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The Terror

3

 

Do you feel the Terror

the deep darkness swirling

fingers of death pinching your soul

dragging you away from the light

howling for your flesh and will

Do you hear the Snare

the call of the wasted life

twisted into proud emptiness

grasping at your bright spirit

with claws and clubs of fear

tripping and ripping at your heart

Do you see the Pit

full of screams full of terror

echoes of hate and endless pain

slimed on the sides with cruelty

overflowing it reaches for you

void of light

void of hope

void of love

~~~~~~~

based loosely on Isaiah 24-17

Driving

brandon in front of a ferris wheel at Gorge 2016

Driving forward, nothing can stop him

With the will of a weed, he will steer

Through the chaos that fills every moment

Squealing tires and melting hearts, with little to no fear

Determined to make a life long remembered

His grip tight and spirit second to none

Taking his life and the world by storm

Transcending the scar of a forsaken son

No doubts trouble his insightful vision

Plowing through problems with ease and grace

His strength growing with each passing year

Determined to conquer and win each race

Shining his light into the darkest of realms

His fire for life a rare maternal element

Blinding en masse as his journey unfolds

His passion leads him to complete fulfillment

He will make each of his dreams happen

He’s a supernova just waiting to explode

Coupled with traits such as will and desire

Nothing can stop him or veer him off road

A Mountain of Forgiveness

8

 

most likely its my greatest of woes

like climbing a mountain with no toes

or swimming an ocean for a deep breath

what will I do if it means my death

this not forgiving I hold a grudge

double the anger gives me a nudge

greedy parasites cover earth in a mist

and cruelty is at the top of the my list

growing longer than impatience endures

with my peeves flying past in sharp blurs

I stumble repeatedly flailing off a deadly cliff

falling into shit with a miserable whiff

not quite finding the strength to dig on out

I crawl towards the mountain clawing about

while my heart and hands are covered in pain

I’ve given in to an endless reign

of evil and heartache till I’m finally full

rupturing and bursting my only soul

never learning that vengeance is God’s alone

only His to smite from His Holy throne

Immortal?

9

So, here’s my question for you all today….

Is it possible we can ‘earn’ immortality?

Or… for the other side of the coin; could we ‘evolve’ into it, on our own?

Someone mentioned it, and I can’t stop thinking about it. So here’s my thoughts, don’t forget to share yours.

On the one hand, there is a God, but scripture’s say it is not the deeds you do, it is the love you have inside for God, everything else, everyone else, that gets you into heaven… the eternal mortality that God offers is the goal; the bait; the one thing you do not have here on Earth. You’ve experienced love, been loved (hopefully) by at least one other being in your life, so maybe a new Daddy figure isn’t something you feel you need. But to live forever… FOR EVER?  It would be cool and boring, probably at the same time, and if everyone you loved wasn’t immortal, it would be amazing yet incredibly sad. But think about it, if we all lived forever, here on Earth, we would be wall to wall people… the planet couldn’t support us all… it would be much like it is now, with a lot more starvation thrown in. A lot.

But what if immortal doesn’t mean with your current body? What if immortal is impossible with our body?

Would you want it with your soul? Would you want it if they told you your brain went with it?? Or I should say, your mind? How about your heart; your love? Your feelings??  Wouldn’t you need all these things, for immortality to work? So where do our thoughts, feelings and love come from, if not our soul? Our brain tells our lungs to breathe; but what tells your lungs to hold your breath when you kiss? Or swim? Or blow up a balloon? This is your mind, not your brain. This is you… part of your soul. It floods you with warmth when you’re happy, and it chills you when someone you love dies. It rises up to sing with your favorite song. It explodes in your heart when you hold your child for the first time forcing you to cry with joy.

All this … does it go with your soul? Of course. It is your soul. This is what will become immortal with God. You. Your essence. Your entire soul. And from what I hear, you get the coolest set of WINGS to boot! So in some way… they have to be attached to you…. so you must end up with a body of some sort…right??? 

Now we go to the evolving aspect. It must be possible, somewhere, somehow, because we know how DNA works. Say you’re the one being on a planet who’s DNA alters just enough to where your cells never die, they just recycle themselves in some way… yes you would be the first…

