Here I Stand

Here I stand, look at me

Just a normal dude, with a normal life, having a past of considering myself special with a special calling to fulfil a special mission. What a boy, still to become a man, though trapped in a labyrinth of vanity and lacking charity I so desperately seek in having sense of purpose. Life is tense with no proper chance, so would you mind listening a bit for this thing I try to teach may hit, I learned.

I won’t rip you off, but encourage you to walk the walk and live your talk. Now back down and slack away from empty pleasures, measures of egoistic leisure’s that you are trapped in, still watching others glory over your ability to construct a unique personal story. Horror fills me when I think about what’s coming, feeling helpless to abide in peace while society is getting down on its knees to please, don’t freeze while trying to get up for life’s a mother of lies if you don’t believe and make yourself loose of all ties.

Nobody knows your mind so keep it strict to watch till you catch and conceive a vision for the helpless who have less than is in your wallet, a mess to call it. why are you so puffed up doing nothing but peculiar boring heart whoring. You want to shine your puffed up brain in vain? All you get is another chain, praises of men like rain on scarlet blazers of those who are nothing than foolish money chasers; drop it, leave it, don’t sit but run from the pit, you’ll have to be sober and enter this Red October, dive deeper when the hill’s you climb so wounded get steeper.

You’ll be betrayed like we all, we fall, are small, strayed from home roaming the globe of illustrative fantasies and hidden though frail mysteries, fool- watch the bees; work hard, don’t play the joker as a wild card. Forget what’s behind ‘coz you’re blind, helpless and weak, well that’s how you tend to speak. Am I right? Aren’t you running from the fight, so far from Gods sight? Conscience won’t play tricks nor will you find any comfort with all those chicks, pricks; men deceive and leave so focus and don’t rely on hocus pocus, for your wounds bleed- take heed.

Producing your dream on the mainstream while eternal duties scream, what’s your answer? Sink and think about to hinder the one who’s pulling you down downtown. Secrets of purpose lay behind all the wicked fuss, deep down the valley of humility, denial of me, myself and I; so why to waste time and be shy? be bold, strong and hold on to all that’s opposing wrong consolation, vain relation to empty opinions of people’s frustration.

Don’t you already know that this is all but a big soap show and you’re trying to sit closer, mister composer, try rather to disclose her who tempts and does adulterous work in careful attempts to deceive and leave the future child in its hopeless fatherless grief.

Can I offer a meek solution to escape all this worldly pollution? Believe, see and hear the goodness of all who fear the one that looks down your heart to make you free indeed, guaranteed that when you enter secret isolation eternal consolation will ripen your brave core and without sore He’ll even bless you with more to eventually load into the cloud, melodies to sing out loud, while you’re being purified of all wrongs you shamefully concealed in words breathed through iron lungs.

Originality will find you through hardship, character formed by achieving victory, relieving; while standing your place with all those who’re believing- this mysterious and glorious chase of truth is in prevailing through righteous wailing, stirs you alive to move on and hold fast till He comes at last.


Living trueness

The amateur is an egotist. He takes the material of his personal pain and uses it to draw attention to himself. He creates a “life,” a “character,” a “personality.”

The artist and the professional, on the other hand, have turned a corner in their minds. They have succeeded in stepping back from themselves. They have grown so bored with themselves and so sick of their petty bullshit that they can manipulate those elements the way HazMat technician handles weapons-grade plutonium.

They manipulate them for the good of others. What were once their shadow symphonies become real symphonies. The color and drama that were once outside now move inside.

.. What we once thought was real- “the world,” including its epicenter, ourselves- turns out to be only a shadow. What once seemed to be only a dream becomes, now, the reality of our lives.

An excerpt from Turning Pro by Steven Pressfield

Work on your Vineyard

While reading the book of Watchman Nee called ‘the Song of Songs’, I stumbled upon a very interesting passage in which I think that a lot of (young) believers would find comfort. Here it comes:

Let us get up early to the vineyards (Song of Songs 7:12a)

“..Here she draws attention not to her own personal vineyard but to a plurality of vineyards beyond herself. Her concern and burden are now extended to many works of the Lord. In the beginning of any service for the Lord, believers must learn not to yield to the temptation of working in too many vineyards, but, rather, to cultivate one’s own vineyard. Remember the loved maiden’s lament in her own immaturity: “They made me the keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyard I have not kept” (1:16).”

“But now she has been brought to spiritual maturity through caring for, and giving attention to, the development of the ground in her own life.”

Valley of Comfort

Once I heard Him speak so clearly
a voice of tender spoken whisper
for my stance never to flee.

Not since I met that shiny pearl
as if He burned for me a treasure,
but now stunned in the painful whirl
of losing her precious measure.

He still will teach me more of His
taking my heart through darkened paths,
by comforting with a tender kiss
all the burning scars of sharpened darts.

I will press through this empty season
and surely once again
flourish in a healthy reason
to never stop where I began.

Be Lifted

Longing for the higher state,
not recognizing that while in err,
My mind keeps me in hate.

Wisdom either longs for me, shouting with a tender voice. Still crying, of what I must lose to be.

A clue for understanding everlasting joy is that higher logic always seems foolish for the one who is depending on a lower logic.

Being in a state of realizating that your present state of being is not helping you to be overflowing with happiness and joy makes you also become aware of the fact that you need to obtain a better understanding of reality as it is, or you may satisfy your longing by enjoying some temporary satisfaction.

The secret in having peace, is in putting all your desire in something that is going to be there for ever. The more you are loving this, the more you will find satisfaction and joy in it without having to satisfy anything in the material – always being contend.

This what we love is Jesus, a person. Truth can only be a person, because real peace only comes by friendship – we as human beings can only be satisfied with that what is like us. This is why Buddha acknowledged of not having found peace as it should be. He did not know truth as being a person who loved him.

Going to a higher state of being, is in reality getting to know Jesus Christ who is now in heaven with God and in God – so when we go towards understanding God, our Creator, we see Jesus Christ and we can draw love from His Eternal Source, knowing that we are loved by what He did on the cross – dying for us. This knowledge sets us free and is thus proclaimed as the GOSPEL, the GOOD NEWS of Jesus Christ.

We may be lifted up by Him, by understanding His love for us.

Searching for more light

Dozens of ways in Thought
exist to reach the spot,
in what Life has wrought
an staying as in God.

Understanding, make clear your hidden mystery
though without movement you do not exist.

Life flows in circles
and change is made through will.
An unknown realm tickles
either pleasant but can kill,
or joyous and strangely familiar.

Understanding once again, allow my soul
to taste the everlasting flow.

Oh how blocked your realm can be,
when my heart is in low expectation
and hard for it to see,
what a sweet reward brings revelation
for them who dare to be.

Made this poem, when I wanted to produce some fruit, and a desire popped up in my heart to write a poem. As poetry is the description of the unseen in beauty, I wrote about my longing for more light in my life at the present moment.

Sugar fire

Sight clears up,
new districts of thought
not far to manifest.

How external bodily adjustment,
can give the weary their zeal.
Mysteries unfold while you’re in rent
to the dip which is part of the deal.

Where can I find the secrets
to eternal fountains of purpose,
free from blurry regrets
and fleshly grasps of empty hope?

Those are the words spoken
which are Spirit and Life.
In whom my soul, when hardness envokes,
takes a deep and softening dive.