With them Ghosts!

My eyelids fall, blocking light from reaching my pale and colorless senses. A beast I have become and a dweller of dark caves. A ghost, an unnoticeable presence, though alive, considered dead. Weird.. People think ghosts are dead beings who appear in life, might be true but there other type of ghosts you don't know about, the ones you ignore, the ones you neglect, the ones that screamed for a smile and starved for a gentle touch. The one you persecuted and deserted, the ones you pierced with your criticism, the ones you highlighted their failures. That girl with glasses and untidy hair, she looks on the ground as she walks, looks at the smartest boy and dreams about him knowing she can never be with him, she's only a ghost, to him she's transparent, invisible.. Not even a woman, not worthy of a man. A dog and an insect. There is an old man, he sits at the sideway. Eating some sandwiches wrapped in oily newspapers. His jacket lasted many winters, and his shoes have survived many wholes. His watch rarely works, and his hair flows wild. He looks at you as you drive your car, or as you joke with your friends, he smiles maybe you could spare him some of the luxury that you yourself consider normal. He's only a reflection that sweeps by your windshield as you drive on by. Unnoticed, He is a ghost. I saw a mother, down on the ground, sweeping the floor for her mistress, She bends and twists, her bones hurt and her back burns, her knees crack and squeak and her pride lusts for a word of praise or appreciation. Her master the 13 years old child throws an empty wrapping, she crawls and picks it up, as if she was given hands and he wasn't meant to use his! She's a shadow and a ghost to him. I saw a young man, though not a super model, but a genius, alone he walked, alone he dwelt, and alone he died. He used to talk to you on the phone but you never paid attention to his words, wasn't interesting to you cause he never subjected your mind to foolishness nor supported your stupidity, You called him boring and lame, thought if you listened to his advice you would have avoided your shame! And though you didn't know where he went, he knew where you are.

And you scream at night you think you saw a ghost! And your hair turns white from fear! Dear there are no ghosts, those you see are the ones you decided not to notice, the ones you closed your ears to their screams and their needs that you could provide easily.

I choose, not to be with you. I will choose to be one of them ghosts rather than sharing your lifetime of nonsense, I don't care. I close my eyes and here they are, friends. Outcasts of that sick human community. Rejects of people like you. I have heard their screams, heard their stories, lived their lives. And believe it or not, there is more truth and value in them that in those books you were proud to study. Don't tell me your a priest, don't tell me you are man of God! Don't pretend you are a minister or a president! I don't care. You see all good you did for your friends and even boost about all hell you broke loose against your enemies. What in all that is worth to be proud of? your selfish foolish undeveloped animal nature? Or is it your self-righteous claimed to be civilized life? What have you made out of the human race? Pretenders! Clones and Fakes! No Clone who you want, I shall not join you in your foolish heaven. I choose them ghosts, those rejects, there is more life in them dead than those who claim to be alive.

For days I have thought, I earnestly watched people. I even put on their minds, their lives and their skins. I walked in every way man has ever paved. Did all people did in secret and in public. And it's all the same! Nothing is new! And most of all, It's all a sick perverted song of one who seeks love. But Love couldn't be found in the arms of a prostitute or with the partnership of a pervert homosexual being. Love is not a fetish fulfilled nor a lust achieved. Love is not what you get when you are rich or when you succeed. Love is not to be found where matter prevails. You dwell in the land of salt and vinegar, you dig wells and you seek water but all you get is bitterness and regrets. There is no water for you, you live and die in your filth. But those who walk away from your paths shall find the life and the essence of existence, and they shall have their lives and more over. I go with them ghosts, and together we will find us Life.

