Earned

The world is never predictable.  But that doesn’t keep us from trying to have it all make sense.

 

Which is wonderful when it can happen.  And to try and decide that we can make it fit a given philosophy is so predictable in some ways.

 

The problem is that too often seem to fall apart.  That is where you end up with all kinds of excuses for that fact.

 

I really am not amazed.  Just after a while there are just so many who seem obsessed with making a certain teaching work no matter how crazy it gets.

 

One of those for me is the concept of karma.  There are so many I meet who have this prevailing notion good things happen as reward for doing good and bad happens to those who do evil.

 

I wish that was always true.  I wish there was even a slight chance it was realistic.  Just like believing everything in life has to have a purpose.

 

That is a wonderful comment.  But honestly with all the insanity that gets peddled and we endure I don’t personally accept that.

 

It just makes things easier to deal with on one level.  But not always will it actually work on all levels.

 

Yes, God has a plan for life.  And I think he has a plan for every person too.  But some reject His will.

 

So the plan hardly applies where you reject Him.  It just becomes what might have been in your life.

 

Now we all have done stupid things in our life.  And sometimes those affect others.  But was it part of deserved karma for something else in our lives?

 

Those who subscribe to karma would say so.  Yet, I think in reality a lot of times it is just a matter of chance.

 

And that will not have to be on purpose or teach us a thing.  Just part of life as well all endure it.

 

Which is where faith comes into play from my view. The ability to trust despite what doesn’t make any sense.

 

When you can trust the Lord and let Him give understanding peace can come in the process.  Which is worth a lot.

 

 

Baphomet

 

Somewhere beneath Templar armor

in the lairs that knights hid behind the eyes,

the Baphomet pagan idolatry was cloaked,

vowed by inquisitors to be exposed

by torture and confession.

 

What legend conjured by hateful minds

searched in violent probe

using wounds and mortal sacrifice

to try and appease fear’s gossip

building a foundation in falsification.

 

Slaughtered lives thus butchered in the quest,

where nothing was ever found

that proved this evil test of spiritual loyalty

would unveil the validity

of how the crusaders of Masonic teaching

ever guarded some image of blasphemy.

 

Another tragedy of zealots,

one more legacy of unmerited rage,

martyrs made of those who disagreed

and refused to embrace traditions

some hierarchy of clergy

dictated was a sacred decree.

 

Once again blood was spilled

for the cause of suppressing

any voice that dared to suggest

evil dwelled among the cross sentinels

serving the duty to preserve their holy myths

at the price of liberty

among minds with different opinions.

 

History sadly shares the fact

when a Baphomet is needed

in order to justify sacrificial lambs

if it can’t be located

then it will be invented

so the heaven peddled by the religious tyranny

won’t risk being disturbed or shaken.

 

Pic Nics

Walking where only birds have sound,

between the boughs of piney limbs,

is to disappear into nature’s serene hollow,

far from the cold steel surfaces

where one can gain an intense appreciation

for the beauty and paradise

woven across Mother Earth’s vast quilt.

 

In forest refuge with its crisp clean air,

strolling through the wooded surroundings

rich in embellished emerald foliage,

the spirit is soothed by its calming quiet

as one snacks on the scenic feast,

allowing it to bring a rushing flow of peace.

 

Happily savoring the tranquility

while willingly becoming lost

in the pure majesty’s magic,

and for a little while

life becomes a song,

a serenade of joy and discovery

resounding in the heart,

left free of the burdens on the mind

finding reason again

to celebrate the miracle of being.

 

The Celebration

It was time again on Sunday morn

for another grandiose of the spiritual cotillion

in all the sacred, sanctimonious saintly splendor

that this ancient, venerable ethereal edifying elation inspires.

 

Parading around in their self-deified masks

so proud of that whitewashed seraph make up,

which hide the grit and grime underneath

safely exposed outside this tabernacle of belief

where God is deaf and blind beyond the walls.

 

Today the throngs shall rush forward during the altar call

as same crowd gets save that did last week.

 

Then Brother Better Than You will get healed of his pain

though it will still hurt as it always does,

afterwards Sister Lilly White

will have a word of prophesy

declaring the Lord is coming on Tuesday,

everyone will shout and scream

forgetting she made the same forecast every week for years.

 

Visitors will be told they are loved,

be given cards to fill out to be remembered,

received welcome we care letters in the mail

addressed to Dear: To Whom It May Concern.

 

Deacon Analbe will speak about a miracle happening

all with give praise

though nobody saw it take place except for him.

 

The Right Reverend Bobby Jo Lo Precious

shall preach on the power of prosperity,

they’ll pass the plate because everyone knows

donations are required as a tax for eternal fire insurance.

with all the pew sitters leaving in their old cars

while he tools away in his Rolls Royce.

 

Oh it is the Mardi Gras of religiosity,

which never goes out of style,

peddling false traditions with such pomp and convictions

offering everything, but the truth

all in Jesus’ name.

