The Story worth a million moments of silence…
Thought.
Overcoming the imbalance in your beings journey, is superficial to the beginning, middle and end of each day. As the clock counts from 1-24 you must look back and judge the events accordingly.
Was it worthy of writing? Is it definable by a picture? Can an interesting story be told?
A life without adventure is like being grains of sand in an hour-glass. Typical, displaced, never-changing, repetitive, and boring.
Life should be like Mother Nature; unpredictable, fierce, always changing, original, and remorseful.
When chaos wrecks havoc, Nature has a funny way of restoring balance to those whom have been thrown off.
“Live life not for the smile of others, but for the smile others bring you”. ©
Domesticated…
Domesticated; to bring to the level of ordinary people. to adapt to life in a more intimate setting.
I, The Man They Call… so many outlandish titles. Have been labeled Domesticated, a chapter of life never thought to be seen by the likes of me. In life we make choices that directly impact another. We live life based on those values we set in stone. I for a score plus nine years have known nothing other than anger and haste. But new life is as innocent as the tree standing in the forest.
A chapter of hate, is nothing more than poison to mans soul. A new flower blooms as the soft-spoken words are embraced by the speaker. “Chivalry isn’t Dead” bellows from the depths deep within. Change isn’t a value to sour those who do not feel its warrant, but is inevitable for those wanting to evolve and grow as a leader. I kindly want to apologize for those who have been wronged by me or offended by my persona, demeanor, attitude, speech or abrasive temperament. Live life to the fullest everyday. Forgive the past, Embrace the present and Change the future.
Heartbroken…
I am near the verge of tears as I drive to me god-daughters house. The the subtle summer evening rain low classic 60′s rock music and the windows down. I feel a wave of devastation floods my core being. I want nothing no more than to drive all night and see the only people I ever held dear to me. The people that helped me create my life. The backbone do my creativity and free spirit. But the define nature of their selfless acts of security, empathy, serenity, hospitality, affection and help.
I want nothing more than to pull in their driveway in the middle of the night, run inside, turn on the kettle, pour 3 cups of tea and wait for them to join me at the table. No matter what the time of night. That would rise up from slumber to hold my head up high.
I cant just drive to no where, for I will crumble another minute more as I die inside. For where I must pull over is nothing but an apartment complex for the dead. They got the nice one’s with a NYC Skyline River view and no rental fees. I want to hear their voices and see their faces. I cant let a tear go it burns fire inside these eyes. I can’t pick up the phone and dial. Some foreign alien from another world speaks gibberish into a microphone.
All I want to do is ask them Why. Why can’t I let go? Why can’t I find the solution? Why cant I find peace? & Why won’t you let me know everything will be ok and just breathe?…
A creation without a creator
A clash of thunder and a bolt of lightning deafen the air as its seen galaxies away. The worlds shake as Shadow God emerges from the core of the planet Earth. As the dust begins to settle a figure is outlined by the sun’s light shining upon it. Like a laser etched silhouette this creature is dark and mystery, appears to be only a ghost. A shadowed ghost no less. No eyes to see just small candle size flames burn in their place. No hands or feet just misty blackness in its place.
No movement once the full figure of this creature is formed. Days go by as this being bakes in the sun, upon the rains that fall from the resulted earthquake following the fierce bolt of lightning. The creature appears to wash away as the drops crack the layers of supposed skin. Upon the moons rise on that very evening a more detailed portrait reveals itself. A man like beast, chiseled tone body of the perfect specimen, but still no eyes. As the moon peaks in the night sky spotlighting this shadowless creature in the valley of shadows a tornado cloud spins around this mysterious beast.
The winds spin faster and faster around until a sudden explosion from within burst out as a vision of demonic wings spread long and wide. The moon’s light shine across a lengthy blade of apparent steel as the figure is frozen in time.
The sun begins to rise as the moon continues to fall. Fires burst from the mountains around the valley entrapping this demon until all activity ceases like frozen in time. The being spreads his wings as he sheaths the sword between them in the back. A galactic roar is heard across the plains at the shock-wave levels everything in its wake. Upon the atmospheric silence settling the Merchant of Vengeance has disappeared…
Parentless Child…
To be born into a world one must be prepared to Mother & Father the new life.
