Traces – Poem

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Traces of me are in the sins that I fall into,
parts of me gloriously revealed in the tragedy of sin.
I am a mess of epic proportions.
My sins are the gloomy streets leading to perdition.
My sins are the dark dungeons of cursed apartments,
neglected, and deeply unmoving,
I am wasting time,
I am losing sight of God,
it’s not easy to pack God offered salvation into the life of a dreamer seeing more, feeling more and broken more,
addicted to pleasure but fighting minute by minute to overcome it, addicted to control because of the constant everyday rejection…but seeking a mythical release of power.
My knees hurt from kneeling, I am sick and tired from all the spiritual hurting,
You can erase all the mistakes, be forgiven by God of all the darkness, but there is a price to pay for all the reckless indulging. Sin corrupts your soul and wrecks your call, pushes away your blessings and creates immense separation from God.
But there is hope for me yet, I am not yet dead and gone,
an inner voice calls, to repent, to start afresh and to overcome,
behold, the voice of my Savior, unmoved by my tragic sins,
concerned solely in delivering me from their evil intentions,
Lo, Lord, here I come.

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Enormity – Short Story

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He was a man haunted by the enormity of what was seen, felt, heard, thought and touched. He saw too deeply, searched too deeply, and craved too deeply.., but what was there to see in the cruel, turbulent and vanishing world..? What was seen disappeared, people disappeared, love disappeared, emotions climactic and cathartic disappeared.., what remained were our souls, and how we can claim we existed. Madness often sought his sensitive soul, it wished to take his soul and fill it with thoughts, moods and emotions that were sick and lost in their
meaninglessness… His soul blurred the lines between the world of stone and the world that was soft and absorbent… A world where life felt and moved like death and pain, any man who can discern the deep pain of death does not belong to this world.., He is closer to heaven than he realizes, and much closer to God and closer still to true vision.

The world’s cruelty, evil and pain remains clear but unseen..but oh when they entered into his intense mind of beauty, harmony and peace, they brought their curse and mind numbing spells along… Peace as still as the resounding still after the breaking waves cast their deep, eternal longings on to the souls of mankind, sitting in blindness on it’s shores … they entered him and they possessed him, and he thrashed like agitated waves unable to recover it’s sanity, like a caged parrot longing for her freedom as she squawked and cried as humans listened to noise, like a tiger experiencing deep sorrow as the cold steel bars hit his face as he attempted to use his strength to bull doze his way past it and run away into the jungle, where his rightful home was.., like a lion captured by men.., his pride stolen, and sold for sheets of money. How cruel were these everyday sights..? How cruel still the hearts of men walking past such cries to free, help and save.

He could not remember outer details, his sensitivity, his gift of being able to feel deeply was given to penetrate deeply into the surface of human life, to feel the intensity of life, to absorb the essence of humanity and it’s anguish and then reason his way out of it’s terrifying unconscious maze, to experience the Universe of the hidden soul and see in it’s splendor the mighty reality of a Divine Creator and to feel specifically what was unseen, unrealized, unheard, sidestepped, thrown aside, hurt, broken and forgotten.

What lay within a man…? Apart from his bones, his blood and his soul..? What murky inner highways, towns and cities exist formed from memories ..?What did experiences and the brutal mirror of reality turn into, did they become swords that stabbed in moments of fear..? The real things did not obey our concepts of them, they were blunt, trauma inducing and indifferent to the suffering, the pain and to the cries of men…, How foolish were men ..? To think that the stone could
feel, to assume that the dead would live.. but he could feel things that he could never seem to possess the vocabulary necessary to explain, or put a finger on and never ever be sure of. They were there, these silent beings..hateful, bitter, murderous deceivers.. searching only to kill, blind and fool him into thinking that they were there to redeem humanity… He felt them every now and then…, sometimes they stared at him through his own eyes as he searched his eyes for something beyond the dull, everyday image of how he aged in the world.. they stared at him through the darkness of this world that he had to cope with a great deal of pain,through the unbearable suffering of humanity’s clear deficiencies, they stared off the tops of temples.., clear in their disguise, yet seductively pleasing to the eye and terrifying in their postures. How long would mankind be deceived by these beings from the world beyond ours..?

But this man tired of experiencing the distress, the pain and the hurt of other men decided to kill himself.., since everything was being murdered, or run over or being hurt knowingly by men enslaved to their own evil. He too wished to extinguish himself up in a great sacrifice, all his life he felt things too deeply, but he knew not that his emotional hurt were the result of his profound inner innocence that remained despite the outer loss to social pressure.

