of something beautiful
And deadly,
Forever she remains a part of me
Gone,
But not forgotten.

Her lips...
The taste of eternity,
(still so sweet on my own)
A heartbeat unleashes fire in my veins,
(A furious pounding of blood)
A roaring river raging through me,
Flooding the soul with passion and pain,
As it scars the surface,
Leaving behind something oh, so dangerous
But I can't let go,
Though she's gone...

And I can't forget,
No, I can't forget,
How she brought the sun.