To gaze upon the being of life created & turn the flood of joyous emotions into tears of poison, is an unjust act of cruelty. The innocence of the child brought into a world of hate is like doing drugs while attempting to copulate your pleasure for selfishness.
To strike a hand against the flesh of this child without accord or valid reason is condemning yourselves to a fiery tyranny at the gates of hell. Each breathe you breath is tainted with the shards of glass that fall from disintegrating ceiling above the crib. The asbestos that entraps this evolving life rains beads of foamed soap across your skin sizzling as it burns rings into the drain. The purity of the water filtering from the well below becomes blackened upon the contact to the evil of your skin as it sings nothing but screams.
This child grows only to be beaten down. Every time he stands you make him fall. When he asks a question a torpedoed fist connects with his jaw. When he sheds a tear the phrase “cry baby ” is repeated like a broken record till another thunderous fist connects to opposite side of this broken boy’s jaw. Upon regaining his footing he runs away with blood spilling on the debris below, splashes across the garbage beneath force him to slip & fall through the floor boards as he races away up the stairs. Another round of bellows screeches out “ cry baby, cry baby, waa waa, cry baby“
As the years pass on by this boy grows slim & slender, made of just skin & bones. Each moment of growth turns to 1 foot in the ground. On the brink of eruption this boy cries out to unanswered pleas. Months, years go by to form nothing but silence. At the peak of this volcano angels heeded his call. They came from the shadows. They exhaled anger, commanding answers with responses of lies stuffed in bags of more lies and cover ups. The boy leaped with no hesitation or thought.
This couple embraced this troubled soul with open hearts, home & free soul’s. They took him from darkness & brought him to the spotlight. They took this malnourished boy & transformed him into a man. Not once hesitated to provide love, affection, education, food, or their heart. The older they grew the younger they aged. The boy lifted the drought of happiness, developing impressive creativity & rejuvenation to their aging souls.
Bred to be selfless by these mortal angels, he embraced peace & felt empowered in the choices of his day-to-day life. Taking the rabid beast & easing his pain. Dormant was he till the men in the white coats came knocking. Taken from their grasp, defeated & powerless they were at the mercy of the demons as they regained control.
Fueled by the dormant rage, trying to pick the lock to Pandora‘s Holy Grail. He stewed brewing with poison like a rabid beast locked in a cage being taunted by uneducated gawkers. This boy now a man enraged & fueled by hatred for the very people responsible for keeping him down, when his freedom is no longer within reach.
The days turn to nights & the weeks turn to months, every passing moment he grows more powerful as the blood filtering thru his veins begins to boil. Waiting for the doors to open & the right tools to unlock the monster lurking inside the chest. The pressure grew so intense upon his release from the asylum a force near destructive as the atom bomb shook the ground with a rumble ending at the steps of the very demons that entrapped him.
Holding their very lives in the grasp of his hand while it wrapped closing tighter around their necks, a wave of silence killed the air as they were stretched high above the ground. Moments passed as the clash of lightning thundered down with mighty force as they perished into the ground upon his stamping through it. No words spoken, no breathes taken just a stemmed rose & a gallon of fuel. A match stricken as the flame burns down the man pauses as if to hesitate & rethink the imminent decision. Moments later all that is visible is a cloud of smoke as a figure disappears into the smog.
Disappeared from the world, hibernating in solitude amongst the forest inhabitants. Years of silence drift by as memories fade & sorrow weighs heavy upon his heart. A voice is heard in the faint winds of the tops of the trees, “Come Home“
As the fire burns out the poison bleeds from his pores dosing the remains of the imprints left in his wake. In a secret clouded mystery on a dark stormy night he arrives at place where he once smiled without pain. As the door opens he is embraced in silence by hugs as tears pour from his face. The door closes as the aged souls transform into the angels discovered as a small boy. The tears continue as the silence is broken by the mutual words “Welcome Home My Son“…
Happy Father’s Day
A Dad is a hard working man, whom helps you as much as he could at the time no matter how good or bad you were, and is the best dad ever. One should always be blessed to still have their dad with them. If even in another place for the moment he will be waiting for you. You can replace a lot of people in your life, but have only one Dad… Remember anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a DAD. © Heath “M.R.” David