but think about it… out of the BILLIONS of species on this planet, I would guess ALL of them… ALL of them have NEVER ONCE had their genes mutate into immortality. Are WE humans really that special that our DNA would suddenly evolve in a different way than every other species on this planet? If you believe in evolution, you also believe that something had to have seeded this planet with life, ie, bacteria from asteroids…etc.

That being said, literally, anything is possible. We know so little about our lives, our bodies, the world… the universes… it’s embarrassing really. But, we have only been around for about 10,000 years. Compare that to …. frogs… and you’d be blushing again, they’ve been around for over 200 million years…. so lets pick something younger in eon terms… how about a simple rose…. not even close, they’ve been around for about 35 million years… I could go on… my point… we are the youngest species on this planet. With maybe 10 other exceptions, mostly crap our lab tech’s have grown.. that they shouldn’t have!

There are also a few worms, flies and brine shrimp that can all go into suspended animation… the brine can survive up to 10,000 years… add water, and bam, you’ve got brine shrimp… but that’s only suspending life, not living eternally… and well, they’re bugs ya’ll!  Bugs! lol they don’t even know what being alive is.

So the chances that we could alter ourselves into immortality is pretty ridiculous. The fact that we don’t even understand HOW our cells know when to change, or why… or what made that protein decide to turn on a switch… folks… we don’t know SHIT!  OK! We only know the obvious, and that’s about .0000009% of what we need to know.

So my view is obvious… unless you’re severely slow you’ve figured it out by now… I say, go with God! He’s your best bet at becoming immortal! I truly don’t see us, a bacteria ourselves, evolving into anything as spectacular as an immortal being! But you will never earn it, with good deeds. You just have to LOVE!!! And it’s so easy to love God, and everything and everyone else… try it sometime.

Just go one day… where every single thing you see, every person, dog, flower… from the mailman to the boss you hate every other day… and be kind to them. Show them love.  And SEE what happens. Maybe nothing, maybe not… either way, sit back and FEEL what you did.

ENJOY that feeling of peace and happiness that your entire body has been tricked into feeling! Sink into it. Each time you are kind, people usually show you thanks, or love…. each time you reach out and touch someone physically, you are giving love, and USUALLY you will get love back. (now don’t be getting all pervy… lol) JUST TRY IT!!! And you will see… that feeling this way… is the GREATEST thing on earth. Right up there with the immortality you are going to experience!!

Smile

Mischief

skirt of an angel (2)

A whisper of hello, she shimmered as if I’d startled her, eyes tiny pools with mischief dancing in time to her swirl, waiting to see if my eyes followed her or if perhaps I was only speaking to the voices singing softly in a babble. Grinning at the distorted trees wavering in her light, I said, I see you, eyebrows raising with an instant ornery glee. Father will be so mad at me, she said with a burst of mirth, spinning in a happy blur, rainbow sparks flying from her glow, laughter twinkling between the leaves, as soft pink becomes orange glory, sunshine meshing with purple haze, and neon green deepening into a blue jazz only she heard. Oh, but to breathe in the pine and decay and flowers, I’ve missed it so-o-o-o, she said, climbing an imaginary stair, swirling down the neck of a tree, a barbershop pole of rainbow color, her laughter melting into a puddle, merging into the river below with a swish of a rainbow trout’s tail, with only bubbles reaching the surface to burst with the joy of existing, even if only, just for a moment.

Another day… another try.

8

A gentleman walks by me, pleasant as pie, smiles and says “Mornin’”. The green dress clashes terribly a in huge fashion faux pas by partnering it with dirty brown Muck Lucks; white tube socks rolled to the knee cap. He’s a regular, and likes to chat a bit. One hand gently pressed against his lower lip as he waits for my response. Today his nails are black, but only a misshaped swampy island in the center of each.

“How’s it going?” My smile stiffens as I realize what I just said. To me, that’s like saying “hello”. With friends, it’s a real question, but acquaintances, not so much. It’s habit. I wish I was hiding under one. Tonight I’m tired. Didn’t get even an hours’ sleep. My back hurts. I’m just not in a good mood.

I try to lighten lives every day, thinking by sharing one tiny personal bit of info with another person, it shows they are not alone. I’ve done this my entire life, ever since a friend of mine died when we were young. It ended up being a freak accident. But suicide had been a topic we were all interested in at the time, I can’t remember why, but maybe it was just our age. My friend had written something and it grew into my roots. “If just one person had acted like I mattered, anyone, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Sitting on her bed, as I read her diary, she’d written a suicide note just weeks before, getting ready. She’d changed her mind; I never new why, but she didn’t do it. Just the idea of it, hurt my soul. I thought her life was fine. I also thought I was her friend, her good friend. Yet I had no idea she was contemplating suicide. I’d heard her say many times, that she felt alone in school, at home, even when she was out with friends. She felt apart, somehow. We always seemed to have fun, to me.

