Thoughts on metaphysics and life
Opposites work together to bring stability
And reliability,
In each others hands.
Without opposites
Life remains
And doesn’t change.
For without opposites,
There’s no reference point,
And no platform,
To create ourselves anew,
And correlate.
Without change
There’s no expansion
And no creation
Only sameness.
The answer is to accept
The inevitable correlation,
To create ourselves anew
From the father’s hand.
And let others only reaffirm
Who we are,
Through cooperation
And opposites.
When you look within,
There’s a destiny and plan.
Of uphill, detour
All to the master plan.
For every journey there’s scavenged land,
Of delays, mountains and the victorious hand.
A journey through the mist and sand.
In a broken world and a perfect world,
A new world of different facets.
A world of greed and generous deeds.
A journey of steep hills,
Of fate and nights of agony,
Of triumph, falls, and breakthroughs.
It’s all a choice
As we smile and reminisce,
The journey of age.
Racism is a funny word,
Isn’t it?
We don’t understand it, yet make fun of it.
We don’t understand the impact of our words,
We shout out with nothing
But laughter in our voice.
We got comedy shows
And crowds that haul,
At nothing but skin on our bones.
Yet we make fun,
And mistreat,
And ridicule,
Yet we don’t consider,
We’re all humans
Simply looking for peace.
In a world where we create war,
And tragedies
Through nothing but skin on our bones.
In a world where we belittle,
For nothing but ancestry and lore.
Yet the wise ones will hear,
And consider.
The fools will reject,
And not consider the mess,
That they create,
Through words and beating,
Inferiority and bets.
We don’t consider,
The lives in this tangled web.
The profound impact,
It has,
With families, and friends.
Let’s take this word seriously,
And not laugh like the rest.
Racism isn’t a joke,
We’re dealing with people
With feelings,
Who simply want acceptance.
Poetry is a voice,
A seemingly once troubled mind
Who found peace
In the midst of chaos,
Wanting to share his gift to the world.
Once fascinated by his thoughts,
He could not stop them,
Until he put them on paper
And declared what he knew.
Poetry is an emotion
Deep within ourselves
Trying to find rest
Through words and wisdom
Combined for entertainment.
Let’s not forget,
The core of poetry,
With making something sound so beautiful,
But empty.
For beautiful words doesn’t change the world,
But poetry does,
With a meaningful, and lasting word.
We live our lives,
Depending on others,
To make us happy,
Because deep down,
We feel scared and frail,
And need approval,
From other souls.
We search for approval,
Through everyone but we,
Because the moment
Someone values what,
We cannot conceive,
We want more,
To escape the longing,
Inside our soul.
The longing becomes unbearable,
Each time we need approval,
We seek outside ourselves,
To bring only, what we can.
We don’t get to the source,
Which is our soul,
If we simply listen,
The answer is within,
The essential calling,
Of our soul.
Through trial and error,
We tough the storm.
The wind blows against our soul,
In this illusionary world.
We don’t understand life,
As we squeeze tight
To be right.
The ideas, that once worked,
Are now expired,
In this illusionary world.
Through trial and error,
We make our stance,
Declare what we know.
The wind blows beneath our feet,
And shakes us deep.
We declare our wants,
More comes against us.
As we make our stance,
And are now sturdy,
In this illusionary world.
Through trial and error,
The wind doesn’t shake us.
As we learn through leaping forward,
Through the laws that govern us all.
The wind remains beneath our feet,
As we make our stance,
In this illusionary world.
Through trial and error,
We stand up straight.
Firm, unwavering, ready to play.
As we acknowledge our ways,
In this created reality,
Where we declare out loud,
And write the script.
Patience.
As it remains and escapes,
Through the process of trial and error,
Where wisdom lies.
An underestimating emotion,
We cannot stand.
Though uneasy at first,
Inner peace lies.
Patience.
Being steadfast and firm,
Though contradictions spies,
In a world of its own,
Of wisdom and lies.
Patience.
Though uneasy and flat,
Indecisive and black,
Contemplating time and elation,
Like a fiery trial.
Patience.
Though treacherous at first,
If we simply pull through,
Wisdom lies.
We start on the journey,
Fired up with faith,
Telling ourselves all types of things,
To stay in the game.
Declaring out loud,
We’ll never turn back,
We’re victors and not quitters,
Among the pact.
Then adversities come,
Knocking at the door,
Demanding to give in,
And forget what we know.
Everything can be a mystery,
And a puzzle,
In a deep world,
Of right or wrong.
We grapple with peace,
In a world of love and hate,
Our perspective is damaged,
As we march along in rage.
Let’s lose the self sabotaging lens,
Receive the divine,
And remember our core.
It’s a journey,
Of trial and error,
As we follow our soul.
Intuition and choices,
Delays and detours,
All leading back
To God.
As we contemplate and reflect,
We conclude,
There’s no right or wrong,
Simply experiences, remembering,
And intuition,
To guide us back home.
Wisdom has a mind of its own,
Sneaks up in time as we seek our soul.
When black paint is smeared against the wall,
We try to make sense of it all.
The gift of wisdom lies,
A world of coincidence in the sky.
There is always light in the midst of a cry,
As we make sense of the heartbreaking trial.
Constant reminders to stay in the game,
In a world of recurring thoughtful change.
No accidents only serenity,
And confirmation of the journey.
Seeking wisdom before the lies,
Is the only answer to win the trial.