Tag Archives: divine

The shift

source: medium.com

We interrupt our usual semi-disorganized artistic-poetic transmission in order to briefly appreciate mankind’s efforts so far:

We existed

We populated

Then, to address the problem of overcrowding, we killed

The population shrank

Then we pushed another government agenda to encourage population.

 

We started religion

Religion led to horrors

Then we went on anti-religion campaign to eliminate religion

When we became bored, and horrors still happened

We invented ‘cooler’ ways of trying to find some meaning and answers

We just ran short of calling them religion.

 

We knew deity

We called him wicked, selfish and proud

Then we went on anti-god rampage to stamp the name out of the planet

Man then took on the name of god and idols

Man is wicked, selfish and proud

Now we just may need another point of reference outside of ourselves.

 

We made laws

Laws became constrictive, made things ‘black and white’

We eliminated the concept because we adored the sixty shades of greys of (im)morality

Our inner lawlessness turned all the greys into darkness

Now we scatter everywhere seeking some order.

 

We knew emotions

Feelings made us ‘weak and illogical’

We made of ourselves androids

The perfect hellish paradise every post-apocalyptic sci-fi movie depicts

Cold reason gave us the building and construct

But devoid of the beauty and meaning

We then dared to ‘crave’ a ‘higher sense of purpose’

Short of calling ourselves MERELY HUMAN AFTER ALL!

 

 

These observations have we the learned ones –scribes and Pharisees –made. We then went for a consultation with the Wise One. He merely smiled at us smugly, logged on as an admin to www.bible.com on the Deep Net for those who dabble into truth and mysteries, and entered the query: “matthew9v16to17” which yielded: “No one puts a piece of new cloth onto an old garment; for that which is put in to fill it up takes from the garment, and the tear is made worse. Nor do men put new wine into old wineskins; else the wineskins burst, and the wine runs out, and the wineskins perish. But they put new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved together.”

We actually developed an acute headache from the irritation. Is he kidding us? We should, what, scatter the whole structure and start building from the scratch? We all know this sounds very useful in principle. But, how do we, where do we even begin to go from? What do we do in the meantime? Why shouldn’t we just run things on the side by patching? Management-by-crisis. But how do we then make that clean switch to the new? Do we just abandon the planet, take a recess like those lazy monks to the wilderness so we can start at the primordium of life, meaning and sanity? What will happen to the world in the meantime?

We grabbed the so-called Wise One by the chin, and just out of pure irritation, smacked him up in the head, spat on him, and thoroughly trashed his laptop.

Then we went back to our city. We patted ourselves on the back. “We sure showed him, didn’t we?” “Who’s really wise now?”

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Life and The Writer (sequel to Death and The Writer)

The Writer

“Of the few unpleasant species like myself
Even fewer love a happy ending.
But again there are few who won’t care about rules of dark writings
Any more than they’d care about a broken toothpick!”
These thoughts run through the mind of the writer,
As he heads back from the shrink’s cave.
His hair is well combed and like shiny metal.
His eyes glow with eerie warmth and calmness.
An enchanted smile adorns his lips and cleanly shoven chin.
One gently swaying arm holds a baby bird.
There was something beautifully divine about the bird
Even the air smelt divine, almost spiritual
The other arm with shaky fingers holds a white-inked pen.

The victim

The full picture of emptiness
Sitting between calmness and uncertainty,
His throat bears the aftertaste of good food,
Which though sits uneasily in his tommy
In view of his maltreatment and enslavement,
The hole (where the padlock was) remains –
An unforgettable lesson on his lips
As he speaks every day.
His wrists bear marks from the cuffs.
His broken legs are yet unhealed.
His mind is unsure of what to expect
From the writer upon return.

The conversation

Writer(W): Hello friend! How have you fared?
Victim(V): Friend? Hehehehe.
W: As you could guess, I was only being sarcastic calling you friend. Not a chance!
V: As well! Anyway, I have resigned myself to this fate. I know how dying feels. I am well used to it by now. This is your fifth return from your shrink, and I have not fared any better. I have felt my body die, and horror as I felt it come alive again back to your chains. I have felt you drain my hope as you would treat me kindly before you go see your shrink, only to deal worse with me on returning. I have felt my soul die. The corruption of these chains have drained my hope, my light, and what sense of sanity I had left. What more? Oh! You will release me now -the new monster you have created -knowing that I am not the same again? I can’t successfully live a normal life -my sense of humanity, morality and dignity twisted by your darkness.
W: Hahahahaha!!!! Halt your speech there! See who is talking like a philosopher now.
I am wrapping all this up now

Conclusion

And as the victim watches
With the uneasy calmness of one used to pain and suffering,
The writer takes the pen
And in a decisive move
Sticks it in the delicate heart of the heavenly dove.
Frank red blood gushes out.
As the blood flowed,
Something unnatural was happening –
Something damningly darker than any could have imagined,
Or something worthy of engaging the writer’s darkness.
The victim saw the writer’s countenance change.
The final deed has been done!
The writer’s insanity forever satisfied,
He then writes a new story in red.
The victim was set free
From the chains of darkness
By the shedding of another’s blood.
Something snapped in the writer’s dark mind
With his bold move on the dove’s life.
The victim’s story changed
And the writer’s madness was satisfied.
The victim was still in shock
As he was let out of hell.
He looked forward with hope
Into the life ahead of him,
Hoping and praying
He wouldn’t be a monster unleashed –
A likeness of the demon he just left behind in hell.
(Who was still a bit surprised
Because it wasn’t quite how he had planned the happy ending.)

At least, he wasn’t totally dead like the writer.
He could still HOPE and PRAY like a normal human
Who believed in the power of the unseen.