Longing

In the quiet of his solitude, beneath the sky so wide,
An old man sits and thinks of youth, of love he’d cast aside.
Back to a time when he was young, in the heart of Chicago’s glow,
Working at the local Denny’s, where life seemed to move slow.

Her name was Sherri, fiery and bright, an autumn leaf aflame,
Her beautiful eyes sparkled with life, he whispered her name in vain.
They shared their dreams over sizzling grills, in coffee’s aromatic swirl,
He, yearning for the world’s expanse; she, a Chicago girl.

He loved her spirit, her laugh, her soul, she was his song of songs,
Yet the call of the horizon sang loud, to distant lands he thought he belonged.
He packed his bags, kissed Sherri’s cheek, “I promise sweetheart, I’ll return,”
Sherri chose to stay behind, in her heart, a silent yearn.

He wandered far, he wandered wide, letters penned with care,
Each ending with a whispered promise, hanging in the air.
The years rolled on, his heart grew tired, his dreams began to fray,
The world once vast, now seemed so small, he yearned for yesterday.

Now old and worn, he sits alone, his heart heavy with sorrow,
Missing her laugh, her spirit, her love, and the promise of tomorrow.
He missed the girl who never left, the city’s familiar hum,
The simplicity of Denny’s days, before the world had come.

From his chair, he slowly rose, to his desk of aging pine,
To pen a letter to his love, his sweet valentine.
“I miss you, Sherri,” he wrote with care, “I regret the day I roved,
My heart was always in Chicago, in the city where we loved.”

His heart beats on, in rhythm with time, beneath the sky so wide,
An old man sits and thinks of youth, of love he’d cast aside.
A letter sent, a promise kept, to the girl under neon light,
An echo of a memory, beneath the star-strewn night.

How I wish I never left you…

Broken

I am fundamentally broken

In the hush of a thousand midnights,
Underneath the star-pricked cloak,
I confess to the silent cosmos,
“I am fundamentally broken.”

In the mirror of my soul’s reflection,
There are cracks too deep to mend,
A mosaic of shattered memories,
A tale too fractured to end.

In the orchestra of existence,
I am the out-of-tune note,
My rhythm lost to the tempest,
On waves of despair, I float.

In the crowd of smiling faces,
I am the one tear-streaked,
A silhouette of sorrow,
A spirit that’s been weakened.

But within this broken vessel,
A resilience starts to wake,
For even shattered glass can shimmer,
Under the dawn’s gentle break.

I am fundamentally broken,
Yet, from these pieces, I start,
In the canvas of my ruins,
Lies the art of a mending heart.

What would you do

I often wonder what happens at that precise moment when someone passes in their sleep.

We are quick to say they went peacefully. Which implies they simply went to sleep, never woke up or had any understanding of what was happening.

But…what if they did?

What if…

You’re asleep and there’s an interruption in your dream causing you to become aware but not awake.

You’re aware that you’re dreaming. Like an interruption to a regularly scheduled program. Your conscious and subconscious suddenly juxtaposed and you’re in both places.

Imagine how frighteningly strange that would be.

As you start to get used to this new sensation, the landscape starts to change. You look over and notice a place, at the edge of your subconscious forming.

You walk to it and see a clear black line like a seam splitting two realities.

Ahead of you is a reality that you couldn’t quite see clearly. Only colors swirling but nothing more as its being blurred by some gaussian filter.

The space between these realities is big enough for you to step into. Without knowing why, you step into this black seam without fear and can’t move but feel safe at this point.

You turn to look behind and see a ribbon forming with the starting point of your birth. You can see events in your life with exceptional clarity and if you focus, you can almost relive them. The urge to relive your past is strong.

However, something keeps you rooted and aware of what’s ahead of you.

Still, you can see your life clearly and are aware of the feelings you had then. While powerful, these past emotions do not affect your current state but you feel them nonetheless with the same intensity.

Except for now, you are feeling at ease. No fear or melancholy. A serenity washes over you.

As you look at your life, you start to notice branches forming. As if your life was a main distribution line and these branches were veins shooting off into different directions. At start of your life, the veins were not so many. As you progressed in life the number increased significantly.

The veins were connections and impacts you made to other lives and intertwined with other people. The length of the veins depended on how long and much of an impact you made. Some are healthy and vibrant, some are not and some look dead. And for the latter you feel remorse, regret and apologetic.

In the end, you can see the accomplishments of your life and its impacts. You cannot change what has happen.

You notice there are some veins that are vibrate with color. They are so beautiful that they flood you with intense emotion and make you cry with joy and sorrow all at the same time. These are your loved ones. The people who are connected deeply to you by love.

After looking across your life which seems like an eternity and reliving every point, experiencing every emotion and seeing every face of those you impacted, you become aware that ahead of you lies there is the unknown and you turn to face it.

You slowly raise your hand to touch this imagery.

Then a voice booms from everywhere at once. The voice is warm and familiar but you’ve never heard it before and it speaks one word “choose”.

It is the voice of God and it becomes clear what is commanded without a feeling intimidation.

Choose between going back. Waking up in the morning with a vague recollection of what happen, a small tinge of regret for not going forward.

And an optimistic thought that maybe you can repair some of those unhealthy and less vibrant veins you saw.

You can tell your loved ones how much you appreciate and need them too.

Or

Move forward, never wake up again and step into the unknown. To set out on an endless exploration of the afterlife.

It all becomes so clear to you that once you step forward into the wall of swirling colors you will embark on a infinite journey.

An eternal journey where a universe of mysteries stretch out beyond mortal comprehension. The simple questions/mysteries we experienced everyday are inconsequential compared to what is ahead. There are no dangers ahead. No traps or pitfalls. Just a quench to our natural human desire to travel.

You feel a swell of excitement and no sense of loneliness. You know that all pain and suffering would be lifted immediately and never come back.

You are also aware that you would be able to watch the continuation of everyone’s life as you travel.

Which would you choose?

Who’s responsible?

The facts are nauseating 
makes you sick to your 
Stomach 
Because you know the situation
Was avoidable


The energy spent, 
a complete loss  
think I wouldn’t know?


People who trust 
Have had heir faith
Betrayed by people 
who are not capable 


Lies…distortions 
Of truths have
Become the modern
Gospel


Enraged you look for the guilty
Only to find 
They stare you in the face


They dare you 
To challenge
Plausibility casts out deniability
 
Oh they are 
smarter than you


They hide behind false
indignation camouflaging their 
Real emotion fear


They Share their outrage
Gauging your reactions
While adding lipstick 
To the pig


Its all distractions


To keep you 
From knowing the
Real truth that
They are the 
Criminals


The ones that
Have created such
Pain and suffering


A man cannot
Feed his family
Anymore because of
These incompetent people in
Power 


Not only have 
They have wasted 
Time and money 
They have wasted
Your soul


They have contempt for you
The hurt of their patronize 
Demeanor swells up
Inside of you


For them its
Easy to lie for
The tide washes away all 
Footsteps left in the 
Sand


Easy for them to be
Relevant when they’ve 
created the script of the 
Sad play