He decided to jump off a bridge, strangely the eerie violence of his own imagination provided for him a great relief for his soul was slowly dying away. He replayed back his life, his great failures, his great inabilities and his great disappointments.., how people never truly seemed to care.., how people walked over him as though he were not there.. how people lived through and around him like he was not alive. As he was about to jump, his soul seemed to wish to perhaps kneel down and perhaps rant a final time to the unseen, invisible decider of all human fate. Like Job, he wished to let Him who is above all know his great inner turmoil, blame Him, hurt Him and then jump to his death.

He knelt down, embarrassed by his neediness despite the inner death of his soul as it prepared itself into the descent of Hell itself. He no longer cared, he was tired of caring and not being appreciated.., yes.., appreciated.., for nobody seemed to care about his presence in this stark world.., Yet he, he felt the great hurt of men forced to beg and roam, he felt the pain of a man exposed to the wiles of the city for the first time., he felt the deep sorrow of a broken heart as a lover rejected her love.., he felt the hurt of entire neighborhoods crying out for peace.., he felt the great sorrow of middle class families torn apart between loans, debts and living in fear of poverty and shame. He felt the pain of slums, huts, of souls trapped inside in mediocrity, trapped in social shame, treated like outcasts, treated like objects meant to be treated badly.., and not like human beings, with souls and hearts.., how cruel have we become..?

Was it that wrong to ask for a shoulder to cry upon..? Was it wrong to want a friend to listen..? Hadn’t he listened countless times..? Loved even as hurt, pain and evil was thrown upon him countless times.? Perhaps the deepest reason for his decision was that he could do no better, he had tried.., he had messed up, fallen down, perhaps he was not good at this human life.., perhaps it was the others who were spoken of as better all his life who deserved a better chance at this thing called life.

It didn’t feel like this divine being called God cared too much for him, he had called Him countless times.. but he was only left with the rejected sound of emptiness.., he felt hurt more by God’s silence than by the weight of all the rejections, pains and discouragements of this sad sad life. Why didn’t God care..?

Didn’t people tell him that only God would care..? That this person called Jesus would be there for him..? He knew that the supernatural in this world was largely hidden underneath men’s minds. He could also sense intuitively the reasons for God’s hiddenness.., but here he was ready to throw himself into eternal torment and hellfire, and he got no reaction, response or even a slight read in his subconscious mind.

He would gladly enjoy Hell, perhaps he would gnash his teeth at the unbearable, unthinkable, terrifying, tremendous pain.., but he would gladly endure it since nobody seem to care.., Nobody. That was far better than this.. than this indifference, that would be better than this echo of inconsideration.. If God did not care.. Perhaps He wasn’t so real after all.

All men were bound to a journey, their choices inevitably crossing the path so covered deeply with directions towards a spiritual destiny that only a few men perceived the great depths of such a call.

But as he knelt, knelt near the side of the bridge, as the cars screamed past him.., he felt a sudden gentleness in the depths of his spirit. It was so fleeting, yet so powerful in the way in which it broke away his burdens and seemed to nurse away at his famished, weary and hurt spirit… His inner spirit with it’s fractures, hurts, wounds and deep brokenness… This wondrous mysterious force seemed to work away at his tremendous darkness and seemed to weave into his tears, bursts of heavenly light, into his broken anguish the healing waters of life herself…, Who was this..? What was this..? He questioned his heart.., He felt a being working away at his heart…, He heard the whisper of a name humanity had called unto for eternity, often mistaking His identity and often times building up images from their own imagination and wisdom. He inquired further, eager to question this being that he had searched for ages, searching in the futility of the outer world and her vast enormity, he strongly felt the name, Jesus being sent to him… Yeshua.., images of a hebrew speaking Jewish Rabbi, Teacher and Healer streamed into his consciousness… His eyes welled up, the tears flowed freely.., what healing..? What kindness radiated from the man..? What gentleness..? How had he never come to this man..? Why had been unable to discern the absolute truth of Godship in this man..? How..?

But he did not care right now, he had been saved… Given life.., breathed into and offered another chance by eternity, by the tremendous majesty of the supernatural’s Creator and by the source and origin of the Universe…, God…, God did care…, He seemed to care a lot… He suddenly had this irresistible desire to share that news with the whole world, how great was his joy…, He ran …., He ran past people and he cared no more…, his heart felt light, radiant and joyful.., He screamed the name Yeshua to everyone and anyone who listened.., Yeshua saved me as I was about to jump off that bridge.. right there.. in front of you all.., Jesus.. yes that’s his name… Please listen to me.., you have to know Him… He is God.., he said to the fools blinded to their lusts by the fallen gods of this world.., but his conviction, his spiritual radiance seemed to penetrate into their hearts…,he would tell them over and over.. that was going to be his life from now.

How does one know..? He just does. It’s so deeply embedded in our psyche to respond to God that we should seriously lose all our fanciful intellectual worship of our own knowledge and Holy Curiosity, because we all will know what it is when we meet it…, either in tragedy or introspection.., We are all being attracted to the magnetic search for peace demanded from our own souls. Why don’t we ever slow down, and truly give God a chance..? Why..?

