good intentions without understanding result to worse things.
it’s better to not understand beings and simply respect feelings.
Ripples of thoughts
of wonders and sorrows
severe his mind gracefully
at the wrong time….
All in non-extremes
beg for attention
when the only Freedom starts with Detention…
– A Liberation they know nothing of.
Pink and Green
Images of woe
Images of Joy
-THE DEATH WAS REAL!
It was a nightmare that came before sleep
It was a dream that happened because he awakened…
But now he must awaken again….
There is a pool of woe in the Southeast,
and fish in the cold air up North to the West…
He knows no other waters but woe.
Time stops in this climax of suffering.
The LIFE was real…
he gets swallowed up in a time machine…
and knows just about too many things…
he only thought of time…
He cries to sleep,
wakes up the same,
blood flowing through his veins
and outside of them.
Splashes of blood
on this mundane floor
drown him gently
in sweet Sunday gloom.
I wanna sing the saddest songs as if I would die
and then I wanna cry my heart out as if I’ve lost God…
I wanna run in circles within an untamed wilderness
after my tears have equalled the waves of the seas…
and find myself at the top of a snow-capped mountain
screaming my frozen lungs out and hearing only my voice
transmitting the rage of my burning heart.
Distorted and soul-starved,
I don’t ache to feel a little less alive…
Nor do I merely ache…
My madness does not represent a longing for joy
Not even a longing for death.
My loneliness is not soothed by company.
My burden blinds with light.
There is nothing more worse for me and ill
than the simple mediocrity when I do not sing when I will.
How do you take a death,
When the weight of its pain
Brings you to your knees
And stabs you repeatedly
As you bleed through most sorrowful tears?
How do you take a death,
When its cold bludgeons you frozen
Makes you crawl to nowhere
In all your disbelief
When you try to justify Life’s loss…
…and find out there’s no Justice…
For an angel born in a new home, Heaven…
Do you question the Lord,
Do you blame Him for the choice of the cause
The mistakes, the circumstances,
The manner of death,
The suffering much less than you now have to endure?
Know there is justice….
For an angel born in a new home, Heaven…
Do not question the Lord…
If not to get answers.
You can not take a death…
Unless it is yours…
And you can live in honor
Of all the good your lost love have done alive
And you can live in respect
To all the wishes of our beloved departed…
Accepting an angel is born
In a better home we call Heaven…
So dark, the shadows in my eyes
So light, the hell within my burden,
That I may never say good night
In the calming presence of moonlight.
So vast, the barren spaces of my woes
So crowded, the only things that hold
That I may never taste more than defeat
In the cruel chambers of the obsolete.
Weaved by thoughts severed the most
And illest visions for the blind and abled
My heart is forced, caught into the Paradox
Confusing the roots of misdemeanors…
“Love does not take account of a wrong that is suffered.”
It is a memory of Eternity
Frozen with the heart
Painted in Light and Waves
And death and life…
And that point where both intertwine…
To be one and oddly the same…
I can not discern it good or bad
All I know is how lost it deepens my mind…
How it stalks the stars for something bigger than dreams…
How it makes me forget who I am and who I want to be…
How it rescues me…
To destroy me on and on again…
(Image inspired by the song “Wild Child” by Lonesome Minstrel.)
Where you so alienated with too much familiarity?
It’s too easy to choose to stay away and be safe,
Kill the flame
Live the dream you have mastered
Where you so merely overwhelmed with too much serendipity?
It’s the hardest to decide not to spare a chance,
Burst the flame
Emblazon in the perfect hell where you’ve made yourself at home…
Where you so right with all you knew?
It’s too impossible to go on happily and feel clean,
Water the fire
Perfect the self-righteous freedom entrapment
There’s nothing more to me
Than this masochistic mystery
That begs to not end your story
Of just who are we?
(In memory of all the people, dead or alive, affected by the flash floods and landslides caused by the Typhoon Sendong.)
A tender little doll freshly drowned in mud
In the shaking arms of her weeping father…
On Christmas season when she was aged three or four…
She was one corpse of a thousand others more…
A multitude of suddenly homeless mouths to nourish
Who aren’t sure YET, if they’d be thankful to have survived…
Still out in their heads searching for loved ones and strangers
Still praying they’re still alive…
These are a glint of the wrath of a flash flood
That had more than a city abused and wiped out.
Life turns off when calamities turn on
But the Lord has told us how we could be saved…
When thousands of people had their breaths expire
Millions come together to relieve what they’ve left behind
Millions more continue calling out…
Out of their way… into their lives…
These are the heroes of heroes
Who had to be victims that heroes need save
Life goes on when calamities go off
But the Lord is watchful on how we behave…
From the Philippine Red Cross website:
Text REDAMOUNT to 2899 (Globe) or 4143 (Smart)
Text DONATEAMOUNT4-digit M-PINREDCROSS to 2882
You can donate the following denominations:
Globe: 5, 25, 100, 300, 500 or 1000
Smart: 10, 25, 50, 100, 300, 500 or 1000
or go to: http://www.redcross.org.ph/donate
for more info and options
For overseas Filipinos, you can donate thru the Philippine National Red Cross’ website: http://www.redcross.org.ph/donate
SOME VIDEOS FOR THE 2011 SENDONG TYPHOON:
I am the course of ongoing purification
Grounded at the feet of our Lord
My heartbeats are Psalms,
I yearn for Heaven to rejoice
Though my mold may expire, from dust to dust
In all its fragile, ephemeral existence
These flesh and bones are made sacred and holy
By their containing eternity
Father Almighty, take this man-made crown
Attractive only to the Earth-bound
For without halo can we look not on true wealth
Destitute in Your kingdom, detrimental to health
Amaranthine, grasps on all things
God, I understand why I’m born without wings
The light in creation, can no other surmount
As we walk this transient path to the paramount
I am tried… and tired… And still tried…
Must keep my heart ethereal with Jesus Christ
I am the course of purification life-long, ongoing
Sanctified only by Heavenly belonging.
“the circular, colored curtain of the eye….”
From its opening, the pupil takes form…
Through it, the light that enters, regulates…
Everything’s made to be broken.
I am deaf to the song of fools
Yet I find no wise man’s rebuke….
Perhaps I am called to take his place….
Make me a saint.
Hush the flames devouring my system
And slay the frozen truth of its endlessness.
And force it inside this ghost shell…
…And you’ll be sending me to Heaven.
This is also published in xyldrae.deviantart.com
“GOD MAKES ALL THINGS WORK FOR THE GOOD OF THOSE WHO LOVE HIM” – ROMANS 9
My greatest discomfort is the transition of consciousness;
Herein, my thoughts must ceasefire,
or begin to ravage me again…
As by my sinking eyelids I am forced to sleep,
Why must my busy heart retire along with them?
And as society requires me so,
I wake up with too much undone,
And not enough to feel alive.
It hurts my soul.
My greatest pain is this repeating ache…
…to feel alive or be unconsciously dead.
My greatest death is the transition of consciousness,
My graveyard is my bed.
This post is also published in xyldrae.deviantart.com