It’s something that had been haunting me for awhile now, but try as I might, I couldn’t let go.
I lay my tired body down,
head on my pillow,
pull up the sheets,
when they appear before me,
a melee, making themselves heard.
Her tears flowed
Diluting the blood
Unseen all day
She comes to me
A nocturnal visitor
Snuggling in under the quilt
Engaging me in pillow talk
As I lie awaiting sleep
Sifts through every waking moment
A sieve, ever observant Continue reading →
Who are they who defend God?
Did He ask them to?
If He is All Powerful, why does He need defending? I was told He would take care of us, not that we would need to look after Him.
If He is the Creator, why do they destroy?
Who heard Him cry out for revenge? Why didn’t the neighbours hear Him? Why don’t you and I? If He can speak to them directly and call them to war, why did He send us avatars and apostles and prophets and angels of peace?
Is He happier now that murders in His name have been committed? Was He happy when they slaughtered kids earlier? Or do they hear from a different God in a language the rest of us don’t understand?
If every deed done by man is done in His name, why does man do misdeeds?
What is this mind for, if the hand is to kill? Why did He give us reasoning and the power of intellect if He wanted them to be subsumed by base metal and sharp edges of a sword?
Who lies? Did He? Surely not. The holy books? I think not, but if they did why are they holy?
Or is it they who lie?
Questions. Questions. Questions aplenty.
Can the defenders of faith defend themselves from the questions I ask?
1) Peace is when things are whole.
Otherwise, it always in pieces.
2) If connecting with the consciousness is absolute heaven,
connecting with the conscience can sometimes be arrant hell.
Singeing, primal, momentary
Uplifting, intense, fulfilling
The memory still vivid
The blood still coursing
The breath still heavy
The heart still throbbing
The face still flush
Awash with intoxication
The afterglow of the encounter
The adrenaline of the escapade
The antidote to the ordinary
And across the schism, the aftermath
Oscillating, lingering, unforgiving
Between the conscience and the carnal
The detritus of an adulterated vow