Hope

Have you ever dared not to hope? Ever been plagued by the plague of reasonable doubt? Ever confidently secluded yourself behind the fortified walls of your justified unbelief…?

If so then you, my friend, have practiced suicide. Not to worry- most humans do… myself included. Afterall, why run the risk of hoping for the improbable and then having to scrounge around for a remedy to the disappointment…?

And yet… a hope guaranteed is no hope at all. Fear has damned us all… if we don’t know it, then it’s not worth experiencing… but how can we ever progress beyond if never dare to lose it all?  How can we attain the future’s treasures lest we risk regressing to past snares and pleasures?

You see, by embracing the mock safety of not daring to hope whenever we need protecting we have stripped ourselves of life… Soul stuck stroking around a moat, while the body degenerates and the mind decomposes…

The jousting practice of preventing hope from being unseated is just as important as the war in which we depend upon our hope to yield victory.

Wield your mighty hope mightily…

Though sight be made blind, and dead fingers be yet pried- never surrender the burning light of your hope inside.

A Slice

Humility.

Just the very mention of it makes one cringe.

Unbidden, it conjures up images of bowed heads and foully manipulated subservience. Afterall… in a world that barely honors masters- who wants to be a servant? But we can only claw our way to the forefront for so long before the bloody muck of our fellow denizens stops and gives us pause…

Humility.

Teeth grind. Eyes glare. Muscles clench. Everybody boasts about various aspects of strength, but there’s only silence when it comes to this. Nobody that wants to be good at not taking credit. Nobody wants to excel at excellence if the spotlight is exed out for extra merit.

We are wholly unwilling to be a part of a thing if it is bigger than our roll in it.

And its even worse when you know winning, it’s like goal tending, you’re shot blocking even before the throw is finished…

But being a humble visionary might require you to take a backseat. Whisper loudly, pray intimately, and seek Wisdom outside of your comfort zone and long reach- stretching beyond your limits…

Humility.

It’s spotlight shows the humbly proud.

Humility…

Humility…

Humility.

People

It was to the queen that I turned to when the tide rose.  Accustomed to the bland kings and their drab prose I poked my nose in the direction of sympathetic winds and unlikely hypotheticals.

To the queen.

“Not I,” she said ever so gently.  “Not I. Not today. For it is not my time, and this is not time’s way.” Of course I knew what she meant.  I was a man and it was to men that I was heaven sent, but men are so stupid when you need something real- visceral miserable amidst this system nonsensical.  And now nobody understands what I’m saying.

Let me try again.

To the queen I turned… and she gently turned me away… To the ground my eyes burned… but it too pushed me away…

So I cried to my God. “Lord… please fix this.”  I’m still not quite sure if He listened, but my interactions within the ranks of my own gender have been laced with more tolerance. I don’t write people off as quick.  I don’t sneer my nose at the perceived lack of intelligence.  I work hard to give the gift I was given.

Patience…

The ultimate source of inspiration.

Dear Fear

If you try to run up on me you’ll get pistol whipped with the piss you toled me with. I refuse to calm down and like a pack of racist savage hounds I can’t reverse this frown until I’ve hunted you, fired several rounds and then chewed you to bits. You’ve got a double edged tongue so I’m using two bits. Youre stupid, you stole the arrow from Cupid to shoot me with unaware that  I was already madly in love with your nemesis. Courage is my baby and she aint gotta pay me to do this. I’m like the combination of a sugar high toddler and an assassin- I’ll kill you then run in circles in public screaming “me do it, me do it !!”  You get one dis track with no remix cuz you’re so far beneath my feet what the heck am I gonna chop and screw with? It’d be foolish to assume that you could go more than one round with me- you’re like a cannonball target to a sharpshooter, fool you’re full of rounds like the teacup ride at Disney ! Not even worth being called enemy, but there’s enmity, so if I see you around here again imma make you commit suicide by spittin my lyrics- “Oh no- it’s the end of me !!”