Sailing Cape Town

Old sails, built to defy fierce oppressive, fierce, and overwhelming forces of the ocean. Many have sailed and left memories for their widows as they lay in wait at the harbor. Piers soaked with tears much more than it was ever soaked with waves and rain. And yet I still sail, burdened with the responsibility of lives so many. For years I have put on many hats, but this one held so tight I couldn't take off; or maybe I wouldn't. In the middle of the ocean, life is a ship, home is a deck and pride is a flag. Sailors are unique creatures, trapped in their own minds, on a lonely float. They interpret life and all the unknown, all that dwells above and all that lie beneath according to their secret thinking. Navigating crew, we sailed south, towards the cape of Africa, towards their worst fears. Some think demons dwell on those rocks, others envision sirens, hoping of a sweet death. "The captain is an old restless fool" they think, I smile unnoticed, like a faint ghost, as a silent spirit. I've worked with man sailors, and I know the thoughts of this ship. Nothing surprises me any old way. Without a sword, or a loud voice.. I still know how to freeze someone out. It's not worth it now, we are caught up in the eye of a storm.

Till now I have cut the main sail loose, fixed my rudder, and sealed couple of sailors in the brig. Some think we are doomed, others; cursed and the rest are drinking the night away. A shark is now a blessing for a few of them, the great whites linger around. For me the storm is so quiet, slow; and thought scenes flash before my eyes, even memories of my past, my senses quieten. Chaos is a highly organized wisdom making a severe change. Chaos is the mire clay out of which creation came to existence. Dust today is so worthless, but deep in that vast space, it was Priceless! Come to think of it, Man was created out of dust. Amazes me how we spit on the same path we walk on, our origin. Now, we are only caught in the rage of the same old earth we ignored, a careless mass mindlessly brawling, with a ship's fate sliding along the endless mathematical probabilities. A dice of live or die. Fortunately it's not up to chance, neither it is up to fate. All the obscurities that a mindless sailor could utter in his endeavor to fathom the sensible obliviousness of life.

Black, Seemingly endless. Salt and sweat. Pain and the strife for ones life. A woman prays at home, while a husband hangs by a thread. Irony I see, silent I be. Smile? Why not? It's over now. Ship sails wounded as it's blood trails its soon to vanish traces at those raging waters. The sea remembers none, but the fearful remember all.

May sunshine wash away the salt on your wounds,
May light blow away that smoke in your eyes.
May you get those wings, and fly,
and your sails hold, so strong, so high.

O Mate let your hands be strong, Our night is so long.
Sing to thee and sing to me, out of the trap may we flee.
Onto the light lead me, skipper, that light, again I want to see.
Sing to thee and sing to me, out of the trap may we flee.

Sing lads, round the cape, sing your troubles away.. All the way.

The Indomitable Autonomy

Persecuted and paralyzed they were. Feeble and frail in their own lands; like a chick, chilled to the marrow they screamed. Unshakable heart bounces at no angst creep. A lion retreats at the sound of a crow nor does he care to return the caw. Birds may fly as they wish but in the end they fall. Lions live forever. My words are like none ever written nor shall be found again, The wise shall not understand them, neither the witty will. Their riddles are of endless denotations yet ever twisting connotations meant to dazzle and puzzle all but for the few elect. I care for no one to know or understand yet I know there is One who does; and few others who do,but not yet.

In my lands there is freedom, there is might and there is pride. We have been given all from above, and none shall take it from us. I stood and fought on the hill tops and deep in the valleys. I lead men of great distress and hearts of bitterness. Wild dogs of war that bit the hands that fed them as well as the hand that bright the sticks and stones against them. I laid and slept on the rocks of the cliffs at the edges of the world where none survived, I found abundance in all. Who are you squeaking widow? and who are you breathless artemisian branch? You claim to heal but you do nothing but peculate, and from the innocent you retaliate. Away from me you doers of evil, curses is what you gained and sickness is what have yield. My land gives no spoil, nor my borders leave its goodness for the storm. Milk and honey turn to poison and venom. The Thorns are abundant for those who walk into my territory, and all those who dares, I defeat with my Ever burning Horn, My Horn of Salvation, Burns His anger against my enemies and Rests He not until He avenges me, You have tasted the poison and yet you did not quit, you have seen the signs and yet you did not retreat. And now His Justice shall come down on you and His angel shall Establish his feet in your cave, his sword is against you until The Lord brings me back what you have stolen and retrieve what belongs to me. Until that day you shall not understand for wisdom have been kept from your eyes for the day of judgment. On that day I shall watch the Vengeance my Lord shall bring. And I will rejoice for my Father sleeps not, He is in the Lines of His Army. On that day I shall Shout His name with joy and my voice shall shake the foundations of the strongholds of all. That everyone shall know that Lord is God and before Him stands no one, no one dares.