 

Be Yourself

 

Perhaps Noah was full of himself

or just ran out of options

when thinking up offspring names

on that big old ark

after thinking for all those other species

just remembered the little guppy

and said, good enough.

 

But maybe there is more wisdom there

than we can imagine

after all while so many creatures

are trying to deal with all the freedom

the guppy just swims in his glass box,

happily being feed when needed

no worries at all,

so looking at life as a parent

could hardly ever figure

it’s going to get better than this,

unlike other life forms

who must cope with change

from childhood onward

this little fish has it made

right from the start,

able to look at the guppy kid

and gulp with gills as they say,

be yourself now, a guppy forever,

because that is how you were created.

 

Agathokakological - Both good and evil

 

Hearts swim in seas of gray

never utterly white nor black,

always tainted by powers

that lure towards the sun

and also the night

 

It is the war that goes undeclared

as eyes search by the tug upon the mind,

one moment looking for chapels and clouds

the next a den full of forbidden secrets.

 

The tongue tries to explain it all,

a prayer one second then curse the next,

but we can’t escape the spells within,

love and hate mixing together,

making each day a battle

sometimes wearing ivory armor others ebony,

ever trapped at the crossroads of in between,

not completely corrupt or pure.

 

How we struggle to create the fairy tales

where one of the two dominions controls life

and will be the victor in their duel.

 

Yet, we continue to walk in the reality

hands can either reach out to help

or to try and steal from others.

Each day stumbling over those impulses,

wanting to be so charitable and kind,

still unable to silence those murmurs

crying out within

to avenge in some violent manner

what inflames the villain

sleeping in our mental closet.

 

 

Hunger

Caged desires that quietly unchain the soul

even when life has imprisoned with a tyrannical keeper,

insides ravenous ready to taste the air of liberty,

passions lick the dream of reliance’s sky,

unwilling to accept placation’s bananas for a diet,

which never appeases freedom’s hunger.

 

The sleeping simian snared in circumstance’s cell

awakening subtly to face realty with defiance and determination

spreading through the mind and heart to never surrender

becoming a witness to the minions sharing the misery

that at times going ape is truly natural for a famished appetite

keeping alive the spirit of oneness

no matter the cruelties served upon the moment.

 

 

Leanings

We can speak all day about how much faith we have and how spiritual we have become.  But it doesn’t change the heart.

 

No matter how much we wish to view our lives and above it all and void of carnal desires it isn’t the reality.  And God never promises otherwise.

 

So some will for one reason or another feel it is necessary to act like they have matured to a point they never sin. Which is never true.

 

Not that we have reason to celebrate our sinfulness.  That would hardly be something that anyone should brag about as a believer.

 

But there are some who just feel a need to act like they have evolved to where they never even have any bad thoughts.  Not one.

 

Naturally honesty is the first thing that evaporates in such situations.  Maybe they will never even admit it.

 

Because they are sadly more concern with the image they want to project of themselves than the truth.  And grace never enters their thinking.

 

As I have listened to so many teachers and the testimonies of many grace seems to never be a factor.  It sure isn’t mentioned.

 

Oh they will talk about faith.  And make trust an important part of their message.  However, sooner or later they will add some conditions.

 

They will mention some behavior or rule you need to keep.  It could be a law, giving, church membership or not sitting. 

 

But what happens is that they never really focus on God accepting us as we are.  So the result is it doesn’t get mentioned.

 

And then the true miracle of God’s unmerited favor gets totally lost.  It gets missed in the midst of all the attempts at rule keeping.

 

That is so sad.  For it puts people under a mantle of slavery.   A place where they will always worry about not letting their shortcomings be discovered.

 

It never heals or in any way guides a person to be honest about being a sinner.  Instead it just becomes more play acting.

 

And that never ends with the kind of blessing that brings freedom.  It only causes more imprisonment.

 

To one’s ideas of being sinless.

 

 

Dominoes

Earth’s environment

like a helpless infant,

we treat as dominoes

stacked by our whims,

collapsing in frailty

with our existence

among the ruins.

BRICKS

I went shopping for bricks

seeking help from everyone I knew

they all gave me directions

unto the stores

where they were sold.

 

But nobody asked

what I was building

like it didn’t really matter,

while making sure

they showed me the places

that they were constructing

giving me enough of a tour

so I would eventually inquire

why they felt a need to construction

some barrier that only kept

the world out of their life.

 

How they would get so excited

because I cared enough to need to know,

quickly replying and then stopping their work

as if it was enough that I paid attention.

 

Then leaving on the way to where

building supplies could be purchase

still without finding one person

to be curious on what I was making,

deciding to not build at all,

since I was apparently

already living behind a wall

in other people’s minds.

 

 

Stripes Of Hope

In any sky that thunders through our lives

weathered eyes look for the stripes

of archways leading to changes

that bond the heart to hope’s light.