It stayed with me, became part of me, became a first response for me. I’ve always joked with people, strangers, friends… always. I love to laugh. And for the most part, I take the time to listen to people, even when they’re ranting, because everyone needs to be heard.

So the gentleman smirks, and launches into his latest problem; he needs a new razor blade for his electric razor, which I know instantly we only carry the cheap plastic emergency kind in the store. His full beard is at least an inch long, so I grin and say, “Well, I guess you’ll just have to become a Quaker.”

His giggle becomes a twitter and I try to make my escape. Three more times he comes to the counter and pulls out the hair and grease filled razor, showing me the old blade, in the hopes that new ones will magically appear. Each time my skin crawls at the nasty wad of pubes still stuck inside.

His last trip to the counter was timed to coincide with an empty store. Razor now back in the bag over his wrist, he says to me, “I want you to know I appreciate the fact that I never get the “judgy” tone from you. You talk to me like I’m “normal”. I just wanted to say thanks.” He was blushing a lovely shade of apricot, his eyes sparkled in the bright light.

I said, “The day I become perfect, is the day I will judge you. And you are normal. You are more normal than a lot of people I know.” For someone who was almost six feet tall, he ducked his head down so low I couldn’t see his eyes any longer, but his hand darted out and squeezed mine quickly before he left the store at a run.

I smiled, feeling good for a moment, and thought, “Now, how will I break it to him that the Muck Luck’s make him look like Grandma Eskimo!”

Another day… another try.

The Beginning

1

her knee peeked at her through an un-mendable hole

flannel two sizes too large billowing above three floors

of open space with six feet of ‘the willies’ to go

where the echoes of his laughter egged her on

here gripped the hand-me-down queen of clubs

completing the dare, it was always about the dare

the wall moved in a leaf killing wind

he picked his nose waiting in a silhouette

of sunshine streaming through the peak’s window

elbows shaking, her nails digging into ancient wood

giant “X’s” of two inch rotting death

for the hay pile below was almost as old

as the memories she would carry to her grave

of his hair glimmering as if he were an angel

about to throw his life away from four stories up

mastering an eleven year old flip

before landing in the decayed hay below

fluffy for about two inches, then dirt mostly

but she had to reach him first

or where was the fun in that

if she didn’t witness his feat inducing bragging

there would be no point, he’d wasted an hour

despite ending the day with a twisted ankle

or broken neck, they had no reference for that

she could never say no, for nine times out of ten

it was fun, he was fun, laughing his way through life

so of course, that day was the first time she ever flew

Rise Up

2

surrounded by indifference

shivering from the chill of their backs

tears fall as if by mistake

the plan had been to be brave

but the weight of ignorant spurning

arms never quite reaching

curving a fresh strong back

soon sparkling with the sweat

from standing tall and strong

for the seeds of love you carry inside

will live on

it shouldn’t matter how you sparkle

as an amethyst forged in fire

in a world of emerald objections

shunned and dismissed directly

from those without enough sight

to see beauty in difference

stand up there is no alternative

you must dig to your roots

finding the truth of your worth

in knowing God makes no mistakes

and the longer you shine brightly

despite the silence of the deaf

surrounding you at a distance

who refuse to hear a new song

rise up my beauty and sing to the birds

for they will take your soul to Heaven

Life Is Too Short

3

tiny little lives touched by light

a multitude fresh as spring dew

surviving snowfall and frosty mornings

seeming undaunted and bright

their perkiness and fullness unmatched

as each morning they fearlessly stand strong

teaching us that life is too short

to waste hiding in a dark corner

sheltered and alone on a long winters day

Long Before Time – The Moses Beings

I wrote this poem today, to use in my second book,

Long Before Time; the Moses Beings.

Every four lines in a stanza are inserted at the beginning of each chapter. Yes, I know it is very long, the longest poem I have ever written, as each stanza is a short “poetic representation” of the chapter it heads. It is more like a short story, but there are 29 chapters in the book. lol

