Kaleidoscope.
As you journey you'll reach a slump,
everything that was indispensable,
will turn into a pack of disposables.
You'll feel like it's been exhausted,
and it's time to dispose of it, and
hopefully, just hopefully, recycle it.
The things we love or attract;
are by nature boundless in our lives,
we have no hand in their destinations,
yet they follow a designated course,
and for some odd preset reason,
we receive and entertain their company.
Some times I ask God why I love poetry,
like why did I have to love this art-
of little or no financial security?
Or then again, why do I love music?
one of the abominations of my religion,
and or the depiction of "elite struggle"...
It takes an artist to portray misery's depth,
all from the hard work and sleepless nights,
to no pay and disarray from disbelievers,
who are of your own and those unknown,
to then struggling with fame and change,
for as you toiled, you then became distant.
Then my little business, oh my business,
a random idea that trickled into my mind,
bit by bit over years like a tap it dripped-
then it filled my head with an "opportunity"
an idea to oppose, oppress and overwhelm,
yet truthfully a vague blessing in disguise...
Which when we implement; we are praised,
when we endure through; we are patient,
when we work but returns aren't returning;
we are battered, squandered, and compared-
to the rest that have also "tried and tested,"
But succeeded and achieved their bounty.
Ayeh,
what control do we have over the things we achieve?
Where do we start off to say and boast,
that it was all entirely our own doing-
that we ended up where we find ourselves,
in the families, schools, and relationships,
or even the struggles and emotions-
that delve deep and coerce our inner being?
That we choose those whom we love,
or for some odd reason end up in the same-
society, bar, field, church, or restaurant,
wherever it might be just to fall in love-
with this stranger of a different culture,
where do we start from; honestly, where?
It's such things that anger and depress me,
that make me wonder the "unthinkable"
like what kind of devious God do we serve?
Didn't He foresee...
That Lucifer was going to turn into a rebel?
That that same angel was going stress Eve?
I mean after being burned from the land-
of beautiful angels that we humans use-
as references for the epitome of beauty,
He was bound to want something close...
Couldn't He just create a better pronoun from "Himself"
Like seriously,
didn't "He"know I was going to be disturbed by this,
didn't "He" honestly know I was going to get-
distressed and depressed then pen down things I didn't expect?
The worst part is the probable yes to all these questions,
that could lead me to be burned from my society...
Ayeh, the last one
Why?!
Why would "He" give us different religions that do give us morals but limit living experience, why?
Yet they separate us, then make us banish those we don't associate with into the inferno called hell.
Okay, I understand things need to be disposed of but why would one create a thing to do something- bad and then punish it for that very reason as if it asked to be me made with an after life option basing on how it acts.... ?
Some would say these are uneducated and misinformed thoughts, I don't blame them
but what governs us is way beyond our understanding and comprehension,
and it's understanding is all I seek...
For I have the freewill to do something that was pre-ordained...
That's complicated!
Way beyond those who we defy can explain to me.
Yet truthfully I am tired of suffering the disease of mediocrity,
all I want to do is pen down helpful thoughts like Socrates;
although, the poverty of ambition and persistence is ailing me,
but the worst disease one can suffer is the plague of ungratefulness,
that knocked on my door and led me here within your sphere.
Now at the end of the day I am healed from therapeutic writing,
so I am going to go back home and to God I will pray and say praise;
for getting me through the day and giving me this purpose to you.
I quote;
"This being human is a guest house,
Every morning a new arrival,
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor,
Welcome and entertain them all,
Be grateful for whoever comes
Because each has been sent as a guide..."
As you journey you'll reach a slump,
everything that was indispensable,
will turn into a pack of disposables.
You'll feel like it's been exhausted,
and it's time to dispose of it, and
hopefully, just hopefully, recycle it.
The things we love or attract;
are by nature boundless in our lives,
we have no hand in their destinations,
yet they follow a designated course,
and for some odd preset reason,
we receive and entertain their company.
Some times I ask God why I love poetry,
like why did I have to love this art-
of little or no financial security?
Or then again, why do I love music?
one of the abominations of my religion,
and or the depiction of "elite struggle"...
It takes an artist to portray misery's depth,
all from the hard work and sleepless nights,
to no pay and disarray from disbelievers,
who are of your own and those unknown,
to then struggling with fame and change,
for as you toiled, you then became distant.
Then my little business, oh my business,
a random idea that trickled into my mind,
bit by bit over years like a tap it dripped-
then it filled my head with an "opportunity"
an idea to oppose, oppress and overwhelm,
yet truthfully a vague blessing in disguise...
Which when we implement; we are praised,
when we endure through; we are patient,
when we work but returns aren't returning;
we are battered, squandered, and compared-
to the rest that have also "tried and tested,"
But succeeded and achieved their bounty.
Ayeh,
what control do we have over the things we achieve?
Where do we start off to say and boast,
that it was all entirely our own doing-
that we ended up where we find ourselves,
in the families, schools, and relationships,
or even the struggles and emotions-
that delve deep and coerce our inner being?
That we choose those whom we love,
or for some odd reason end up in the same-
society, bar, field, church, or restaurant,
wherever it might be just to fall in love-
with this stranger of a different culture,
where do we start from; honestly, where?
It's such things that anger and depress me,
that make me wonder the "unthinkable"
like what kind of devious God do we serve?
Didn't He foresee...
That Lucifer was going to turn into a rebel?
That that same angel was going stress Eve?
I mean after being burned from the land-
of beautiful angels that we humans use-
as references for the epitome of beauty,
He was bound to want something close...
Couldn't He just create a better pronoun from "Himself"
Like seriously,
didn't "He"know I was going to be disturbed by this,
didn't "He" honestly know I was going to get-
distressed and depressed then pen down things I didn't expect?
The worst part is the probable yes to all these questions,
that could lead me to be burned from my society...
Ayeh, the last one
Why?!
Why would "He" give us different religions that do give us morals but limit living experience, why?
Yet they separate us, then make us banish those we don't associate with into the inferno called hell.
Okay, I understand things need to be disposed of but why would one create a thing to do something- bad and then punish it for that very reason as if it asked to be me made with an after life option basing on how it acts.... ?
Some would say these are uneducated and misinformed thoughts, I don't blame them
but what governs us is way beyond our understanding and comprehension,
and it's understanding is all I seek...
For I have the freewill to do something that was pre-ordained...
That's complicated!
Way beyond those who we defy can explain to me.
Yet truthfully I am tired of suffering the disease of mediocrity,
all I want to do is pen down helpful thoughts like Socrates;
although, the poverty of ambition and persistence is ailing me,
but the worst disease one can suffer is the plague of ungratefulness,
that knocked on my door and led me here within your sphere.
Now at the end of the day I am healed from therapeutic writing,
so I am going to go back home and to God I will pray and say praise;
for getting me through the day and giving me this purpose to you.
I quote;
"This being human is a guest house,
Every morning a new arrival,
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor,
Welcome and entertain them all,
Be grateful for whoever comes
Because each has been sent as a guide..."
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