Uncovering Machination

We walked into their lands, with birds of peace flying over our heads. Branches of olives, bread and wine. Music playing cheerfully, singers singing and the kids are playing. Neighbors and friends we called them, brothers. Lets dwell together, let's coexist and unite. We opened our arms open wide, we drew a big smile on our faces, presented our best gifts. But..

A dagger for a gift, a scorpion for a bird, a sword for an olive branch.

O you treacherous waters, you deceptive ivy! You lift up your stature leaning on the mighty and proclaim glory for your twisted ways! O ivy of gloom and mugginess. Green yet sickens him who rests underneath your shadows. Your stink have reached your neighbors and your notoriety have been fixed to your roots.

The Eyes of the Lord is upon the actions of man, He judges, and avenges. We lift our cause to Him, and in His courts we await justice. Surely He will deliver us and swiftly.

Diaries of an old Lion

Space, black and endless. Ever stretching through time. I was there floating and rolling into nowhere. Through time, I was there.. wondering, what is time? Life is just a moment, an instance. The past is no more and the future is just a picture painted with hope and fears. Turbid space, slow and honey. Blue and black. Hated before I was introduced and betrayed after giving all. A fruit, picked up, bitten, enjoyed and long forgotten. Trampled and cursed, though all I brought was a blessing. I was found, where nobody cared to look, rescued where no one dared to go, redeemed while every one awaited my judgment days. Didn't feel I belonged anywhere I have been. Air is not my medium, nor water nor fire or soil. Burnt, buried, drowned and blown away even though, I know where I belong; In a realm of overwhelming invisible reality. I found a gate, I was called through. I found warmth where it was freezing all around, strength when everything fell apart. Light came upon me, my feet never failed me, I stumble but I don't fall, and if ever I fell, I was up again and running. Years passed now and I have dwelt there, days and nights, till I myself turned to be transparent. Eyes can easily see through me, yet no mind can understand me. I oppose no one by force, but in the strength of my will I turn realities around. Miracles happen around me even if didn't even ask. I wish it was me, but it's not.

I have been glorified for the Name of the One I follow, and Him who I worship. He made a fence around me, made my enemies His, and my challenges as His own. Never did He leave me nor forsake me. He found me, abandoned by all, forsaken and wanted dead. Out of the hands of the strong He snatched me, spared my life and ransomed me, protected me with His Shield and His mighty sword. Even since I was a child, and an unborn. Under a victorious banner, I was raised, tough and strong yet my heart carries the memories. I smile when I listen to music or when I watch the clouds. I know how much life is beautiful for I tasted the bitterness of death. As careless as a lion could be among the harmless herd I am. If it wasn't for God, I wouldn't have survived so far, and now I have grown up to be a fearless lion. Old, yet always ready for war. Scars of my past are nothing but my Medals of Honor, Memoirs of Valor and a constant reminder of my Lord's extraordinary battle for my existence. As a warrior and King, He is my Crown and in Him is all my honor and kingdom. My Rock Shield and sword! My Lord

A Sensible Reason for Worry?

One thing about the mind is that it hardly stops, if it does; life ends; biological and social functions dissolve into numbness, then man dies and his memory fades. I guess that's why there is what we call worry. Intensive thinking in an imaginary venture to save one's life or valuables. Some trust a Higher Power, some believe in luck, some wait for a coincident or even a happy accident. As for me I trust in God and I don't believe in coincidence nor luck. But as human as I am I still worry, and a lot. failures of the past scare me that the future would be just as bad, and so I waste my present thinking of the future. And since the future is just a thought and all we know about is a hint, that intensive thinking is nothing but a waste of energy on a coiling phrase.. "I don't want it to be as bad as yesterday.. I don't"