The people in your background don’t matter

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In the end it’s not the people in the background who matter, I mean really.., think about it.., it’s always about you and how you take it all in and live…but you know who these people in the background are. Imagine this, It might be a harmless KFC luncheon that you wanted to go to. Up and until you arrived, you were full of excitement.., the joy of finally sinking your taste buds into that esteemed, legendary Zinger Burger.., the thought that you were going to be sharing your space with a hundred or other strangers as some vague, rock song that made you feel colder and more fearful than you anticipated never ever struck you. You see that’s the trouble with wanting to be hip, cross cultural and well put.., a thousand other strangers feel the strange way, and seem to take it as a challenge to sink into a character, that can only be talked about as a mask that hides their vulnerabilities, that hides how they cry when they feel sad, or hides how real they can be.., and who can blame them..? They think, feel, emote and behave just like a million other people so hell bent on expressing stuff on the outside that they have forgotten the inside.., they have forgotten their character.., their spirit.., and their soul.. And who can blame them..? The demonic god of this world has blinded their eyes.., their hearts and their minds.., they are swirling like sparkling champagne, intoxicated with their flesh.., worshipping their lives.., worshipping this moment and pretending that this impermanent moment was a selfie of their very existence. How foolish these souls were.. Had they ever heard of Hell..? Of Christ..? Of His purchase of God’s forgiveness on the Cross..? Idiots.., greedy and deceived, mankind.

You got there, and you immediately feel hurt, threatened, pained and awkward…, you can’t be yourself here… Memories come rushing back…, that English school that your blue collar working parents were able to get you into after begging and pleading with the refined Principal or headmistress who was a below the radar heartless cod, yes the very one that required a tidy sum of money and in exchange it promised to magically transform you into a product that knew manners, could marry a foreigner, become a doctor and have class and refinement. But you never fit there… People are not meant to fit, they are only meant to find their fit and niche, and then live for it gloriously and with passion. The purpose of education was to kindle a fire in the darkness of being, not erase the tender, innocent dreamer who felt the challenge of becoming like the crowd, impossible, difficult and unnecessary. Those memories come in, and oh, the pain.., the scars that nobody sees.., the hurts that still live within no matter how far you run.., they all come rushing back.. because of this same symptom of a dominant class of species, well bred, competitive, sharp and well in tune with the world… out classing others…, it was Survival of the fittest wasn’t it..? Wrong.., there is no survival, there is not weak species.., people are souls.., people are lost.., people need God.., and the presumed weak man has treasures far greater in value than the strong, proud conqueror.

You feel the stabs of the idolatry of pride all around you, you feel it making you insignificant.. making you small.., making you , you feel the cackling self indulgent laughs of a generation consumed with joy at it’s mutual narcissism, and indifferent to the painful reality all around it. The culture seems, feels proud, arrogantly non inclusive and pompously elitish.., you feel excluded.., the fake cheery, make believe voice of the cash attender uses his memorized lines and flings it at you…, almost condescending.., as though his mastery of that bit of memorized dialogue is equivalent to Albert Einstein’s E=mc2… full of theatrical sophistication.., he stares at you irate at being forced to have a job just for the money.., irritated, impatient and tense that the person opposite of him refuses to speak…, he assumes a fleeting sense of flagrant pride at his Westernization… How ironic that a food outlet consumed with the killing of chickens, consumed with financial profit can inspire such a tremendous ego in a person devoid of such intelligence. Outside this shop a different language is spoken.., the deep emotion and soul of the land, with her deep desire to be remembered, celebrated and lived through the souls of all the folk of Chennai.., and meanwhile English is expected from a Western Franchise, it’s only fair.., but you can’t blame the workers alone…, the customers too brought baggage, their heavy egoic baggage.., they would snap.., bite, and demand.., and speak often in the sensational.., Poor fools, both of them were keenly aware of what the other could do, and they lived in a wary caution of the other’s nature, using defensiveness as strength and using repressed frustration as their language.

Snobs lunched around, cracking jokes, but they were not snobs.. they were humans.. flesh and blood.., with personalities.., with education bred into them.., but there were spiritual influences, inspirations in their thoughts.., in their actions and in their lives, unseen, hidden and parading as their own mirror images that lived within them.., and they fed this dark force their lives, their thoughts and their own fallen nature… Demonic principalities, dominions, powers of the air, and the spirits that influenced territories were at work in the hearts of fallen mankind breeding iniquity, breeding disobedience, breeding rebelliousness, breeding hatred towards each other beyond reasons that one could perceive, perhaps men unconsciously absorbed demonic hatred and presumed it to be their own. Where is the flesh in all this, where is a man’s individuality in all of this..? Why can’t they see God in all of this..?