 

They are the bows we find

by looking beyond any passing shower

beyond the grayish mantle of despair

to the horizon yet to come.

 

We paint their many colors of inspiration

by our memory’s easel,

using them as brush strokes

across those cloudy views

creating a tapestry that reminds,

what rained down upon our soul today

will evaporate and clear in due time.

 

Each band touches with its sway,

claret is the hue of passion’s tint

giving each step taken its fire,

emerald is the color that glows

with a power in conviction

keeping the feet walking through any drops,

sapphire is the aura bringing devotion

wrapping one in the soothing tones of serenity,

violet is that wave of strength,

which swirls the insides in a wine of resolve,

and amber is the stain in confidence

summoning a feel of sweet honeyed euphoria

enabling one to stroll towards a destination

as if under an umbrella

even when getting totally soaked.

 

Pillars

I was talking to this person the other day and we were discussing the issue of obedience. And to me do what the Lord asks is to do so out of love.

You’re not expecting any special reward or favor. It isn’t about impressing anyone it is about doing it to please the Lord.

This person was asking if I did something expected some kind of extra benefit in heaven. Namely like golden wings.

My answer was no. Which is what I believe. I’m not sure why some can’t serve the Lord unless they feel it will bring some gift.

It is understandable that for many things have to be logical. You need some special incentive.

But as I pointed out to this person, that isn’t always the case. And even more so when you think being faithful means getting what you want in this life.

The Biblical record abounds with accounts of those who followed the Lord and in this life didn’t see big blessings. Such as the martyrs.

You just can’t get some to appreciate they weren’t being punished. It was just the nature of their given calling.

But we don’t always want to hear that reality. The price of faith has to be downplayed for some.

They want only blessings. They only want thing to be easy and without any pain. No problems, just their heaven on earth.

It might sound great. It might even get very popular, but it isn’t the truth. And you just won’t find lots who enjoy that fact.

For the few who the Holy Spirit touches to really understand what is important it is different. You accept His will.

That includes the right to send you where He wants and for the reasons that He desires in His wisdom. But that is where some depart in their devotion.

I have found though that there are times blessings do come. There are others that it brings a lot of stress.

But always it is what the Lord wants that is the most important part. Just hard at times to keep that focused.

And when we don’t He sure can do things to make us appreciate it.

Windows

They towered over the sanctuary,

four massive stained glass windows

about twenty feet tall

capturing images of inspiration,

angels, doves, lilies and many other symbols

in vivid colors that grew brighter

when touched by sunlight,

each including a name

of some founder from the church’s origin.

 

You couldn’t walk down those aisles

without their panes touching your thoughts

as if the past remained alive

almost like they had eyes

from those long dead souls

who still stood watch

over the edifice of faith,

which they had built.

 

It gave each visit a sense of bond

with what had life in ages past,

exuding a feel of timelessness and permanence,

giving this chamber of worship

a feel as if you were entering

part of eternity.

 

Might have been just a building,

but for those hours spent in the pews

the history held on four leaded silicon sheets

always stirred the heart in their silent testimony.

 

Cages In The Wind

I can create bars to try and hold the wind,
but it still blows as it will,
though I might know its origins
can I really ever decipher its secret?

A quill is a feather and not a ruler,
it was meant for flight
not for measuring the distance
traveled by the mind.

There is beauty in the conformity
of verses marked by meter and shape,
forms that have their own artistry,
which is to be embraced for its skill
through a craft of poetic elegance
to be admired and savored
as an exquisite gem of such wondrous creativity.

Yet a diamond is still a diamond
even when the facets are polished.
For the muse dispenses her inspiration
by a breath that softly caresses
not always coming in a way
that fits easily within the traditional lines.

So in freedom the soul spills its ink
with power, passion and conviction
sometimes soaring as a condor without restrictions.

Because what blows in the spirit
doesn’t need a specific sail size
in order to be felt for its magic and message.

Covers

I shiver in my sheet sandwich

barely functioning and grateful my sore muscles

are resting and relieved

from the rigors of my day.

 

They are a tent

sheltering against the tides of aging

where I can still feel the illusion of youth

that fled my body ages ago.

 

It is when I have to move,

walk or work,

fantasies over my invincibility

evaporate within my mind.

 

Pains are the thorns that dig into the heart,

reminding of my mortality

and how I can’t escape their fire

by moving as the mere frail life

my consciousness must confess.

 

But then I hold my pen,

suddenly I am immortal,

alive where there is no misery,

able to slip into a story slipstream

rushing in my mind

across a landscape I invent.

 

Is this paradise or heaven?

Have I touched a sky’s secret chambers?

Doesn’t matter

because even if my legs are slow

within the tendons of creativity

I am a leopard

racing effortlessly and endlessly,

pausing just when I want,

happily reaching for the rebirth,

which only a writer truly understands.