The Dark One

This is what I do.

Drawn ever unto the light, but retaining my picture of imperfection. I can’t be framed, because I actually did it. I can’t condemn the world, because I’ve been cursed by spirit. The luxury of lackluster living spoils me…

I am the Shadow Man.

Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes hope sneaks up on me. Dreams sneak up in me. The sun blazes and I think its holy light can finally be the remedy.

…. but who is there to conquer when I am my only enemy. Enmity inwardly ending things instinct free… injury prone and found guilty.

I am the Shadow Man.

I can’t keep track of all the wrong things I’ve done. Can’t cling to redemption long enough to hold on. My heart freezes up and my fingers break. I am not Tris, not made dauntless, I am the loch ness forever locked inside his cage.

I am the Shadow Man. The Magic Terror. The Demon Dressed in Light. The Evil One. The Unholy Son. The Mare Rider of the Night. I quit everything except the darkness I dabble in, because when a man has nothing, he needs power and I’m too afraid to be powerless out in the sun.

I am the Shadow Man.

The unsolicited villain sullying and polluting the brook your story flows in.

No liberty bell can save me.

For I…

Am Rumpelstiltskin.

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Insomnia

Parallax.

Paralytic vision converter verging on the edge of mended delusion. A rose softly dropping it’s three petals like a roll of silent thunder, because you lacked the  vantage to see the lingering fourth.

Passive aggressive in its active nature, every tree refuses to violate the horizon. Dawn rebels, tired of the earth’s cyclical self, shelving the responsibilities of time management and begrudgingly nudging forever off into eternity.

It’s a cosmic rip, like the moon harpooning your mama’s ceiling and doing lunar things to her while you are sleeping, it makes me sick.

The night sky is the eternal Judas.
The march of time is the wisest clueless.

And my contrite mind stays awake to tune in.

13

My childhood fantasy

Was to be a super hero

I remember praying to God one day

Promising to do my best to save the world

To never turn to evil

And to fight for goodness with every moment of my life.

I was ten.

13-ballThree years later I had the same dream

Had the same prayer

And it honestly seems like, I never really aged.

I still wish I had super powers

So I could make a real difference in this world

Perhaps that is why I always feel less than able

It’s hard to consistently and skillfully produce

When you’re satiated with “if onlys” and beingĀ ungrateful!

But wait a minute. I’m not a kid. Let’s examine the evidence.

13 made me wishful, but 25 made me capable.

I still cannot fly

But my words and smile take people to far away lands

I cannot move objects with my mind

But I can move souls with my hands

I cannot use the Force

But I can call upon the limitless power of hope

I cannot teleport

But there is no place on the globe that my prayers cannot reach

I can’t run at super speed

But I can be at the side of my neighbor in an eye blink

I still lack x-ray and telescopic vision…

But I can seeĀ God everywhere, in everyone and everything.

Hm.

Do not despair younger me

The Lord has answered our prayers after all.

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One Day

One day we will learn that unity is cultivated by the lines that divide…
One day we will learn that all beliefs are temporary in an open mind…

One day we will see that truth and wisdom aren’t ours to barter and trade with for convenience…
One day we will understand that the struggle of identity is part of the human being experience, even Jesus…

One day we will grasp the folly in thinking we can change who we are through slick phrases and biological arrangement…
One day we’ll stop jabbing life’s book with our broken pens and learn to be adept at studying the pages…

One day we will believe we have purpose so strongly that we know freedom is not in the violating of these fleshly containers…

One day we will respect, not just the divinity, but the INTELLIGENCE of the Creator.

One day it’ll pierce our thick skulls through these skin walls that our issues and justice causes have root flaws that aren’t visible, they’re spiritual…
But until that day…

May we humbly increase in humility and actual understanding…

And may Grace liberally cover us all.

Tale of a Rose: Part II

You are the rose who can’t even see the concrete it is famous for growing from.

Weary traveler bleakly pressing your way towards the mountaintop, it seems impossible that breaking through the concrete was ever deemed a victory.

Ducking the stones from the ones who once praised your bravery, dear rose… give yourself grace… you did not know.

You did not know royalty goes unnoticed when clothed in the struggles of civilians. The king makes the crown, but the crown keeps the eye of the people. That’s why the statement is so falsely regal, it’s not kneel before the king, it is kneel- before the ring of golden steeples.

Respect the crown.

A chilly revelation to match the icy sting of struggle that you never expected.

Wondering why you climb, even as you seek the next cleft in the rocks.

My friend… full blossom wasn’t the destination. In a commonly rare case of defied expectations, you the rose are being called to- elevation.

Your heart is trying to fail within you, but you must not let it.

You are no failure.

You are the Rose.