Tag Archives: spirituality

THE MAGI-CIANS 2: SHOWDOWN

Trick or treat

Dance to the beat

Coz we got you neat

Oh you sly Herod got the heat

And now totally unsettled on your seat

(source: unknown)

_____________________________________________

Sat on your throne feeling neat

Any wagging tongues your guards beat

You called the shots and dictated the beat

You get angry and the innocent feel the heat

You give the orders and it all becomes a bloody treat

 

Well now feel my beat

I’m gonna give it to you neat

I turn on my words like the heat

From my kitchen comes a nuclear treat

Coz I’m a righteous gangster from heaven’s seat

 

All we got in life are a treat

Handed to us all in our seat

We can’t control life’s every beat

Not to speak of our every heart’s beat

Who survives when life brings on the white heat

 

Whether we work under the heat

Or play games each lounging on his seat

Fate is a cunning illness none can fully treat

Though we alter some events at life’s complex treat

There’s much in this party that doesn’t dance to all our beat

 

So whilst on your sadistic seat

Feeling like a god so fly and neat

The magicians heard a different beat

And did not stagger at the sight of your heat

But rocked side to side at the Chef-God’s treat

 

And now Herod feel the heat under your seat

As you just got beat at your own grand treat

Coz the Chef-God’s heat cooked you neat

Giving you a treat to his version of heat

Time to feel my beat crash your seat

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Matthew 2:1-13 contains a summary of how Herod’s attempt at killing God’s son was totally foiled.

 

Narrator: “Hollup magi, I’m coming. Herod’s goose is cooked! Let’s go see those gods of the 21st century feeling like they own the universe and all of existence. We need to remind them they didn’t conceive, incubate and give birth to themselves. Now that they all grown up and making a few bucks and academic degrees, they be barking up and down the streets with doggy philosophies and belching with goaty pride!”

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THE MAGI-CIANS

source: dnaindia.com

 

Narrator:

After the saga of the angels and virgins

We continue this tale of humble origins

At the ancient land of adventure and djinns

 

They grew skilled in the art

Of setting the merely supernatural apart

And studying the truly spiritual by heart

 

Magicians:

We’ve analyzed psychological effects and tricks

Criticized those engaged in religious theatrics

But we don’t do these just for kicks

 

So on seeing the strange star

Mad curiosity drove them travelling far

And they didn’t even use a car

 

When we landed in the metropolis

We said when accosted by the metro-police

We seek the righteous soul please

 

The police burst into wild guttural laughter

Calling their speaker a philosophical faffer

Like a page out of its chapter

 

Called the bunch amusing strangers

Like drunks who made wagers

They’d win a shootout with rangers

 

They then gave them an intro

To the 21st century in toto

Showing them they were so retro

 

We’ve come from a time

Where good flows in the clime

And love don’t cost a dime

 

Weapons protect us from nature

Not destroy each other’s future

And we got peace words can’t capture

 

We all thrive as one

Under the Illuminated One

Nothing he does can be undone

 

Magicians generally keep a low profile

And so these were silent all the while

Without saying anything right or vile

 

They couldn’t have come in vain

So they asked again and again

Though hearts bled in pain

 

We’ve been gathering knowledge in stages

Whilst half-truths and pride keep others in cages

Holding on to views and traditions for ages

 

Science and philosophy have their place

To finding truth they help in that race

But limited when evil stares you in the face

 

We are experimenters and astute observers

Not narrow-minded like so many others

Who can’t see science and faith share many borders

 

So we took to flight

At the signal of the true light

Who illuminates all in sight

 

Even our lord the Illuminated One

Can never hold a candle to this one

All realms will bow to this righteous one

 

(source: wakingtimes.com) What worlds really are all around us?

He will bridge the spiritual and physical

Unravel the dark web of the mystical

And he is not even mythical

 

So let all those with seeing eyes

Break away from all other ties

To reach for where reality lies

 

We will join you wherever you are in time and space in this search!


 

Matthew chapter 2 verse 1: NOW WHEN Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men [astrologers] from the east came to Jerusalem, asking, 2. Where is He Who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the east at its rising and have come to worship Him. 9. When they had listened to the king, they went their way, and behold, the star which had been seen in the east in its rising went before them until it came and stood over the place where the young Child was. 10. When they saw the star, they were thrilled with ecstatic joy. 11. And on going into the house, they saw the Child with Mary His mother, and they fell down and worshiped Him.

 

PERSONAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I wonder what really “unseen” means. We can’t exactly see atoms. Does that make them spiritual? What is the nature of non-physical intelligent beings? Can we readily walk the bridge between the physical and the ‘spiritual’ worlds?

A nail to the head

image

(Source online, unknown)

I now stand tall proud loser
Gracefully holding my head
Empty of any sensibility
Hence easy to bear
My heart beating passionately easily
Because of the hole in my chest
Letting out the heavy sea of blood
The heart normally has to cope with

So, after my head empties out,
What next?

I boldly display my monkey-tail
Put up as I scamper away in frightful flight
From all the stark raving difficulties
Faithfully stalking my daily life like psychopaths

Then banging my head on the floor
In manly resignation to the insanities chasing me
To end up contacting ifeelshadows.com
So the kind Doc. can help nurse my mental bruises

I throw hands up in the air waving like at a musical rave
Poetically exclaiming the hopelessness of it all
Before even my penned hands get tired and chained
For this whole homicidal act on the dignified person of poetry

And I lie on my damp bed
Stinking un-bathed soul
Drenched with rain of sorrows
So cold in this life I can’t get dry

Never mind I am shivering epileptically
And I have to cover myself
Keeping me further damp, sticky and stinky
Yet You(God) don’t stop

But in all this call me sad –a sad, sad man
Because I see even no relief or sense in suicide
I am no judge in this frame of mind
But least, I was sane enough to analyse my hopelessness

What do You want from me
Will You be happy when I let it all go
Throw out my life
And hang myself on a cross?
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