Enjoy, and I will applaud you if you make it to the end without falling asleep!! 🙂

 

Long Before Time

 

Embroiled in a desert

yet frozen in time

life sparked in a fire anew

amidst a pulverized grime.

 

A journey began in darkness

creeping below a cool moon

searching for a hazy hope

waning in the afternoon.

 

An indigo hint of life

sprinkled like spring flowers

barren of song or soaring

emptiness fell in showers.

 

Danger near at every bend

yet faith endured echoing

a promise from beyond

nigh a spirit of knowing.

 

In sickness and in health

‘til death do they part

striving to survive

unrivaled love fills the heart.

 

Taunting moments

endured for too long

shifting into joy

erupting into song.

 

Praying for comfort

kneeling on a mountain temple

abruptly desolate and alone

accepting far from simple.

 

Reaching a river’s edge

a black swirling menace

fighting back the tears

only calm on the surface.

 

Starting over

an inconceivable cost

devastation unbearable

wandering and lost.

 

Still life finds a way

while painful to the weak

crafting laughter gently

for the humble and the meek.

 

The birth of all things new

from trees to life in the sea

outshines deaths’ stroke

as a bird soars free.

 

Winging its way to the ocean

heading into twilight

the day escapes in a flutter

a journey fashioned in flight.

 

The crushing of the waves

a thundering travesty

a pretense of floating beauty

brilliant as an eagle’s majesty.

 

Just as the mountains range down

reaching for its pebbles fallen

the sea grips life in a tide

rolling engorged and swollen.

 

Like bricks pounding

or a seashell of pearl

the ocean rages inward

in a deadly savage swirl.

 

Like the madness in a horse

eating until it’s bursting

a briny sadness fills the soul

and sorrow leaves it thirsting.

 

Similar to a wandering spirit

days turn into weeks of pain

the folly of a vagrant life

becomes a brackish rain.

 

Yet even Dahlia’s suddenly close

before a miserable storm

sealing up a meager home

their dwelling safe and warm.

 

Despite the unusualness

of the moon controlling the tides

announcing a novel presence

an owl rarely hides.

 

Survival means its hunting

nightly hour by hour

watching life above a darkened trail

eyes wide open and dour.

 

Prepared for the unexpected

option for an offered meal

like a bear or any other predator

an owl swoops in with zeal.

 

Known for their protectiveness

guarding against danger in the night

this spirit beneath the pale moon

only rests in bright sunlight.

 

Truly as the twinkle of stars light

an ancient well-worn path

this bird of prey knows not

to incur an eagle’s wrath.

 

As he soars above all

a surveying menace in his domain

spiraling down to his mate

safely nested his children remain.

 

Thus he journeys far and wide

he will die to shield and defend

his offspring from any calamity

with almighty talons to rend.

 

For she has birthed

the greatest glory to God

majestic and grand

for all to applaud.

 

Then he will teach them

every skill he’s ever known

how to reach the almighty heavens

just as he was shown.

 

For nothing is greater upon this Earth

than reaching Almighty God above

rising above the windswept skies

and receiving His Almighty Love.

looks can be deceiving

looks can be deceiving

10-23-13

 

living poor is living free, safe from greed

free from pretending only worry about need

wearing same old clothes, trailer trash to some

food bank once a week, ten year old phone

he walks to work only a mile away

doesn’t have friends, never much to say

so what if he was kind, never hurt a soul

would you care or try to make him feel whole

what if he was gentle, loving to every one

would you laugh at him or joking make fun

~~~~~~~

living poor is living free, he could care less

about money or greed, only being his best

working hard day by day, never giving in

providing a spare room for abused women

hiding them where they’d never be found

guarded by his sweet huge German hound

living almost off the grid, helping just enough

not caring what others think, just showing love

you never know how some people really are

judging based on looks makes you so subpar

~~~~~~~

would you mistakenly think he’s vulgar

when in reality he’s the one who’s stellar

you end up being the one living in a sewer

cheating others, just a scab of life, a liar

hurting others with every breath you take

crawling over others with every step you make

you think that ladder you climb makes you great

and all that money you have makes your fate

but it only takes away from what you have inside

living poor is living free, his heart and soul is open wide

Behold my muse: Missed You

For More beautiful paintings by Katleen’s Brushes, click below:

http://colouredwindows.wordpress.com/

like the veins in a leaf

running up the spine

I reached for your brightness

towards the end of time

a stairway of alleys

sloping forks and wrong turns

missing you like a mild stroke

spirit aching …

while my blood burns